Chapter #3

Central Time Zone to Brainerd Departure

I left the Moe's at the park entrance at 4:15 PM, which promptly became 5:15 in a hundred yards - this as I crossed the Little Missouri, a time-zone marker. Winds started to pick-up and I turned-off Hwy. #200 to see the cowboy town of Killdeer, it was the only spot on the map for a long time.. I gassed, got ice at a bar across the street from the gas station and got a recommendation for a place to eat, "THE place", I was assured. 'The Buckhorn'. It was a nice restaurant, upscale, great steak, decent cocktail etc. etc. Well, paid my bill ($19.65) and stepped outside. It was now 7:10 PM and the skies said RAIN! I tried to find a motel that I was directed to by a large hanging sign on main street - twice! No luck! Went out to the City Limit going out of town the wrong way (for Hwy. #200) and found a decent looking working-man's motel, the Mountain View. Little girl who registered me (12-13 years) wouldn't take any money, but would assign me a room. Good facility. I unpacked, called Pat, took a shower. Pat told me she'd received our first payment check on a family loan and what was she to do with it? I learned that rotting benches at church has been all cut-up and disposed of, courtesy of Bob Sparks. I wondered when was it gonna start raining? I went outside and felt a drop of rain, then looked-over the motorcycle. I was mildly concerned with the oil thrown onto the rear-rim from the final drive assembly - looked 'yucky', but it was a synthetic gear oil to start with. I'd been putting my hand on the assembly from time to time, to insure it wasn't 'dry' and the bearings weren't 'burning-up', but I decided to check the oil level. I got out my 14mm wrench, removed the fill-hole plug and nothing ran-out. Well, really it shouldn't. I next went'n got a pipe cleaner I could use as a 'dip-stick'. I dipped. Nothing! I could get nothing on the tip of the pipe cleaner. I was immediately concerned. I recognized that tomorrow was going to be the 4th of July and I was out in "40th and Plowed Field" in a North Dakota backwater (some would say that that appellation applied to the whole state mind you...). What, or who, was going to be open?

I later met the owner and paid-up my room costs. I learned that he ran a farm of a zillion plus acres and became a motel owner by fate. He assured me that the Centrex Station out by Hwy. #200 would be open on the 4th of July and that they would have gear oil and if not, come back and see him, he was sure he had some on the farm. I felt much better. I returned to my room and went back to work on my diary - the original work to this one. I'd made some observations while riding this date:

Understand, when one is alone, out on the plains, knocking-off mile and mile of highway, you need to be ever alert and the source of your own entertainment. I noted in my diary that next year I need to know all the words to at least one song as I sing a lot for my own amusement.

And why, on a BMW motorcycle, where the footpegs are not opposite each other, does one kill more bugs with the left boot, than the right? The right toe is closer to the ground, more 'boot' is thus 'frontally exposed', but it's the left boot that keeps nailing the bugs. Why? Perhaps my fellow long-haul cyclists can add to this research in the months/years ahead and provide a plausible explanation. I studied my boots there in the room to confirm the observation.

07/04/02 Awake! It's the 4th of July! Where is/was the rain? Skies are threatening - the motorcycle evidences some moisture but if it rained, it didn't rain much. However, it was trying to at the very moment. However, I was off to find some gear oil. Found the station near my Hwy. #200 left turn. It was typical of so many, lots of soda/coffee dispensers and a whole shelf of automotive supplies, anti-freeze, oils, windshield cleaner, etc. But no gear...ah ha! What's this? A tube of outboard motor gear lubricant, in a tube no less! There wasn't anything else, this would have to do, said it was 85-95 weight. I took it! Some lubricant is better'n no lubricant, right? Well, I cut the tip, pulled the plug and squeezed. Sniff! This was nothing more than hypoid oil (exactly what I needed - and in a convenient dispenser too!). I was a very happy camper! I'd come to the conclusion that the synthetic gear oil used at home in preparation for this trip became too thin at heat'n speed and most of it escaped through the vent.

The spit was increasing, break-out the rain gear and ride. It was now10:00 AM.

Remembering my Jordan MT bar mate's suggestion I turned-off Hwy. 200 at Halliday ND. I had studied the map and saw the road he wanted me to take, a light gray line on the map with a four digit number, something like '1806'. If I missed the turn I would dead-end into this huge lake formed by the damming of the Missouri River at Garrison. Halliday is just a wide-spot in the road so as I drove I looked for a human being I could contact and saw a group of men in the street. I rode around the block and pulled-up among them. Friendly bunch - probably well into the beer, a can of which each held. No youngsters either, they ranged form 40-70 years of age.

Yes I learned, the road was paved, and yes, it was well marked too!

This detour didn't take me out of my way as the desired road reconnected to Hwy. #200 at Pick City, just before the highway crosses the top of the dam at Garrison. The route held some hills, swoops'n dips, but no traffic! Talk about being alone! I paused for gas and a stretch at a service station in Pick City. The threat of ran had passed, it was now hot'n getting hotter. I shed the rain gear, bought some coffee and sat on the bench in front with a bunch'o locals - getting the low-down on local weather, fishing and who was pulling-up with a new boat. It was the 4th of July and the adjoining lake runs about half the width of North Dakota, Lake Sakawea.

I crossed the dam just after Noon. It was 12:55 when I pulled-up at a road house/cafe just outside McClusky, it's the 4th of July and one can't pass too many 'open' shops on such a date. Place was vacant except for a local and his wife who were engaged in conversation with the two elderly matrons running the cafe.

I was invited to try a fleischkeuchla ( I copied the spelling), with french fries. It came with a hot borscht soup. What's a 'fleischkeuchla' you may ask. It's a 'hot-pocket' affair filled with heavily seasoned ground beef that's deep-fried. Very good too! I work on some postcards and am asked if I would like a desert. Well, I read the wall board which proclaimed all pies were baked on the premises and one caught my eye, Sour Cream Apple. I like apple, I like sour cream, but together? Well I ordered and before I was done it was heated and served ala mode. I tasted it and then asked the woman if she was married? Damn that was good goo! I gassed-up in McClusky and was on the road again at 1:52PM. 89 octane was only $1.45/gallon.

Shortly I was given the option of staying on Hwy. #200 or taking the alternate, #200A. I stuck with the original and at 3:13 took a stretch on the outskirts of Carrington, it's windy! ( 40-50 mph - decent wind!). I took another break at 4:25 at Cooperstown. It was here, over coffee, that I was cautioned regarding closed roads ahead, all flood damaged. I was urged to create my own detour and since Hwy. 200 'dropped' south, it was an acceptable idea. I stumbled to the town of Hope, then on to Clifford. Very flat, almost featureless terrain generally. I found Hwy. #200A again, then #200 itself. I asked directions once and then from a recently relocated couple who were of little or no help - but they earnestly tried.

I rolled to a stop in the middle of the bridge over the Red River, a fast flowing, high volume river that divides Minnesota from North Dakota. The Red River flows north into Manitoba. The bridge is new, very wide, and the highway is only two-lanes with little traffic. Wind has now diminished and the sky is breaking-up. Two years previous I'd stopped on a similar bridge over the same river but about 150 miles closer to Canada and watched a huge catfish surface - no such luck this time. The Red River gets it's name from its dark, reddish-brown stream load. I took some pics.

Red River, MN on left, ND on right

Now, I was aware prior to leaving home that parts of Minnesota had been ravaged by flooding - Brainerd wasn't mentioned and I didn't really care about anywhere else. If I'd been told Ada MN was heavily hit, it wouldn't have ment a thing to me as I didn't know where Ada was in the 'grand scheme'. Guess what? Ada is on Hwy. #200. The downtown streets were covered, curb to curb, in a brown 'goo' about 3/4" deep. Stuff was slicker'n snoot! If I HAD been riding a clean motorcycle circumstances changed quickly.

At 7:20 PM I pulled into Manhomen MN. The terrain was getting more interesting. The fare at the Red Apple was a buffet, (nobody wants to pay holiday wages on the 4th - so they let most of the staff go!). At 8:15 PM I pull-out thinking I'll stake-out a motel for the night. Manhomen has this huge Indian Casino, 700+ rooms - I took one look and rolled on the throttle - no thanks! It was a 'zoo-like' structure with parking facilites to match. I'll find a place down the road I told myself.

I'm now rolling into the woods and I see deer, then more deer...slow down, losing light, where's a motel? The deer here are a decided rust-red color, unlike any I'd seen elsewhere. What's this? An accident? A brand new Chrysler sedan blocked my whole lane. I stopped. Two very young teenagers, a boy'n girl who might have been 15-16 years of age had tried to make a U-turn on a road with no shoulder and the high grass concealed a drop-off. The front wheel drive car was stuck with the body resting on the lip of the road surface. Others stopped too! One passing motorist, a girl, went off to get her father and in the meantime a van-load of local Indians pulled-up. The driver had a chain and gave me the 'hook end'. Ever look underneath a unibody constructed vehicle? What'n where do you hook onto? I found a place at the shock-mount and away we went. The 'child-driver' had to be instructed on what to do - but the car was pulled back onto the roadway and I was back on the road. Two grateful kids zoomed on out of sight. Where'o where was a motel?

I stumbled onto Itasca State Park. Given the deer and the failing light, it'll have to do I told myself. Lake Itasca is the headwater for the mighty Mississippi and I had been here before, but not in the park proper. Camping is another 4 miles past the entrance booth (closed at the moment). I get assigned a campsite. Telephone, I need to phone Pat! Well, that's back up at the Lodge, four miles back up the road. Off I go. Pat tells me that she has read my e-mail (I'd requested same), and that there's a note from my Chiropractor friend in Pennsylvania, a party I'm to rendezvous with at the rally. Seems he hasn't got an original birth certificate and won't be attending. Yipes! If he doesn't show that'll cost me a lost bet ($1.). Direct Pat to write him back, not to worry, damn the torpedoes etc. etc. Be there!

Get back to camp so as to set-up the tent etc. I immediately find myself chumming for mosquitoes. Ah thanks Patsy, she'd sent me off with a big spray bottle of Cutter's mosquito repellent. Good stuff but do I have enough! Well, it's night time, 4th of July but no fireworks..I can hear others in the park. I turn-out my electric light and the heavens come alive, a 'good show' in its own right but the noises I hear are all the high-pitched 'zing-zing' of hovering mosquitoes.

Self-portrait at camp in Itasca State park. Orange cap against cooler is top of the bug repellant. My electric light (plugged into the motorcycle is clipped to the cooler, with its in-line on/off switch seen just above the deluxe green cocktail 'glass' (plastic of course),

I bunk down for the night - that broken snake-flap zipper on my tent isn't helping to repel mosquitoes and I resign myself to buy a new tent (this one owes me nothing having used it for all of ten years now). I spend the night providing 'lunch' of sorts.

07/05/02 HUH? I'm startled-awake when a creature I can't identify (dark and no glasses on..) scampers passed my head inside the tent. Probably only a chipmunk but that's no way to start the day. But I AM awake. Break camp and roll-out at 7:40 AM in quest of gas as I'd been forced onto reserve coming into the park the night previous. I took a couple of pictures of Lake Itasca and a monument explaining Minnesota's geology.

Geology of Minnestoa Lake Itasca - source of Mississippi River

I get gas at Alice Lake, needed it, took-on 4.9 gallons of 91 octane super at only $1.50 a gallon. 8:49 AM I find myself in Walker and head straight for the drug store as I'd lost my comb. Really needed it too, imagine 'camping head' coupled with 'helmet head' and you've got a 'picture'. I call Marve'n Carol Bohn down in Brainerd, Marve's my riding companion for the Rally. Am I clear to arrive today? Come-on down I'm told. Did a package arrive addressed to me? Yes! (Thanks Roy!)

I put-putted due south, having waved good-bye to Hwy. #200, my almost constant companion since Missoula, it'd been a great route. I ride down to Brainerd - something's not right here! You bet, it's called a new by-pass. I find my way eventually, Marve'n Carol live about 8 miles south of town and roll in around 11:15 AM. Drained the oil on the motorcycle, checked my Killdeer MT 'outboard motor lubricant' and it was perfect. I spent the rest of day helping Marve fix an automatic garage door opener, showered, started my wash and went to town with Marve to buy oil and booze and scope-out an auto/hot-rod show. We were early, but went back later - worth doing.

The lovely Mrs. Bohn (Carol) Marve's smiling - door opener fixed!

Marve thought this looked good on him '39 Ford? He's admiring a MZB

Pat had a '49 Champion with this body when I met her..1959.

Later in the evening I got to meet Rod and Laura Pederson, he being one of Carol's relatives. They run a John Deere sales business in two locations over in North Dakota and were down shopping for a camper unit. Laura is a woman's basketball coach. The girls go to bed and the rest of us stay up swapping lies til 0140 hrs. Drink? Us? Nah! (I lie...)

Rod just drank water!

07/06.02 Went shopping in Baxter, a city that is much newer and abuts Brainerd. Took in a flea market north of their first. Did camper-shopping with the Pedersons' in the process. Hot! No, HOT! Finished-off the shopping experience at Christmas Tree Point, a very up-scale Pier #1-type operation. Back to Bohn's for cake'n coffee (really just to worship the air-conditioning and ceiling fan...). More company arrived just as the Pedersons departed. I used the time to fold and pack clothes and fix the snake-fly zipper on my tent. Our plan calls for an early departure 7/7.

07/07/02 I was able to answer the early 'bell' and found Marve up and working against the potato bugs in his garden, followed by instructions to Carol relative medication application for the horses. I surprised myself as I was up late the night before, talking with Carol long after Marve turned-in. I learned that she's ready to come to California.