Thursday at a glance
Miles	55.4
Mph	16.1
Max Speed	24.8
Route	Rolla to Rugby via Wolford.
Wind	5-10 mph from the west-northwest.
Temperature	lower 60s to upper 70s
Elapsed Time	3:26:02
Clock Time	7:00 - 11:15

Dad's ticker was still working just fine when we got up. Great news! Plus, there was an official sunrise. More good news! I threw the sunscreen back in the pannier just in case, and we took off again at 7. It looked like most had already hit the road, or at least packed up and gone off to find breakfast.

We were heading to Rugby today, a south and west and south route of about 55 miles. Wind wasn't an issue when we left and we cruised. The passers-by had no stoker comments today, mainly because we were once again doing the majority of the passing. It was good to have Dad along again.

The first rest stop was sixteen miles down the road at Mylo, which we stopped at, and the second was just seven miles farther down the road, off the highway a little way on a gravel road. It was a heritage museum put together by Dale and Martha Hawk several years ago. It looked like there was a shuttle bus available, but the attraction wasn't enough of a draw for us to stop. Later reports said that even four hours wouldn't have been enough to see it all.

After a few more miles heading south, we turned west, and into a slight headwind. It cut our speed down considerably--back to being almost mere mortals. We observed some birds in flight "skimming" a field for grain, reminscent of movies of raptors skimming water and plucking a fish out. It was quite the buffet for them! And shortly after, we had our opportunity at the Wolford rest stop.

Wolford isn't a big town, but they provided perhaps the most extensive menu of the week ranging from caramel rolls (warmed up even!) to sloppy joes to ice cream to homemade bars. I was thinking it was quite a shame that they wouldn't be providing their services at the park in Rugby that afternoon!

From Wolford, we "headed up into the hills." We'd been riding on level terrain since Rolla, but just west of Wolford we hit some rolling hills. Toward the top of the very first was a sunflower field in its full glory in the first day of sunshine. We stopped so I could take a few pictures, and it was difficult to get the legs moving again afterward. They weren't as fresh as when we started out the week, and taking off after a break was a little more painful.

Somewhere on this stretch we caught up to Sarah. She had been pulling out of Wolford just as we came in. There'd been some confusion and Allan had waited for her at the heritage museum, but she bypassed it. We relayed this on to him a bit later when he pulled in just as we were about ready to leave. Why are these little details worth mentioning? I'm not sure. Maybe because of the sense of community that develops over the week. Everyone doesn't know everyone by the end of the week, but many connections are made and reinforced throughout the week. This is in stark contrast to another ride I participate in with 3300 riders. Anyway, after a couple of minutes of chatting ("How many miles do you have left?" "Thirteen!"), we left Sarah behind for the last time. She was ending her week at home in Rugby so she could pack up and head back to college. Allan was going to finish out the week, especially since his vehicle was still back at Fort Stevenson state park.

At mile 45 our trek through the rolling hills and prairie pot holes came to an end as we hit level terrain and headed south. There was a non-descript rest stop at that intersection which we briefly stopped at to top off water bottles. It was the warmest day we'd had so far (but still quite comfortable).

There were two visual highlights on the final stretch into Rugby. One was a stack of five large bales that had been painted with a bicycle, welcoming we CANDISC riders. We stopped for that and I took several pictures (again grateful for the "shoot as many as you want" feature of a digital camera).

The second was the burnt out shell of a semi in a field. We didn't stop to get a picture of it, but I later overheard the story: A week earlier, they'd been combining the field and took a break for lunch at the grain truck. The farmer's daughter had brought the food out to the field, and after they'd finished, everyone left the area. They were combining the other end of the field when the truck went up in flames. Their best guess was that the catalytic converter from the daughter's vehicle had started the fire, and no one had been around to see and stop it.

We pulled into the Rugby park at 11:15 and staked out our territory. Our "backyard" was up against a little path through the park, which became a major walkway. We spent part of the day with our chairs along the path, sort of like sitting on the front porch in days of old and greeting the folks passing by.

Eight years earlier, there'd been a shuttle running to and from the highschool showers. This year, there was a dollar charge to get to the highschool, or two bucks round trip. That didn't sit well with the spirit of CANDISC, so we took our showers in the Great North Dakota Water Shed. We weren't the only ones, and the shuttle bus sat there for quite some time. Eventually word went out that "the shuttle is now free!"

We headed out on foot for the downtown after showering to find some food. We ended up at a grocery store and bringing back among other things, a pint of moose tracks ice cream for each of us. And we consumed that on our "back porch," with several envious bikers walking by us from the showers.

Today was the warmest day of the week. We'd seen a thermometer on our stroll downtown saying 87. Our shade wasn't the greatest, so we headed for the library down the street until supper. I was able to gain access to an internet-connected computer and sent a note to a few people about the week. What does one say in the span of a few minutes? "You had to be there!"

Supper was in the park, followed by music in the park, a Wednesday evening summer community event. But they had moved it to Thursday so CANDISC could get in on it. It was nice to see all the locals show up, not that we were tired of seeing mostly CANDISC people all week, but many times it seems like most of the communities hide behind doors while we're in town.

A final note for the day: Rugby's claim to fame is that it is the geographical center of North America, and there is a monument along US2 indicating such. The monument has been moved as needed, but remains in Rugby. But in reality, when the center was calculated years ago, it was really a mile or two south of the small town of Balta, several miles to the south of Rugby. We would actually be riding within a couple of miles of the center on our way to Butte tomorrow. How was the center determined? A fellow meticulously cut out North America from a globe and balanced it on a pin. The balance point was just south of Balta!