Sunday started at midnight, and unfortunately, our day started two and a half hours later with another storm system moving in, full of thunder, lightning, and rain. It cleared out, but with anticipation of the first day's ride, and more rumbling in the distance, a lot of people didn't sleep from then on. Linda and I were part of that majority. The threat was sounding pretty real around 5, so we decided to get up and see if we could pack the tent somewhat drier than soaking wet. We just about made it! It started to rain as the last of it was getting organized. We both crawled into the car and waited for the action to die down. I hate starting out in the rain. :-)

Lots of cyclists were on the roll, and the shower was brief, so I got going before 7. Linda headed back to my folks in Carpio, and I was on my own. There's something almost frightening about throwing all my worldly possessions of the time on a truck, wondering what stories would play out before I would see them again. And it was strange throwing Dad's stuff on with him back in Carpio, planning on starting the ride after a majority of us would already be at Beulah.

Just past Coleharbor an older fellow (older than me) caught up to me and slowed down to chat a bit. The miles heading west rolled off nicely despite the wind. Conversation seems to do that. I almost cringe when other cyclists ask me what I do in the Cities (pop. 2,000,000) because there's such a diversity of occupations on the ride that usually I oversimplify with "computer programmer consultant." BUT, he started asking some pretty specific computer industry questions I'm not usually asked, and we started swapping work stories. He's also a consultant in the Cities. :-)

It started to rain a bit after I crossed the dam, but decreased to annoying sprinkles before I got soaked. It wouldn't have mattered much as I was quite damp from sweat. We rode through Pick City (203), with a few locals watching the parade on main street. A bit later we passed a church which advertised a Sunday service at 10. It was about 9:59 with an empty lot, at which time a car came screaming down the highway, pulled into the lot, stopped, and took off again. Maybe they'd figured out the mystery: we'd crossed into Mountain Time zone so it was only 8:59. :-)

The only rest stop of significance was the Miller farm rest stop about half way. The family had gone to great efforts to have tables set up under the shade of the trees, only to have to clean out a portion of the barn and have the food in there because of the weather. There was some good food--fruits, cheese and crackers, bars, etc., with an asking price of a donation to the MS Society.

While this is a dragline picture I found from Australia, it's still representative of the size of the lignite coal mining equipment. The dragline clears the overburden off the coal vein. The monster with a 320-foot boom dwarfs the white pickup truck in front of the machine.

Four miles out of Beulah (3363) my luck ran out, and I got caught in rain. It was a serious enough rain that there was no stopping and waiting it out. I got to the city park on the other side of town just as the couple of dozen cyclists already there were getting kicked out from under a shelter because it was reserved. We moved to "our" shelter and waited for someone to figure out what the town was going to do with us.

One nice aspect of the confinement was being able to more quickly find out who was back from other years! Art from Alexander was there with his recumbent, Shawn from Minneapolis and his friend from Shoreview, Doyle from Fargo, and many familiar faces.

Eventually the decision was made to move us to the Civic Center, allowing those that wanted to sleep inside that opportunity, plus a dry place to serve us the evening meal. I wasn't sure if there were going to be any signs posted to let Dad know what was going on, but I wasn't going to wait around to find out!

I managed to get the tent up between rain showers, and found a nice, dry place for my bike--in the hog stalls for the county fair. :-) It wasn't much after I'd showered and set up camp that Mom and Dad showed up, after a bit of a search for the gang. The original plan of Dad biking from Garrison got scrapped because of the weather. I didn't blame him, although I did have to give him a little grief. Mom took off and then Dad and I went through the county museum. There were some interesting areas, and some "just plain junk" areas, as it typical of many museums imho.

After a roast beef and spaghetti supper (at which Dad won a couple of prizes during the North Dakota trivia contest), we hiked up to Dairy Queen for one last binge before calling it a day. I tried drying out my shoes and gloves when we got back, with limited success. As it turned out, it was a wasted effort.