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Route: Minot, N.D. to Rudyard, Montana
Miles: 489
July 19, 2008 - OK..........we're back in action. As previously mentioned, I spent the night at the Lake Louise Alpine Center in Alberta, Canada working with Microsoft to resolve the virus issue. Thank Goodness, that mess appears to be behind me.
Playing catch-up on this blog is going to be tough but I'll give it a concentrated effort. I'm actually going to pre-date everything so that it makes sense.
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I'm going to go back and try to play catch-up:
I left the last real post with the meeting of Mr. & Mrs. Elling of Rudyard, Montana. They were the owners of the farm I mentioned. After explaining that I wanted to pay for a camping spot to sleep out on the prairie, Mr. Elling was kind enough to educate me on the differences between western farmland and what I was mistakenly referring to as "prairie."
"Prairie" refers to land that has never been turned or cultivated. With the exception of natural erosion and the effects of nature, it is pretty much as it was in the days of the Native American Indian or western cowboy. Anything that has been cultivated is referred to as either farmland or perhaps grasslands. Thank you Mr. Elling for helping me to understand the difference and I didn't intend to offend your farm with my lack of understanding.
Now, I'm thinking he's going to send me packing when I show up out of nowhere asking to sleep on his land. I mean, it's getting really late in the evening, I'm all dressed in a bug-splattered jacket and black "swat-team" looking vest and riding a bike. Probably not the most common or trustworthy sight he's layed eyes on in a while.
When I hear the words "This is really weird" I know he's sending me on down the road.......haaaaaaaaaaaa. As it turns out, he is referring to the irony of having lived on the farm for 70 years (that day was his 70th birthday) and never having had such a request until last year. Seems I'm only the second rider to have ever approached him with such a request and both of us have done so within the last two years.
Fortunately, he was extremely accommodating and directed me to a beautiful site on a distant hilltop. I offered to give him a couple hundred dollars and to keep my sidearm as a form of security deposit indicating that I intended him no harm but he would have none of it. Neither would he accept any money for my campsite despite my insisting that he do so. All he asked was that I send him some pictures. Thank you Mr. & Mrs. Elling for your kindness. I hope you are following along on the blog.
Ironically, he tells me he's the owner of a nice 1200cc Harley-Davidson and that he had started it just that morning to hear it run for a few minutes. I dread to imagine what his reaction may have been to my request had he not been a rider himself............haaaaaaa.
Picture # 1:
My view out on what I call the "prairie" and the campsite provided by the Ellings. Nothing man-made in front of me for as far as the eye can see. The sky must have held a million more stars that night and the silence was deafening.
Thank you Mr. & Mrs. Elling for one of the most wonderful nights of camping I've enjoyed on this trip.
Picture # 2:
This is fine old specimen in the form of a 1949 Chevrolet. While most people see an old rusty dented pickup, I see a lot of history and potential. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to locate anyone to give me the story on this old truck but one can only speculate what it may have seen in it's day. As I mentioned, most people probably see little more than a rusted down old piece of junk truck, but a click on this link shows you what I see when I spot a gem like this.
Picture # 3:
Just an example of the enormous pump jacks scattered across the Dakotas and eastern Montana. I must admit, this was one of the larger ones I've seen and somewhat bigger than the ones I once tended when working in the west Texas oil fields in the early 1980's.
Picture # 4:
Again, no history was available as this old church sat in the middle of nowhere without a town for miles. I was captured by it's color and Spanish looking design as much as anything. Long since abandoned as a place of worship, it would have been interesting to hear the walls talk. Anyone notice the hawk circling overhead?
Picture # 5:
While this picture is a bit out of chronological order, I got a kick out of this and thought it worthy of posting. I know some of you are going to get a real kick out of this, especially you Chattanooga, TN and Lake LeAnn, Michigan folks.
As I checked into a room in western Minnesota late one night, I noticed a group of Harley-Davidson bikes parked nearby. It was really late so I never had an opportunity to see or speak with any of them. I slept in a bit later than normal and came out to this exact sight. At first, I begin laughing thinking the H-D riders hadn't departed without giving me a non-so-subtle reminder that they disapproved of me riding a non-American made motorcycle. I was laughing over the humor of it before realizing it wasn't the H-D guys after all, but instead those 53 mph winds that had actually ripped the flag, pole and all, from the brick columns of the building and deposited it on the Freedom Machine exactly as you see it in this picture.
I still laugh at the irony of the flag landing where it did, what it stands for, and my name ("Freedom Machine")for the Beemer.
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