(There was no internet access in Billings at Montana State due to the July 4th holiday weekend. Much of the campus was shuttered, and many downtown businesses were closed. I have a time limit of 40 minutes on this terminal at the Hardin library and will do the best I can to catch up. Perhaps Sheridan will have a library that I can use tomorrow).
In Avon, woke up in the middle of the night to hear a chorus of coyotes. It was as thought they were trying to sing a round. Then all was quiet once again. Went right back to sleep, which was nice:I needed the rest. At dawn, the Avon Cafe staff pulled through and dropped off a couple pans of oversized cinnamon rolls for us to enjoy for breakfast along with our basics. What a nice embellishment!
Started off the morning by riding alongside Janet for a bit. This woman knows her birds. She can tell you that what you just heard is from a red-winged blackbird, and if it was its "song" or its "call". We talked about the marshbirds as well as bluebird houses that are sometimes attached to fence posts. Janet also told me that at home, on Whidbey Island, when she finds a dead bird on the road, if it is not too damaged, she will bag it and send it to a friend who in turn sends bird specimens to the Smithsonian for study!
I moved on a bit from my bird lesson and focused on the climb ahead. The route would take us up and over MacDonald Pass - reaching an elevation of over 6300' and positioning us near the Continental Divide. The 4 mile long climb was not too bad (merely a PORTION of Orondo Grade for those of you who have ridden RedSpoke). The view at the top was great but the sun very bright and glaring. It was a challenge to take a photo of the summit sign. If the air had not been so thin, perhaps I would have had the wisdom to simply go to the shoulder of the opposite lane and take the photo of the sign from there. Maybe next time, I'll be as smart as a chicken and simply...cross the road.
Cruised down the other side. Nice descent into Helena. The air was hazy though, and the town very spread out. I found our checkpoint, but didn't see any good spots for a 2nd breakfast. So I motored on through. A few miles beyond there were notices for East Helena. I pulled off the road to investigate. A very scrappy town, East Helena. I slowly rode down Main Street. The only soul visible was a tough looking woman with more art on her body than I have on my walls at home. I asked her if she could recommend a place for breakfast. She gestured to the left and said "the food in here is pretty good". "Any other spots around?" "Nope, not really". Well, Smith's Place it was. The eggs and toast were fine, and coffee thin, and waitress - who must have been all of 18 - called everyone "hon". I had forgotten to take off my sunglasses. But Smith's was the kind of place where several of the customers had 'em on. So I just let it be.
The meal sustained me through the balance of the route, which took us to Townsend, another scrappy town. We set up camp at the local school. It was blazing hot all afternoon and we sought shade as best we could. Found out there was a library attached to the school and that we could use their computers! (No time limit either). I managed to post a couple of entries - and enjoyed doing so in air-conditioned comfort. Returning to my tent outside was not a big draw. Daniel made dinner for us that night. How he could stand cooking over a couple of woks in that heat is a mystery to me. We settled in for what we thought would be a quiet evening. But the weather had other plans. A couple of colliding thunderstorms decided to join forces and created a dynamic show. At 10:30, Daniel shouted out that we needed to evacuate our tents as the lightening strikes were dangerously close. We huddled together under the overhang at the school, watching our little nylon homes shudder in the wind. Between lightening and an occasional check with a flashlight, we saw the tents sway to the left, then to the right. It was as though they were following an aerobic instructor. And all the while the rain poured down.
A couple of the tents completely collapsed and one almost laid completely down - bowing submissively to the storm. The clouds moved on, the rain relaxed to a drizzle and we returned to our respective spots. I was so relieved that my little REI half-dome stayed completely staked, and everything inside was dry. (Thank you Perry, Kathie, and Claire for being such good instructors on tent set-up. I had guyed out the sides prior to the storm's approach and feel like that made a big difference).
Several Riders had to move to inside the school for the balance of the night. They dragged in their wet belongings - which miraculously dried by morning. All of us hope that that our Townsend electric storm is the most dramatic evening we have on this journey.
In Avon, woke up in the middle of the night to hear a chorus of coyotes. It was as thought they were trying to sing a round. Then all was quiet once again. Went right back to sleep, which was nice:I needed the rest. At dawn, the Avon Cafe staff pulled through and dropped off a couple pans of oversized cinnamon rolls for us to enjoy for breakfast along with our basics. What a nice embellishment!
Started off the morning by riding alongside Janet for a bit. This woman knows her birds. She can tell you that what you just heard is from a red-winged blackbird, and if it was its "song" or its "call". We talked about the marshbirds as well as bluebird houses that are sometimes attached to fence posts. Janet also told me that at home, on Whidbey Island, when she finds a dead bird on the road, if it is not too damaged, she will bag it and send it to a friend who in turn sends bird specimens to the Smithsonian for study!
I moved on a bit from my bird lesson and focused on the climb ahead. The route would take us up and over MacDonald Pass - reaching an elevation of over 6300' and positioning us near the Continental Divide. The 4 mile long climb was not too bad (merely a PORTION of Orondo Grade for those of you who have ridden RedSpoke). The view at the top was great but the sun very bright and glaring. It was a challenge to take a photo of the summit sign. If the air had not been so thin, perhaps I would have had the wisdom to simply go to the shoulder of the opposite lane and take the photo of the sign from there. Maybe next time, I'll be as smart as a chicken and simply...cross the road.
Cruised down the other side. Nice descent into Helena. The air was hazy though, and the town very spread out. I found our checkpoint, but didn't see any good spots for a 2nd breakfast. So I motored on through. A few miles beyond there were notices for East Helena. I pulled off the road to investigate. A very scrappy town, East Helena. I slowly rode down Main Street. The only soul visible was a tough looking woman with more art on her body than I have on my walls at home. I asked her if she could recommend a place for breakfast. She gestured to the left and said "the food in here is pretty good". "Any other spots around?" "Nope, not really". Well, Smith's Place it was. The eggs and toast were fine, and coffee thin, and waitress - who must have been all of 18 - called everyone "hon". I had forgotten to take off my sunglasses. But Smith's was the kind of place where several of the customers had 'em on. So I just let it be.
The meal sustained me through the balance of the route, which took us to Townsend, another scrappy town. We set up camp at the local school. It was blazing hot all afternoon and we sought shade as best we could. Found out there was a library attached to the school and that we could use their computers! (No time limit either). I managed to post a couple of entries - and enjoyed doing so in air-conditioned comfort. Returning to my tent outside was not a big draw. Daniel made dinner for us that night. How he could stand cooking over a couple of woks in that heat is a mystery to me. We settled in for what we thought would be a quiet evening. But the weather had other plans. A couple of colliding thunderstorms decided to join forces and created a dynamic show. At 10:30, Daniel shouted out that we needed to evacuate our tents as the lightening strikes were dangerously close. We huddled together under the overhang at the school, watching our little nylon homes shudder in the wind. Between lightening and an occasional check with a flashlight, we saw the tents sway to the left, then to the right. It was as though they were following an aerobic instructor. And all the while the rain poured down.
A couple of the tents completely collapsed and one almost laid completely down - bowing submissively to the storm. The clouds moved on, the rain relaxed to a drizzle and we returned to our respective spots. I was so relieved that my little REI half-dome stayed completely staked, and everything inside was dry. (Thank you Perry, Kathie, and Claire for being such good instructors on tent set-up. I had guyed out the sides prior to the storm's approach and feel like that made a big difference).
Several Riders had to move to inside the school for the balance of the night. They dragged in their wet belongings - which miraculously dried by morning. All of us hope that that our Townsend electric storm is the most dramatic evening we have on this journey.
1 comment:
Hey Liz, So nice to read all about your adventures...I'm really enjoying reading your blog and hope that you will consider writing a book sometime in your life!! You are GOOD!! I am so envious of all the yummy homemade pies and cinnamon rolls you are eating! You'll have to keep track of the best of the best as you are really eating your way across America! We miss you here at the SSC. Stay safe and upright!! Beth
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