Northern Tier Day #36 Enderlin, ND to Gackle, ND

Northern Tier Day #36

June 25, 2019

Enderlin, ND to Gackle, ND 76 Miles

Ride Time 8:18

Tour Total 2863 Miles

details at: https://cyclemeter.com/058ffe3224dd3702/Cycle-20190625-0623-02431

If I had known it was going to rain last night, I would have set up my tent under the park pavilion on the concrete slab. It began to rain shortly after I went to bed, which was pretty early. Nothing inside my tent got wet, and I slept great. But the soaking wet tent weighed about 20 pounds this morning. I squeezed all the water out, rolled it up and strapped it to the top of my rear load. I would eventually have to dry it out before it got stinky.

All night long, the freight trains came rolling in and out of town, horns blasting. I had weird dreams, none of which I can remember. I woke up shortly after 5am. The store opened at 5am, and I had a long stretch today with no services. I needed to get breakfast before I left town.

I got all my devices charged last night with my extension cord. My phone, my battery pack, my AirPods, and headlamp were all at 100% this morning. I found a tick crawling up my leg this morning in the tent. I hope there aren’t any more on my body. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky when I set off. It’s supposed to be hot today. A V-formation of geese flew low up above me.

Last night after the Friendly Bar I went over to the Traxside cafe, which was closed. I visited the Tesoro gas station/convenience store and bought two slices of pepperoni pizza. Afterwards I went next door to Trio bar. It was empty, but they had a decent beer selection and a kitchen. I ordered a cheeseburger with onion rings and a Sam Adams Summer Ale. I talked to Charlotte and got caught up on news and social media.

Enderlin got its name because it was on a railroad line. At the time of its founding it was at the end of the line. Enderlin. Now it’s got two tracks coming through + 3 spurs. It’s not enderlin anymore.

It was 6:30am when I arrived at the Tesoro, and there were freshly baked cinnamon buns. I washed mine down with a Starbucks Frappuccino and an orange juice. The clerk thanked me for coming in. It’s not as if I had a choice. There were no other stores for miles. She said that she liked talking to all the cyclists, and was hip to our clandestine ways. Oddly, she hadn’t heard there was a cyclist hostel in Gackle.

The air was chilly so, in addition to my cycling shorts and short-sleeve jersey, I was wearing my sweater, my leg-warmers, and my rain jacket as a shell. Navigation was going to be a no-brainer. I was headed west on North Dakota State Highway 46 for the entire day.

I would be going due west. There would be no stair-stepping, and no decisions. I’d just be playing my usual games on the shoulder. The rumble strips were full of water from last night’s rain. I had 30 inches between the rumble strips and a very steep slant down to the gravel. I was cautious about playing games with today’s slant. There was semi-truck, pick-up truck, and car traffic on the road. The wind was out of the north west so I had a headwind.

I was told last night that all the trees around here had been planted. That made sense because they were all in perfectly straight lines. There was a line of trees a hundred feet to my right to protect the highway from snow driftng in the winter.

My frontside was cold because of the headwind, but my backside was hot from the sun. I tried lifting up underlying layers inside my jacket. It was too early to remove my rain jacket shell. I was thankful that the wind wasn’t directly out of the west. This wasn’t as bad as it could be. I tucked down low on my handlebars and rode as low on the shoulder near the grass as possible.

I passed by Standing Rock Hill, an ancient Native American burial ground. The hill looked steep and it was a gravel road to get there, so I declined the visit. It was the largest hill around. Back in the day, pioneers used it as a landmark.

I passed a downhill warning sign and then sped down into the Sheyenne River Valley. The river was a thick muddy brown and then I climbed back up out of the valley on the other side. I was averaging 9-1/2 miles an hour with the headwind. I was using my middle front chain ring all day long. There was more friction on the shoulder than on the main road. I was riding at an angle, and the surface was more abrasive.

At the junction of Highway 1, I was surprised to find the Cityview Fuel Convenience Store Cafe. It hadn’t been on any of my maps. I stopped and ordered two egg and bacon on biscuit sandwiches and grabbed two Starbucks Frappuccinos. It was a good breakfast stop, and I was very fortunate. I recharged my energy, and saved 3 miles by not having to later go off route into Litchville or Marion.

Today while battling the headwind, I was climbing from 1000 feet to 1900 feet in elevation. The sky remained clear and blue. The sun was strong, but the air was cool and the headwind necessitated my rain jacket shell. It was a tricky balance managing my hot sweaty core underneath.

I listen to WFMU archives or the live stream while I pedal. I was bummed that Matt Warwick was on vacation today, and I listened to Samantha’s fill-in show. I often can’t differentiate whether the bird chirps or scraping noises are from the station bed music or from my immediate surroundings. Any WFMU listener would understand what I was talking about and appreciate the station for that very reason.

I was riding low on the shoulder down near the blowing grass. I heard some growling to my rear right and I assumed it was coming from the radio on my EarPods. However it was visceral and immediate, so I turned around and there was a large brown dog that had jumped up from the grass and was growling at me. He didn’t chase me, but he sure startled me.

A windsock on top of an roadside elevator confirmed what I already knew. I was dealing with a strong headwind. Because of my fantastic breakfast. I decided not to go into Marion. That would be my last opportunity for food until my destination, Gackle, 35 miles away.

Down the road, I would have a river and train track crossing, a Federal Highway crossing, a County Highway crossing and two County line crossings. There was nothing else on my map. Just a straight line on State Highway 46.

At a certain point the rumble strip moved to the middle of the shoulder and I couldn’t cycle there anymore. I was now out in the motorized traffic lane. There were now small puffy clouds in the blue sky. After about a mile I got my shoulder back.

I saw a squirrel hopping through the grass which I found odd, being that he was so far away from the trees. He’d better hope a hawk doesn’t come flying through and make him it’s prey. I see a lot of birds while I'm riding. The most common type is the red tip black bird. There were no telephone lines or barbwire fences, and nothing for them to sit on. I knew they were all hiding in the grass, because I could hear them chirping.

I let Melissa in the cartography department at Adventure Cycling know about the service stop at State Highway 1. It made a huge difference on this stretch. The terrain leveled out and I could see about 5 miles ahead down the road. There were a few farms on the horizon, and a few trees. It was mostly grass, Highway 46, and me. Against the wind. I’m riding against the wind.

I came to the junction of County Highway 63. There was nothing there, but it was the most exciting thing that had happened in the past hour. I then rode down into a shallow valley and crossed a train track and the James River. I was pedaling in my middle front chain ring. I stopped to remove my rain jacket shell and put sunscreen on my face.

Crossing highway 281 was a big deal! There was nothing there, but I had been anticipating the crossing since I’d begun seeing signs for it yesterday. My map showed no more junctions for the next 21 miles.

By mid-afternoon the clouds had gotten larger and puffier. It was now partly cloudy. There was grass and telephone lines to both side of the road, and a large high-voltage line running catty-corner across the highway.

The wind picked up. I was using my middle front chain ring, and the fourth from the smallest cog on the cassette. I was averaging 7.2 miles an hour and giving it everything I had. Eastbound cyclists Carol and Kirt were enjoying a tailwind today riding from Fargo to Tamarack Resort.

I pulled over and peeled off my leg-warmers. I was now riding in my cycling shorts, a short-sleeve jersey, and my sweater. The air was finally beginning to warm up, but I still had the wind in my face. I met eastbound cyclist Jack who was only 17 and riding a modified Northern Tier. He was from Chapel Hill, NC. A television news story about his ride can be seen here: https://www.wral.com/chapel-hill-teen-using-summer-cross-country-bike-journey-for-unique-purpose/18473567/

Jack was being supported by his mom, driving a car, and they were staying at hotels. He told me there would be two Canadians at the hostel tonight in Grackle. He mentioned that an east-bounder was a couple days behind him and a west-bounder was a couple days ahead of me. Jack was enjoying his tailwind today and said that it made up for the ten days of headwinds he experienced out west. He reported that the winds today were 14 miles an hour.

Outside of Alfred I passed numerous ducks and ducklings swimming in a lake alongside the road. A red-tipped blackbird flew right above my head for half a mile. I could hear him chirping, but didn’t directly see him until later. Many different types of birds fly with me.

There were very few trees coming into Gackle. It was mostly grass in every direction. It looked like alfalfa grass, the kind that cattle prefer. The hills were slightly rolling, and not flat. The terrain was not nearly as voluptuous as Northeast Iowa.

I climbed up over a hill and in the distance could see a cell phone tower, and then finally the telltale sign of a water tower. Thank goodness! What a day. Old glory was waving toward me in somebody’s front yard, and I was greeted by a hillside featuring GACKLE spelled in painted car tires. Gackle has a population of 310.

At the Honey Hub Bike Hostel I met eastbound cyclists Andre and Colleen, who hailed from British Columbia and were doing a modified Northern Tier. They met one another years ago while cross-country cycling Canada. They had been coming from opposite directions and hooked up. They’ve been together ever since.