Wild Ride

“Layin on the highway

I saw my mind

In tiny little pieces thrown from side to side

My heart was shattered along with my pride

Guess you can’t keep ‘em on the wild ride”

- Dwight Yoakam

I don’t love the title of this one, but the lyrics were pretty spot on this afternoon. If I hadn’t burned Hitch a Ride the other day, that would have fit here too. But who knew? We weren’t laying on the highway so much as we were pathetically sitting on our saddlebags with our thumbs out for a half an hour. And it was going so well too, until it wasn’t. We got out early today and had 42 miles done by 10:30 so we stopped in the little city of Big Timber and treated ourselves to 2nd breakfast as it was too early for lunch. We only had 35 miles to go to Livingston and would easily be done by 3:00. Ahhh, nothing like a bit of smugness and overconfidence. We got back on the road by 11:30, and no sooner had we started up again than we turned head on into a 20-25mph headwind. It turns out our morning ride was in what amounted to a wide canyon heading generally NW. In Big Timber, the Yellowstone River and the road we were on turn about 90 degrees and start heading SW. The canyon turns into a wide open valley with zero shade and no place to escape.

While I have documented my travails in the wind ad nauseum for 3 months now, this was Claire’s first real experience with it. We struggled our way for about 14 miles, going literally at half the speed we had been going in the morning and working twice as hard. At that point, our road ended and we had to get up on the interstate. There also happened to be an underpass so we took cover in the shade for a bit. Claire had been drinking so much water to try and stay hydrated that her stomach and side were hurting. We agreed we’d had enough. After about 15 minutes we decided to try and hitchhike to Livingston. Claire asked if it ever worked. I told her 40 years ago, it never failed for Stefan and me. Well, let’s just say I was a bit rusty. We sat there, baking in the 95 degree heat, looking as pathetic as we could for about 30 minutes. We obviously had the pathetic part down because most cars would actually move to the other lane, like you do when you’re avoiding a wreck. Finally, back down the on ramp from where we came, a guy and his dad hauling a trailer full of trees took pity on us and decided our bikes would fit in the back with the plants. He was barely right, but it all worked out and they gave us a ride 20 miles into Livingston. We still managed nearly 60 miles in the saddle today so it wasn’t a short day by any means, just a bit shorter than we had hoped.

Note I don’t think we’ve seen a single sheep in Montana. Goats, horses and cows but no sheep.

Prairie Dogs (aka Fat Dirt Squirrels) have much larger populations in their towns than their human neighbors

Main Street, Livingston, Montana. It obviously just rained somewhere, but for once not on me.

Before hitching

After. It was only 2 miles but you bet your ass we’re going to count it. The wind certainly hadn’t stopped. Check out the “pace”.