Gig Harbor Washington to Bar Harbor Maine 2001

The kids that ran the pool in Hope left it open for us so we could use the restroom. Friendly, trusting, helpful people, these North Dakotans are. The pool's kinda on the honor system anyway, since it's surrounded by an easily jumped fence.

The fireworks and pickups with magnified mufflers kept going until long after we wanted to be asleep. Gridley had been waiting for the sun to set since before dinner. I thought we were going to have trouble with some kids in pickups that parked right next to the park and woke me up making some sort of remarks about bikers. Turned out they were just visiting or dropping off people who lived across the street, and talking through their beer.

I woke up early, eager to go. I haven't been this anxious to get on the road since Washington Pass. We had all eaten breakfast and looked ready when I rolled away. I haven't seen them since. I rode down the middle of main street in three towns with no competition from any cars, and no opportunity to get any food. I had an apple in addition to my stash of bagels and peanut butter, hershey nuggets and the dregs of the trail mix I've hauled 2000 miles. I really wanted some orange juice

The ride started out beautifully. The sky was clear, temperature cool, humidity low, North wind at my back. When I turned east, the wind was less helpful, but not a direct headwind. The only bad part was the road surface. There were tarred cracks every 10 feet or less that rattled BOB and my nerves, even with my shocks. I'm sure it was worse for the regular bikes.

I saw some of the "group of 10" leaving the last town before Fargo and they confirmed that the gas station/convenience store was open. The last of the riders was pulling out and an old man came up talking recumbents. Turns out the "group of 10" is an Adventure Cycling Tour and the old man was their leader. I guess he was riding a 'bent, but I didn't see it.

Even though I was just a few miles from Fargo, I wolfed a sub sandwich and some lemonade. Then I called home. I hadn't been able to reach Lisa for nearly a week. The last time I talked to Amanda, things weren't going so well and I started feeling guilty and homesick. Today I added the killer component - I'm bored. I'm to the point that I just want to get this over with. I know there is some beautiful scenery yet to see, but I'm not sure I'll be in a frame of mind to appreciate it. When I think of riding for the next month vs. spending a month at home, possibly the last month free of school and work until real retirement, going home sounds really good. Fargo is the first town with an airport since Spokane and it has a Rans dealer that would be able to pack and ship my bike. I spent the whole ride today plotting and planning my escape.

As I was writing that last paragraph, Ed Zakowicz came up (and Gridley showed up soon after). He and his son, Steve, are riding recumbents from Cape Cod to Bellingham. (They also have a cool computer, a pocketmail, which they're using to update their website, http://members.home.net/zakowicz . They can send email from even a pay phone using a built-in acoustic coupler. New technology!) They left June 9th and have traveled about 1900 miles. We left June 7th and have traveled about 1900 miles. Guess this really is the halfway point. They're concerned that they're travelling too fast and will have to kill time waiting for their wife/mom to meet them. 25 days to the coast? That doesn't sound too bad.

Ed & Steve Zakowicz.

They had seriously altered the Adventure Cycling routes and we had an extended mapping session that clarified some of Gridley's questions. They were fairly excited about many places they'd been. I don't think they took more than three days to cross any state. I grudgingly started looking forward to the rest of the trip. I guess I'll see how it goes. Just keep me away from airports.

We all wanted mexican food but, being the 4th and near the highway, settled on Pizza Hut. We shared two enormous deep dish pizzas, then went to A&W for root beer floats. How could I leave this behind.

We're camped in Fargo's city park, Lindenwood on Roger Maris Boulevard, right on the Red River of the North with Minnesota across the water, taunting us, "Here's another state, come and get me." The fireworks display is a couple of miles up the bike path. Guess it's time to go.

We went. The fireworks were across the river in Moorhead. We saw a pedestrian bridge hanging about 20 feet up in the air. I guess the river's too high to use it so they just raise it out of the way. We had to ride about 3 miles to find another bridge, then ride a couple miles back down the other side. It was beginning to get dark and we decided that we'd rather go back and sit on the levy in Fargo than fight traffic after dark.

Oooh, aaah.

We watched the few fireworks that rose above the treeline, but it wasn't very exciting. We started back down the bikepath before they were finished. I had a headlight, but the moon was so bright I turned it off. That may have been the best riding of the whole trip, cruising the meandering path through the woods along the river in the dark.

Ed and Steve just came back from Moorhead They enjoyed themselves but had some close calls in traffic. I nabbed their firewood - they're leaving at 5am to head to Hope. I let them know that I thought they'd been sent to encourage me to go on. They're sure I'm doing the right thing.

Garcia and Kathryn just got back from the fireworks in one piece. Garcia enjoyed the crowds and is glad to be back in civilization. Yeah, I guess.