Go east, to go north to go west into the wind to go south, and that’s just the first seven miles to get us back on the Mickelson Trail.  By the time we had climbed a couple hills to get us back on track, we’d forgotten the 55° it was when we started at 6:30 this morning.  After close to 400 pictures yesterday of fields and steams, “we” tried to be more judicious with the camera.  As we passed more campers waiting for the big rally, we hoped/prayed we’d seen the last of the motorcycles.  Nothing against the riders, but their gathering of 1.5 million people next week in Sturgis, has wrecked havoc on our course and finding a place to stay.

For the first few hours, we paralleled the highway; traffic wasn’t too bad at this early hour, but it was still noticeable.  Seventeen miles and over two hours of climbing through the beautiful countryside, we finally reached our first climb to 5900 feet.  We caught a quick glimpse of the Crazy Horse Memorialthen took a turn away from the highway and enjoyed a quiet, shady six mile coast down to Custer.  A quick liquid refuel and we began another climb, only three miles (5320′) and much easier.  The constant stream from yesterday was replaced by amazing rock formations in the middle of incredibly green fields.

Pulled into the saloon at Pringle for our lunch break, only to find them closed on Mondays.  Thankfully, the owner was there and could offer us something cold (water) to drink.  As we rested, a cowboy with a hat brimmed as wide as his shoulders strolled in.  Discussing our route, he said, “That’s a far bit on a dirt road.”  Having finally left the dusty trail, we had been looking forward to some pavement; twenty miles of dirt road was not part of our plan.  A highway was our next option;the amazing rock formations continued.We rolled up the highwayand past a hill struggling to regain green after a fire.We reached an almost treeless plateau of the Custer National Park and Wind Cave State Park; a remarkable topography change from the last two days.
The three amigos were anxious to tell us of their victorious gunfight and the best saloon in the park. They were quite chatty, but the wind was picking up and with no trees to protect us, we needed to push on.  One last cattle guard crossing, a downhill into the wind and we finally reached our town at 1:30.  A quick stopfor food and a cold beer, then a tour of just a few of the many sandstone buildings in town.

  The day had gotten HOT, dry (15% humidity) and dusty, we were happy to duck into A.C.  It was only a couple hours later we heard the rumble of thunder.  An hour later, an incredible hail, wind and rain storm came in and raged at our doorstop.   We began to wonder if it would stop, so we could get dinner.  A brief break in the rain and lightening and we briskly walked past flash flooding and road closures to the closet place a half mile down the road.  An easier pace back to our hotel, revealed a beautiful, yet a bit tumultuous, sky.

Last night’s storm had washed the sky clean and the dust away; all that remained was cool temps and a breeze.  We pedaled uphill for a couple of miles past a beautiful ravine with pretty rapids and then over the Cheyenne River.  Past that, was a long, straight road.  A rest at the top of one of the rolling hills and a look back on the last of the Black Hills.  We rolled (mostly up) for miles, seeing a whole lot of very little.  Though the temperature were perfect for biking (think football season), we were hungover from the vista overload of the last few days.  In reality, we were both upset we were heading south and not east, taking advantage of the incredible WNW wind.  Twenty two miles down the road we came to an east intersecting road.  We stopped and looked in the direction we longed to go.  But there was nothing on that road to be found for over a hundred miles, except for a liquor store and one hotel that was booked.  So we plodded along with the wind at our shoulder, not a hindrance, but not a help.Look at the wind on the water reeds.

We reached a ridge at the Nebraska state line and took a quick break.  It didn’t look like much more to see from here, but with a slight bend in the road and an eight mile downhill, we flew with the wind.  It was not until a few miles from town we started to see signs of civilization and life.  Another late lunch in town and then up the hill to our hotel.  Once again we looked at all the options to head east and avoid another day of our southerly direction.  Thankfully, the puzzle was finally coming together.  Though too late to enjoy the 20-30 mph tailwind we would have had today, at least tomorrow we will begin again to head towards home.  A little dinnerafter our 57 mile day.

Beautiful cool morning facing directly into the sun, as we headed on our easterly course.  The fields seemed greener and there were interesting things to see along Historic Route 20; some verydifferent things, too…..can’t make this stuff up!

We rolled up 17 manageable (and beautiful) miles to the 4000 foot summit of Pine Ridge, that had filled our morning horizon.  There was no downhill to our ridge and most of the trees disappearedreplaced by lush farmland in the middle of harvest.  We passed small towns, big farms, prehistoric vehicles and an old railroad.  We had pumped out almost 35 miles by 11:00, when we reached our lunch stop.  The southeast breeze was picking up, when we waddled away from lunch, and the temperatures were still in the low 70’s, perfect.  From here, the route was slightly downhill and with the wind on our shoulder we sailed through the next few towns to reach our town for the night.  Made a quick stop at the store for some supplies, while Jerry garnered Nebraska wisdom from a local (family roots go back 130 years).  “Nebraska’s weather is great, but not for women and horses” and another classic, “The settlers came here with nothing and managed to hold on to all of it.”

Met another “rancher” (don’t call them farmer, ouch) at dinner, just as friendly.  He works over 1000 cattle on his ranch from sunrise to sundown, “…and it gets a bit tough and lonely in the winter when it’s 37° below Zero!”  

We solved the worlds problems over Chicken Fried Steak, then said our good nights and farewells.

Rolled out of the two block town past a Vietnam War relic and into the beautiful countryside.

Our rancher from last night, spoke of the “six mile hill”, quickly explaining after seeing the look on our faces, that the hill was in six miles, not that it was six miles long. We approached and climbed it (while avoiding the crop-duster) with relative ease along with the few miles of ups and downs that followed.  This was the beginning of the Sand Hills.  These fields of sand were softly painted and the clouds in the distance seemed airbrushed into our morning canvas.  Incredible to think that sand dunes can foster such lush grass and hold water, too.  An hour into the ride we came to a freshly paved road that offered tremendous relief form the speed bump filled shoulder we had encountered since entering Nebraska.A light cool morning breeze and flat smooth road, we were feeling good and started boasting about doing our long ride today, instead of tomorrow as scheduled.  All our giddiness was quickly squelched when we hit mile 40.  Our flat road started rolling and rollingand the un-forecasted northeast breeze that had plagued us all morning was gaining strength.  We still made it to Buffalo Bill Cody’s hometown, our planned stop for the night, shortly after noon, 55 miles done.  Slid into a booth at the local food trough, ordered a to die for grilled chicken sandwich with lettuce, tomato, mayo and cucumber with super hot fries!!  Lunch was devoured way before the thought of taking a photo ever occurred.  We checked our pulse (not our sanity) and the wind direction (changing to NW any minute) and decided to forge on.  The wind did keep us cool, but kept toying with us; coming from our side only to turn and hit us in the face.  But the scenery remained enjoyable and somewhat distracting as we rolled along waiting for the wind to change to our advantage.Pedaled past a couple towns, the Minnechaduza Creek and crossed the Central Time Zone sometime in the afternoon  The sky was crystal clear except for ever changing clouds in the south.

Two doors before our hotel, the “golden arches” beckoned us in for a delicious chocolate milk shake; hot and very low on energy, it was well worth the stop.  Since we lost an hour with crossing the time zone, by the time we were showered and had downed a few ice cold bottles of water, it was time to go to dinner.  Hard to find pasta in these cowboy towns, but we hit the jackpot this time; there were more tender strips of sirloin then pasta on this plate.  Perfect remedy for a 94 mile ride.

As a side note, we would like to thank all that have contributed so far, to the EOD Warrior Foundation.  Celebrating our first 1,000 miles, we contributed today, too.

The morning had already heated up, with our hour later start (after 8:00).  The northeast winds were now coming from the southeast; not a good day to be heading in that direction, especially with rolling hills.  Rolled down one hill to cross the Niobrara River, a big draw for canoeing and rafting.

Our second day of pretty pastures in the Sand Hills and still amazed at the immensity of the farms and ranches reaching for miles and miles.  Avoided a good size snake, but did stop for a photo of a huge turtle  and of course, horses.  At 11:00 we took a cafe break, because it was there.  An hour later, stopped for a chat, at the quaint cowboy town of Johnstown.  The day was heating up, so we were happy to arrive at our small quaint town and find a chocolate peanut butter milkshake by 2:00.

There was very little choice for dinner in this small town, but thankfully all three were right beside our hotel.  We opted for the warehouse looking building that bragged about their steaks.  We’d been disappointed so far, but tonight we scored big.  This “Omaha” steak was crazy good.  Better put more than 47 miles in, so we can enjoy our next one!

Deadwood, South Dakota to Ainsworth, Nebraska

361 Miles (one day off)

Interesting Sunrise!

What’s that sailor saying, “Red skies at Night, Sailors Delight……”; guess it is a good thing we are are bicycles!

Two blocks from our hotel, the weather weeny started whining, as the wind whipped around us, dropping the temperatures five degrees; Jerry patiently waited through the tantrum and then we headed on.  We had started early (7:00) as the temperatures were going to be in the 90’s, but for now it was a very cool 61° with a whipping southwest wind.  After a few rolling hills at the start, we were warmed up quickly.  The sky was magnificent, if you did not stop to think of the implications the storm that surrounded us, had.  With the cool temps we were pedaling hard to stay ahead of the storm (it had a good head start on us-note the pile of hail),taking pictures like crazy of the ever changing sky; as well as, trying to take advantage of the cool morning while it lasted. At one point the sun tried to peak through, soaring the temperatures to a balmy 64° and making the dark clouds even more dramatic. The storm that surrounded us made for a very interesting and beautiful morning in the sand hills.Shortly after ten, we started to get sprinkled on; not enough for windshield whippers, but a bit damp. By 11:00, we reached our last stop for food and decided on a rest; we had already pumped out 46 miles.  Before we had our early lunch on the table, the wind was whipping and it was pouring.  After our leisurely lunch, the rain showed no signs stopping, much less, slowing down.  With the storm, the internet was not coming in, to gauge the direction or duration of the storm.  Though everyone in the restaurant tried to be accommodating with their smart phones, nothing was working.  After an hour and a half of waiting, we threw our jackets on and headed out into the cold (61°) pouring rain; faces pressed against the glass and hands waving from our warm and secure stop.  The rain stopped shortly thereafter, but the southwest winds were strong and in our southerly direction, giving us a workout.  We pedaled hard to maintain 10 mph.  Just short of our stop, the sun was trying to make an appearance.

By the time we had our Duckies nestled away, it was 80°.  Thankfully, dinner was less than a block away; even with the cool day, after 67 miles we were tired.