Sylvan Lake Lodge - Edgemont, SD

Leaving my brother in Custer was tough but fortunately the ride on this day was easy. My posts will be quite a bit shorter for the next several days because to be honest the rides weren't all that fulfilling after leaving such a beautiful place.

The ride down to Custer was almost all downhill which was perfect since I was lacking motivation to get back in the saddle after 5 days off. We stopped at the post office to mail a couple postcards and so Jared could ship his book and his dad's Brooks saddle that I decided was definitely the most uncomfortable thing to sit on next to a plain seat post.

For the next 45 miles we rodes on the Michelson Trail. Up north it goes through old train tunnels but it was still a scenic ride for us as we enjoyed a quiet 45 miles of three percent grade while seeing coyotes, deer, and foxes along the way.

Eventually we hit the town of Edgemont which is a very small place. We settled on the only restaurant that was open and were pleasantly surprised to find that they had an affordable menu. We took the time to charge our phones and relax and had a nice older couple from Minnesota approach us. After discussing the trail and our ride as a whole they left and about five minutes later our waitress approached us to tell us that they had paid for our meal. Minnesota Nice really is a wonderful thing and we felt blessed.

After dinner we headed down the street to a small campground by the train tracks where we met three young cyclists who were going west to east. They had an interesting dynamic as there was one guy whose idea the trip was, his friend, and his friend's girlfriend. Combining that odd group dynamic with their conventional style of cooking all their own meals and logging long mileage days and I was not envious of them to say the least. Still it seemed to work for them and that's all that really matters in cycle touring.

After a nice warm shower I fell asleep as Jared talked on the phone with his ex forever before entering the tent around 2am. Tomorrow we would enter Wyoming and set our eyes on the Tetons.
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Sylvan Lake Lodge (5 days of Sabbath)

During my time at Sylvan I had but one goal, to see exactly what life has been like for my brother. Upon arriving I already felt the sense of awkwardness that he had spoke of. We were warned that we may be kicked out or arrested for staying in what I will affectionately call the employee barracks so we were slightly concerned and when my brother told me what they make him pay for food and housing I understood that working for Custer State Park is not a job with near the benefits of other parks.

When we finally got permission to stay I was quite relieved and I knew I would be able to enjoy all the benefits of guests as long as I was respectful. My goal for day 1 was to hike Harney Peak, the highest point between the Rockies and the Pyrenees, from which you can see four states on a clear day (Nebraska, Montana, Wyoming, and of course South Dakota).

After walking with Ricky to the general store where he works I filled up my Camelbak and set out for the trail. Something worth mentioning is that due to the dryness and elevation I found walking any distance more exhausting than all riding a bicycle all day. In my five days there I never really adjusted to this but the exhaustion was well worth it.

The beginning of the trail up to Harney's Peak was amazing as the sun hit the glistening rocks and the trail had a magical glow about it. For this reason the Black Hills are still my favorite part of the trip.

You would think riding all the way from NYC would put me in better shape than most but watching old people and little kids walk up the trail left me in doubt of my own abilities. But I finally reached the peak and on this clear day it was all worth it. A violent breeze swept across the top of the mountain but provided relief from the sun and dry heat. I later found out that a young man who was climbing at the peak was knocked off balance by the wind and fell 30 feet. He was badly injured but survived fortunately.

The rest of my time at Sylvan was spent relaxing for the most part. My brother took me kayaking and climbing for the first time and it was just what I needed. We also went down into Custer to watch the fireworks with his friends Laura and Sarah.

When it finally came time to leave I'll admit I was tempted to see if I could get a job with the lodge but I knew there were more miles to be ridden and while I am proud of my brother for living his adventure, the time our adventures intersected had to come to an end so I could continue mine.
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Rapid City - Sylvan Lake Lodge (Custer State Park)

I woke up early to watch Wimbledon with Fred before he headed off on a ride with Sherry. While they were away we used our time to be productive. I ate breakfast and read while Jared continued to sleep like a champ.

When they got back we continued watching Wimbledon and while I was enjoying a relaxing day, I had my suspicions that we may be underestimating the 30 miles between Rapid City and Sylvan...since they are called Black Hills.

Fred offered to take us to Cranky Jeff's bike shop downtown to get our cleats on our sandals fixed so we rode into town with him rather than give up the miles we had climbed last night. Cranky Jeff is appropriately named because he runs the shop on his own and has plenty of business because the man is a master mechanic. Still its an endearing kind of cranky. After making the permanent decision to add lock tite on my cleats I felt better about not having to worry about them coming loose which is essential to climbing hills (at least for an admittedly slow rider like me).

We headed back to the house and I swapped out the old Brooks saddle for the new softer lycra WTB saddle I purchased from Jeff. Instant relief but it did take a bit to adjust to the give of the soft saddle.

After eating lunch with our hosts we packed up and finally headed out around 1pm. An immediate climb into the pouring rain greeted us but so did our first taste of the gorgeous views of the Black Hills which made it all worth it.

Then I realized my rear brake was broken. It still worked but after squeezing the brake it would not go back to its original position and the line would slack. I new this would be a problem in the mountains and we might not hit a bike shop for a long time so I pulled over and called Fred who offered to come pick us up and take us to Cranky Jeff's again.

While I was calling Fred, a young overweight guy pulled up next to us in an SUV. I thought he was offering to help but he was mouthing, "get the (*expletive*) out of the road," through his window. We weren't on the road and it was a street with no traffic but I didn't know what he was saying because he wouldn't roll down his window. He finally did and while Jared tried to explain our situation I finished my phone conversation with Fred. The guy then drove 20 feet to the next driveway and turned around to head back past us. By this time I was off the phone and luckily he left his window down so I took the opportunity to try and get him to step out of his vehicle by yelling, "what's your problem?" He kept driving a few feet before it registered.

"What are you talking about man?"

"You don't have anything going on in your life do you?"

"Dude I was just saying good luck with your trip."

"Whatever man, you don't have anything going for you. Just get out of here."

I could have been meaner, should have been kinder, but sometimes you get sick of people in their cars and you have to snap back.

We headed back to Jeff's and he quickly discovered that my previous mechanic had used gear cable housing for brake lines so I needed a new cable and housing. Jeff dropped everything to fix it for me, explaining that if a guy rides halfway across the country he deserves special treatment. I thanked Jeff and put some of his stickers on my panniers and bike before snapping a picture with him.

Then we were off and as I said earlier we had to give back those miles of climbs. A steady grade hit us for basically all but the last 3 miles into Keystone where we hit a huge steep downhill. Getting out of Rapid at 4pm proved to be a mistake as I had to adjust my saddle several times while climbing 4mph.

We finally reached Keystone at 8pm and were right in the shadows of Mount Rushmore but only halfway to Sylvan. I decided it best to look for a ride in because running out of daylight and climbing on narrow roads seemed unsafe to me. I called my brother who found a friend named Angel (how appropriate) who was willing to pick us up.

As we rode in her truck I realized we made the right decision as the roads winded through narrow passes. If we hadn't been hit it would have been a miracle.

We finally arrived at the employee dorms where my brother greeted us around 11pm. I didn't care, I was finally with my brother, the moment I had waited for since Bellefonte, PA. To be honest I may have quit the trip in order to pursue other things with my time pretty early on because for a good stretch of the trip I was not having a good time and had all but decided I would enjoy church softball and a summer job far more. Knowing I could see my brother kept me going and now I could hardly believe I was here.

Ricky and I walked around the lake at dark and I could not tell how beautiful the area was under the cover of night but I had never seen so many stars in my life. There were so many I could hardly find the Big Dipper and I'm sure you could paint a million pictures with a connect the dots only God could construct.

After sharing pictures with each other we headed to sleep, eager for the next few days together in a slice of paradise.
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Rapid City - Sylvan Lake Lodge (Custer State Park)

I woke up early to watch Wimbledon with Fred before he headed off on a ride with Sherry. While they were away we used our time to be productive. I ate breakfast and read while Jared continued to sleep like a champ.

When they got back we continued watching Wimbledon and while I was enjoying a relaxing day, I had my suspicions that we may be underestimating the 30 miles between Rapid City and Sylvan...since they are called Black Hills.

Fred offered to take us to Cranky Jeff's bike shop downtown to get our cleats on our sandals fixed so we rode into town with him rather than give up the miles we had climbed last night. Cranky Jeff is appropriately named because he runs the shop on his own and has plenty of business because the man is a master mechanic. Still its an endearing kind of cranky. After making the permanent decision to add lock tite on my cleats I felt better about not having to worry about them coming loose which is essential to climbing hills (at least for an admittedly slow rider like me).

We headed back to the house and I swapped out the old Brooks saddle for the new softer lycra WTB saddle I purchased from Jeff. Instant relief but it did take a bit to adjust to the give of the soft saddle.

After eating lunch with our hosts we packed up and finally headed out around 1pm. An immediate climb into the pouring rain greeted us but so did our first taste of the gorgeous views of the Black Hills which made it all worth it.

Then I realized my rear brake was broken. It still worked but after squeezing the brake it would not go back to its original position and the line would slack. I new this would be a problem in the mountains and we might not hit a bike shop for a long time so I pulled over and called Fred who offered to come pick us up and take us to Cranky Jeff's again.

While I was calling Fred, a young overweight guy pulled up next to us in an SUV. I thought he was offering to help but he was mouthing, "get the (*expletive*) out of the road," through his window. We weren't on the road and it was a street with no traffic but I didn't know what he was saying because he wouldn't roll down his window. He finally did and while Jared tried to explain our situation I finished my phone conversation with Fred. The guy then drove 20 feet to the next driveway and turned around to head back past us. By this time I was off the phone and luckily he left his window down so I took the opportunity to try and get him to step out of his vehicle by yelling, "what's your problem?" He kept driving a few feet before it registered.

"What are you talking about man?"

"You don't have anything going on in your life do you?"

"Dude I was just saying good luck with your trip."

"Whatever man, you don't have anything going for you. Just get out of here."

I could have been meaner, should have been kinder, but sometimes you get sick of people in their cars and you have to snap back.

We headed back to Jeff's and he quickly discovered that my previous mechanic had used gear cable housing for brake lines so I needed a new cable and housing. Jeff dropped everything to fix it for me, explaining that if a guy rides halfway across the country he deserves special treatment. I thanked Jeff and put some of his stickers on my panniers and bike before snapping a picture with him.

Then we were off and as I said earlier we had to give back those miles of climbs. A steady grade hit us for basically all but the last 3 miles into Keystone where we hit a huge steep downhill. Getting out of Rapid at 4pm proved to be a mistake as I had to adjust my saddle several times while climbing 4mph.

We finally reached Keystone at 8pm and were right in the shadows of Mount Rushmore but only halfway to Sylvan. I decided it best to look for a ride in because running out of daylight and climbing on narrow roads seemed unsafe to me. I called my brother who found a friend named Angel (how appropriate) who was willing to pick us up.

As we rode in her truck I realized we made the right decision as the roads winded through narrow passes. If we hadn't been hit it would have been a miracle.

We finally arrived at the employee dorms where my brother greeted us around 11pm. I didn't care, I was finally with my brother, the moment I had waited for since Bellefonte, PA. To be honest I may have quit the trip in order to pursue other things with my time pretty early on because for a good stretch of the trip I was not having a good time and had all but decided I would enjoy church softball and a summer job far more. Knowing I could see my brother kept me going and now I could hardly believe I was here.

Ricky and I walked around the lake at dark and I could not tell how beautiful the area was under the cover of night but I had never seen so many stars in my life. There were so many I could hardly find the Big Dipper and I'm sure you could paint a million pictures with a connect the dots only God could construct.

After sharing pictures with each other we headed to sleep, eager for the next few days together in a slice of paradise.
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Badlands - Rapid City, SD

Waking up to the sight of the sun coming up over the Badlands was on par, if not better than waking up at the Missouri River in Chamberlain. Unfortunately I was in a rush to get packed up because while backcountry camping is legal in the park, you must camp at least a half mile from any road or trail. We were only about 50 feet from the road.

The one setback I faced in packing up quickly was that the dry bag I had been putting the tent in was nowhere to be found. Unfortunately it seems as though it blew away in the night into the canyon below...or a mountain lion ate it, but most likely it blew away.

So to adjust I simply moved things around and made room in one of my rear panniers for the tent and just like that problem solved. I'm clutch in high pressure situations so just call me McGuyver.

And thus began our day which started out on a hill of substantial grade. Climbing was the theme of the morning up pass after pass, all on only the fuel of a Cliff Builder bar.

After about 20 miles of riding I was starting to worry that I might implode from a bad case of being a fat kid with food withdrawal but then we finally hit the town of Wall. Remember my previous post about tourist traps and clever brainwash marketing? Well the town of Wall is second to none. They have billboards for Wall Drug for hundreds of miles. I have only seen the Big Texan in Amarillo attempt to beat their efforts but its no contest really. They advertise free ice water and 5 cent coffee every 200 feet or so. I was sold on that alone but when we found out they had a breakfast buffet for $10 I was in love with the place.

As an aside, this trip has had a strange way of throwing off my taste in food. When you ride as much as we do you are so hungry that a meal that would normally be a 4 is upgraded to at least an 8 just like that. Wall Drug's buffet was probably a 5 but it tasted like a 9 to me.

While we were eating we ran into Nick and Jessa again who had stayed in town last night. It has been nice having a familiarity with them over the past couple days but sadly this was the last time we would see them as they would bypass Custer.

After our meal I was sitting outside by my bicycle and a group of people who seemed to be in their retirement years. They started asking me about the trip and somehow we got onto the topic of what cause I was riding for. This is a fairly popular question we get asked and its nice to get to discuss what Lighthouse, Inc. does and what the current situation in Cleveland's project communities is.

As it turns out one of the men actually sent his two daughters to Olivet and they had just graduated so he said with all the extra cash he was able to take this trip out west. After politely telling him I was happily in a relationship and could not be set up with his daughter but that Jared could, he asked if he could pray for me. The group huddled around me and lay hands on me while they prayed. It was a surreal feeling to be prayed over in this way by total strangers (although they are my new friends) in a tourist trap like Wall. I was very blessed by this gesture of love by these people who I suspect were thinking of me as if I were their child. They took some photos with me and the bike and one of the sign I have attached to the rear rack with this blog address. I hope they happen upon this post even though it was over a week ago when this happened. I would like to thank you all if you are reading this.

After we departed from Wall we encountered much of what we had become used to, rolling hills with not much to look at except grass. Then we started to see men in tractors harvesting hay on the side of the road. At first I thought it was cool that they were making good use of the median on I-90 but it didn't take me long to figure out that I just might have a hay allergy. It shouldn't have surprised me because in August when I would go to school in Oklahoma I would get a shortness of breath and a weezing cough.

Unfortunately this cough and shortness of breath has yet to escape me even a week or so later in Wyoming. I now continue coughing out of habit and due to the dry climate we are in, but on this particular day in South Dakota I struggled heavily until we finally reached Rapid City, an oasis of sorts with a big city look and small town feel.

When we arrived we went to a truck stop to get a drink but we were stopped outside by a crazy old man who rambled on and on about all sorts of things for 30 minutes. I wish I could tell you his story but to be honest it bounced all over and I find myself in a rare loss for understanding of what exactly he was saying. After escaping we went inside only to realize we were too cheap to buy a drink there so we chose to relocate to fast food destinations. I went to McDonalds while Jared went to Arby's (because he's made of money apparently).

In McDonalds I was able to make some calls on wifi while waiting to hear back from our warmshowers host, Fred. We were hit with a steady downpour for awhile but waited it out inside for a change.

Then we climbed. And climbed some more. Then we headed down into a valley, giving up all the ground we had worked for just like that. Finally we reached the seemingly obligatory hill that all riders who host warmshowers seem to live on. Fred's house was on a hill that almost reached Richland Center status but thankfully one of his neighbors decided to converse with me from her car window as I rode up. She was saying how impressed she was and that she was a rider too and that the hill never gets easier. I was out of breath and didn't chat very much with her.

Fred wasn't home yet because he's an architect who was doing an open house for a building he restored in Pierre so he told me to let myself in the back door. That is where we were greeted by the most hateful cat I've ever met. She would hiss and growl at us from the time we arrived to the time we left but I think she secretly loves me.

Fred's house is simply incredible of course because he designed it but I can't describe it well enough so I won't try. You just would have had to been there. After meeting our hosts and showering we passed out quickly.
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Murdo, SD - Badlands National Park

Today I decided to get an early start and by the time Jared was packed I had already packed up, made myself oatmeal for breakfast, and gotten ready. I think its the first time I was faster than him at anything all trip.

After riding a grueling 1500 feet downhill we decided we better reload on calories so we stopped in at the GTO Diner and ordered a big breakfast where we met Clint (because he had a cowboy hat on). Clint chatted away with Jared but I didn't say a word because he was sitting to my left and my ear was still out of commission.

Then it was back to good ole Interstate 90 which looks pretty much the same for forever, but I'm pretty sure its just because of the state we're in. Aside from being boring its important to understand that in South Dakota there are marketing geniuses who place billboards from the same thing every 500 feet. By car you might well be able to breeze by some of them, but on bicycle you are going as slow as 6mph uphill and usually no faster than 15mph. You do the math but it takes awhile to go 500 feet sometimes and after entire days of seeing signs for the same things you sort of become brainwashed. Don't get me wrong, you know the places are going to suck (some more than others) but you can't help but want to make sure to prove yourself right and at that very moment you have become an idiot (otherwise known as a tourist). One such tourist trap we fell victim to was 1880 town which is famous for being used to film several movies. We decided to forgo the $9 admission price but we did go to the train car diner for our second large breakfast of the day.

We've been relatively blessed in our time in South Dakota so far as weather is concerned but today it started to become a factor as it made for rough riding along 90 in 105 degree heat with humidity.

I couldn't take much more heat so I got off 90 and headed toward a gas station that might as well have been an oasis. As we climbed the off ramp we met two touring cyclists, an uncle and his nephew, who are touring west to east and had just come through the Badlands. I had been against the idea of going through that area because I didn't want to pay admission (they told me it was only $7 for cyclists) and I didn't want to add miles (it only added about 10).

Only five minutes later we met Kyle, an ultra minimalist, touring from Portland to Chicago. When I say ultra minimalist I mean the guy had barely any gear on his bike, just a spare change of clothes, a small tent, and a sleeping bag basically. Just when we thought we had simplicity down Kyle shook our foundation. Not only is he not carrying any panniers, Kyle is touring on a fixed gear Rivendell Atlantis. Needless to say I respect his approach but to each their own on this one. I threw away some excess gear after this encounter but I'm keeping every gear I can get my hands on.

We said our goodbyes to Kyle and headed on to the Badlands which I will describe simply as breath taking. Don't get me wrong, its not the kind of place you'd want to live if you could but the way the sun hits the land, I never knew God liked to color.

I was getting hungry so after much debate I decided to splurge on the restaurant at their lodge where everything featured buffalo meat. I went with the loaded nachos while Jared did a buffalo burger.

Loaded up on calories, we set out in search of a good hidden spot to setup camp. But since we procrastinated we had to settle on a rock ledge halfway up a hill. After getting setup we found ourselves sliding throughout the night so I can safely say it was the worst sleep in awhile.
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Mind and Body Beginning to Strain

I must be honest, at some point I'm not sure a trip like this is always worth it, at least for some people. As much as it has been a fun ride so far, a dream really, I must confess I'm starting to waver.

What have I gained from this some 2500 miles of riding? I say I have gained quite a lot. I no longer have to doubt what it would be like to tour by bicycle. I can now say I know what it is like.

As for the remaining miles between myself and the ocean, it is true I have never been this far west out north, but I think of all the things that await for me after this trip and while I'm sure the land beyond this wasteland of Wyoming is certainly something to behold, at some point I recognize it might not be worth the sacrifice of so many other things.

I have not yet made the decision to call it a trip and head back, don't mistake my words there, but to be honest most of my reasons for continuing would be of a prideful nature and then of course there is the rather simple reason of simply finishing what my 12 year old mind started.

This is where my mind is right now. I'm sure in hindsight I would have chosen a route much different than this or a riding companion who didn't always leave me 15 miles behind, but for now I have to make due, lay in the bed I have made. Or do I? We'll see what happens as I pray about it in the next couple days.
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