half way there!

Today we had breakfast in camp and I tried to get on the road pretty early so that I might have a chance of getting in at a reasonable time. Unfortunately, every single rider passed me, except Sarah, and we rode in together. My knees were really hurting today. They always start out with a dull whimper. I try to tell them stories to distract them, but it never works. The whimper turns into a whine and eventually a full blown wail, complete with temper tantrum. I’m not sure if it’s the terrain we’ve covered lately or the relentless headwinds, but something has been really hard on my knees lately, and they’re not pleased one bit. I talked to some of the crew members about it in the evening, since the pain seems to be getting worse rather than better as hoped, and they took a look at me on the bike and said that it was probably my leg length discrepancy (2.5 cm) that was causing the knee pain. They’d had to set the saddle height halfway between the ideal length for either leg, so the set up ended up being non-ideal for either leg, and they said it probably manifested as knee pain. On the next rest day, we’re going to get some extra wedges to put on the outside of my shoe and insoles to put on the inside of my shoe to help even things out. Hopefully then my needs will halt their whining once and for all. In retrospect, perhaps tearing my knee cartilage to bits playing soccer growing up was not in my best interest. :o/

Excitingly, today was the halfway point of our ride, both in number of miles completed (1650) and number of days (24 of the ride’s 48). It both seems entirely too fast and entirely too slow – one part of me thinks “We’re half way already??” and the other part thinks “Surely we’ve crossed North America and most of South America by now!”. I also finished listening to the epically long Atlas Shrugged today, and I’m not sure which I should consider my greatest accomplishment – bicycling half way across America or finishing Atlas Shrugged.



The headwinds were really rough today. It’s a brutal thing that wind. When the rode curved, the wind seemed to shift with it so that it was hitting me squarely in the face all day long. It pummels you mercilessly drying your skin and your spirits. It’s like you’re waging a war against an invisible enemy and don’t particularly have any defences. At least with the hills, there's a goal, an end, and a reward. The goal is to get yourself up it, the end is when you do, and the reward is a descent. They're finite. There's no such goal, no end, and no reward to riding on flat prairie lands with the wind blasting you. It's infinite.

Kathleen said she got so exasperated and frustrated that at one point, when she was bicycling all alone, she started crying and yelled out to the empty plains of South Dakota “I’M NOT HAVING FUN ANYMORE!!!” And then she said she switched from tears to uncontrollable laughter as she came to the realization that screaming you’re not having fun anymore is more suitable for 5 year olds.

Over the last hour of the ride, it began to rain and continued to do so as I arrived to camp. This was my first time assembling my tent in the rain (you can imagine that perhaps I was not ready for this challenge), but with a bit of help from a few others, I managed to assemble it without too much trouble and without getting the inside drenched. Also, I learned how to work the adjustable strings on the rain fly that I’d apparently been doing all wrong. You have to stake them in such that you can adjust them during the night as needed if the wind is blowing the rain fly too much one way (or I think that was what they said).

Another thing I’d been struggling with with respect to the tent is how to put on pants (OK, trousers for you Brits who are cracking up ;o)) inside it. Generally, when one puts on pants, they’re standing up. But I can’t stand all the way up inside my tent. So I’d stand with my legs straight and then lean forward and try to wriggle into pants. But sometimes hopping is required to get into pants and when I was in this position and hopped, I hopped right into the side of the tent. I can’t imagine how odd that looked from the outside. However, today I had the (belated) idea to lay down and the wriggle into my pants. This was far more effective. I think this resolves the last mystery about the tent. Hopefully I’ll have it down pat now. :o)

After we’d arrived in camp, Dick asked me how my day had been. I answered “It was one of those days”. He laughed and said “That’s what you’ve been saying for the last three days”. I hope I get to stop saying this soon. :o/

We camped in a park in De Smet, South Dakota. De Smet is a cute town that claims to be the home of Laura Ingalls Wilder. They had a little museum devoted to her there, but I didn’t have time to go.

We had dinner at Ward’s Store in town, and it seemed like it was one of those general purpose stores that meets all sorts of needs (a “Walmart in training” as one of the riders dubbed it). It had a little coffee counter, served as a restaurant as well, and then the other half was a store featuring De Smet items for tourists, all sorts of candles and decorations, thread and sewing materials, clothing and all manner of other goods but all within this small space that’s the size of a normal restaurant. They served cheesey potatoes, chicken, salad, raw vegetables and dip, and an amazing cake for dessert.

Kathleen jumped in the photo of today's cue sheet...