The summer mode has arrived. After
a busy few months, May and June as packed as possible, we have made the
transition to the lake. With that, afternoon naps, water fun, and hours with
“nothing to do”. Splendid time to write.
Tour de Kota, Round II was another
wild ride. Though the start date was mid June, training began the moment I
clicked “Submit” on the TdK Registration site. Once committed, the trainer in
the garage seemed to beckon me. My mantra of running three, four, five, six
miles a day satisfied my training regimen for most of the winter. With our
beautiful spring, I was able to log quite a few miles in April and May, ending
up with 410 actual training miles on my Jamis odometer, plus a random 100 on my
town bike. My final push was a 66 mile ride to Langford into a strong west
wind. Riding colleague David Trefz had told me about this, “Sweet ride” coming
east from Langford and I wanted to try it. I knew I’d be maxed out this
particular Monday in the wind, but if I could just make it to through the headwind
to Langford, I’d have the tailwind to bring me home. Ron and Tyler both at
work, and Hannah sleeping in, I left a note on the counter, packed a few
granola bars, PB sandwich, an apple, water bottle and took off. I actually
considered turning around at John Deere, about half mile out of town. I decided
to try to make it to Holmquist. How does one eat and elephant? One bite at a
time. It was all I could do to push 7-8
mph, but slowly and steadily, I pulled into The Hot Spot in Bristol, and ten miles under my belt, (under
my seat is more appropriate in this case). With my peanut butter sandwich
devoured and water bottle full again, I convinced myself that the Langford road
was within reach and the winds had to be easier to handle heading north. Off I went.
Turning north on the Pierpont road, expecting a reprieve, I was shaking my head
in disbelief. The side wind was not much better. Eight miles to Pierpont and
another eight to Langford. I kept going knowing that once I made it to
Pierpont, I’d have no choice but continue on, as it would be silly to turn
around at that point, nearly half way by then. Eating an apple and a granola
bar at the ball park in Langford, tucked out of the wind, an older fellow
working in his yard, ambled across the street shaking his head. “I saw you
coming into town and thought you had to be crazy to be out in this wind.” Yes, that
would be an accurate description. I told him about the upcoming Tour and he
encouraged me. “You’ve made it this far, Langford is only another eight miles.”
The last bit into the wind was manageable. I found an egg salad croissant at
the convenience store along with a chocolate milk, and I felt like I conquered
the world. I called home to report in and give Hannah my ETA. Heading east with
the tailwind felt marvelous. I even called Ty on route, coasting along on the
cell phone. The rest of the ride was downhill, literally. A few hills to climb
on the Britton road, but nothing too intimidating. One more bathroom stop at Bristol, and I blew home.
Honest to goodness, I sailed along at 18-20 mph with an intermittent amount of easy
pedaling. Total trip time was about six hours, it took me four to get there and
only two on the return. As I was crossing Main Street, dreaming of my egg burrito, cold
milk, and a shower, John Suhr motioned me over. He wanted to let me know that
his wife LeAnn and David Trefz, fellow riders, were planning a ride at 5:00. I
had to decline the invitation. With that ride on the training log, I figured I
was prepared for whatever winds the Tour brought. As it turned out, we had our
share of fierce, day long head winds, thus the Langford ride was solid
training.
With gear packed, fridge stocked,
lists on the counter for the kids, we three Webster TdK’ers headed for Dell
Rapids on June 16th. The ride promised 470 miles in six days,
including two 90+ mile days. The chance for a Century Ride was real.
Our arrival time into Dell Rapids clicked with
5:00 Mass at St. Mary’s. Then supper in the park and early bed time. None of us
fared real well that first night in camp, with the carryings-on of other park
visitors, sleep alluded us. Then a little before 4:00, the breakfast crew
arrived. Might as well tear down camp instead of lying in the tent wide eyed. Tent
zippers started zipping and the day began. We knew the south wind and heat was
suppose to crank up as the morning wore on, so we opted for a 5 AM departure
time. Pancakes, sausage, and fruit filled the fuel tanks. By starting early, we
would miss the first few rest stops, and that was fine as long as we had a solid
head start on the weather. What we didn’t count on was the first four stops to be vacant. Thirty four
miles later, with a few roadside water, granola bars, and saddle breaks, along
with some Trident, we were in Lennox. The
grocery store had a few bikes in front, and more importantly the promise of a
bathroom. We commiserated with fellow riders about the absence of the SAG wagon
and open rest stops. LeAnn and I had ridden ahead and missed David at Lennox so we rode on, passing on the 9:30 AM walking tacos
they were setting up in the park. Worthing was
eight miles ahead and there just had
to be a food stop there right? One lone port-a-potty in a church parking lot
was all that welcomed us. I recognized a rider from last year, Casey, and
struck up a simple, “How are you doing?” conversation. As we headed out, he
rode alongside and asked if he could join us. Being a strong rider, we welcomed
him into our duo draft line with open arms. Soon we added another fellow, who
from then on was referred to as Windy Day Mike, and the four of us fought for
the last 21 miles. One water stop about 7 miles outside of Beresford was the
only official stop we encountered. I was completely maxed out. Not a bit of
energy left, secretly wondering how I was ever going to make five more days of
this. With some fresh water, new sticks of gum, we plunged onward. Somehow we
made those last miles. Arriving in Beresford, we sprawled out in the shady
grass and sighed. A couple of granola bars washed down with a cold Gatorade,
and I felt somewhat normal again. The hunger shakes were gone. David rode into
camp not long after. With tents up and showers complete, the daze we were in
earlier seemed to pass. We agreed on supper at The Dark Horse, which was featuring
Chicken Alfredo and Peach Cobbler. It was part of an old train depot and had a
lot of character. Food delicious, air conditioning fabulous, and soft couch
wondrous. Returning to camp, I found my tent in the full sun, creating my own
personal oven. I opted for the picnic shelter with Wi-Fi and laptops. First
post on Facebook was one of shear survival. As the sun went down, though the
tent was hot, I was too tired to complain. Alarms set for 4 and egg bake at 5.
Day one, 73 miles logged.
Day two Beresford to Brandon. LeAnn awoke to a
flat tire, but with just a smidge of manly assistance, she changed the tire. I
watched. The Newton Hills area had its moments. A grand descent which offered a
30+ mph thrill, ended abruptly with a set of rumble bars at the bottom, mere
feet from the ascent. One moment the hill was our best friend, a second later,
the honeymoon was over and it had transformed itself into a commanding, steep incline.
Gears were moving! The shade of the Newton Hills was refreshing. My rest stop
routine had been established, port-a-potty, water, food, sunscreen,
port-a-potty (always the first and last thing I do at each stop). The Novartis
Company, which creates plant based immunization for livestock, hosted our next
stop near Larchwood. We were first greeted with a fruit and hydration station-
I love the sound of that-followed by a great burger/brat lunch. The bathroom
truck had AC! Definitely the best stop on the entire Tour. A close second
though was the Manley Corner rest stop just 14 miles down the road, a tire
store, recently renovated with lovely AC, comfy waiting room chairs, and an
impressive six foot cross with the words, “For the Glory of God” in large oak
letters. Friendly tire folks were shaking their heads wondering what would
posses someone to be biking out in this heat. I’m going with the grace of the good
Lord as my reason. I surely could never accomplish this feat on my own. We
arrived in Brandon,
the blazing sun directly overhead with 63 miles behind us. More than a dozen
food vendors were set up. We could eat to our heart’s content. Our tents were
set up in a wooded area behind the park, though air movement was nearly
non-existent. Not much time spent in camp the remaining afternoon hours. I
estimate my interior tent temperature at 110 or higher. The shower shuttle also
catered to other locations. I took them up on a ride to the Catholic church for
6:00 Mass. I opted for yogurt and an apple to settle my topsy turvy stomach
that night. A Sioux Falls
band, the Hegg Brothers, was on stage for our listening pleasure. Joe and
Robin, friends from last year, came for the music, and we enjoyed a little gab
fest. Tomorrow would be our 100 mile ride. Sleep would be crucial.
Day three Brandon
to Marshall. 4
AM wake up call. I heard the sudden whoosh of air as LeAnn opened the valve on
her air mattress and smiled as I did the same. Such a laundry list of Tour
specific sounds: mattress pumps buzzing, tent zippers, plastic bags crumpling,
quiet mutterings, moans of stiff bodies crawling out of tents. Our breakfast
was hosted by the Hockey Association and by 5:20 we were pedaling. Being ahead
of schedule meant that the Pipestone lunch stop was upon us about 9:30. Rather
strange to be eating pulled pork at that time of day, but our stomachs demanded
refueling. By the time Lake
Benton greeted us, the temps
were soaring into the 90’s. I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed a chocolate milk
and frozen Snickers as much as that day. I had ridden into town with Dennis
McDermott, a retired teacher from Aberdeen,
and was trying to meet up with LeAnn and Dave. I must have missed them at the
corner, so I decided to venture ahead on my own and spotted Father Jim and
Mark. I pedaled up and asked if we could form a trio. Great conversation with
these two men. In Russell, I hooked up with my riding partners again and we
made it the rest of the way to Marshall.
The heat had started to take its toll on me. I was feeling it. At the Marshall Middle School, I ran cool water over my
wrists, splashed my face and stood in front of the fan for some relief. Nothing
could have sounded sweeter than the words Dave spoke when I came outside. “We’ve
been invited to spend the night in a fellow’s basement a few blocks away!” Tim
Boyd, a State Farm agent and TdK volunteer, opened his home to us. Our odometers
read between 97 and 98 miles, so taking the long way out of the parking lot, we
toured a bit of the neighborhood in order to see the 99.9 roll its way to 100 –
my first Century Ride! Tim and his wife Kathy’s hospitality was one heavenly
gift. Talk about being at the right place at the right time. We showered,
lounged in his Man
Cave, let our bodies
absorb the AC, and shook our heads repeatedly in wonder at how fortunate we
were at that moment. Marshall’s
pasta feed was delicious, a stop at the Bike Shop proved successful too, as I
acquired a sleeveless floral biking top. Tim’s generosity didn’t cease, he even
offered to launder our sweaty biking clothes! A fine Tour day.
Day Four-Marshall to Watertown. Having just
completed a 100 mile day, the thought of doing 95 miles the very next day was
too much. We agreed to take advantage of the SAG wagon for a jump start into
Ivanhoe. The rain started as we loaded our bikes onto the trailer. The black
ominous clouds were upon us quickly as we headed west. The thunder and lighting
came too. There were about 80 riders on the highway when the storm blew in. We
watched from the comfort and safety of the Suburban in amazement as bikers
sought shelter in farmhouses along the way. Pickups and campers pulled to the
side of the road to provide aid to the drenched cyclers. When we arrived in
Ivanhoe, we found the hallways covered with blankets and towels. Bikers
shivering cold and soaked to the skin. Never have I felt luckier to be warm and
dry, so grateful not to have been out in that dreadful weather. The volunteers
had the most delectable caramel rolls, which were snatched up rapidly.
Listening to the tales of those who survived the elements, I was more and more
convinced that Divine Intervention was at work. Father Jim and Mark had found
refuge at a farm house, sitting on the deck, using a grill cover as rain gear.
Bikers sat shivering with towels wrapped over their shoulders trying to dry
out. The TdK staff gave a few updates, noting that once all the riders were off
the road between Marshall and Ivanhoe, they’d announce a plan for the remaining
ride. Conflicting reports were coming in regarding the weather in Canby, 19
miles away, some said rain was heavy, and others reporting the worst seemed to
have passed. Dave opted for bicycle power, and LeAnn and I settled with the,
“There’s a fellow with a pickup willing to shuttle us” route. Canby’s
Cattleman’s Association had warm tender beef sandwiches. We may have felt a
slight tinge of guilt indulging in such fine fare, after a ride in the truck,
when others had pedaled there, but it passed after the first bite. We took a
little harassment from our house mate David, whom we had become acquainted with
at Tim’s, but all in good fun. We were warned about the treacherous hills going
into Clear Lake. The reports were not a bit
overrated. What seemed to be hill after hill loomed ahead, and the winds worked
against us too. It was 5:00 before we ended up in Watertown. It turned out to be a Family
Reunion event, as Dave’s wife, LeAnn’s husband, and Ron, Tyler,
and Hannah all came to the Redlin
Center to take in the TdK
camp site. We enjoyed good company, Applebee’s savory food, and topped it off
with McDonald’s ice cream. Only 55 miles today, but well earned.
Day 5 Watertown to DeSmet 60 miles.
After a peaceful night at the Redlin
Center, we were
re-energized. With a short day in front of us, we opted to sleep in until 5 and
grab a bite about 6. It was my turn to wake up to a flat tire though. Luckily
the guys at Harlan’s Bike Shop were ready to assist. Kevin gave a little play
by play for me as he changed the tire. My valve stem had been a bit too tight
and the tube was damaged. I think I’m ready to have a hand in the actual tire
changing routine now. I’d rather practice a few times in the comfort of my own
garage before tackling the job on the side of the road though. The tire
business didn’t take long at all and once I finished my HyVee breakfast
burrito, we were ready. We took a few side roads out of town and ended up on a
beautiful new blacktop. Cool temps in the 60’s, little wind, and all was right
in the world. We had great rest stops and a super lunch at Lake Norden.
We pulled into DeSmet in the early afternoon, found an open shower right at the
park, and even had time for an afternoon nap. Great breeze drifting through the
tent. Woke up hungry and refreshed. Father Jim was saying Mass at 5:30, and it
was just a block away. We met up with David and walked downtown for lasagna,
which turned out to be goulash, but oh well. The ice cream social at the park
made up for it. Our perfect night’s sleep was interrupted by a loud crew
pulling into camp at 11:30, way past a biker’s bedtime. They were having a good
time, unfortunately only ten feet from my tent. Once they settled down, I was
out a good hour of sleep. Dang!
Day 6 DeSmet to Dell Rapids – 84
mile final ride. We started out early anxious to find our way home. The Howard
stop was a filling one, eggs, sausage and fruit. Canova was to be our next stop
promising pie, but we missed a turn, and continued east in error. Ken, a rider
from Canada,
had joined us in our detour. We talked to a farmer and determined we could find
County Road 52 if we continued on a few miles and took the next tar road south.
It worked and we met up with some bikers at Orland. A couple of guys recognized
us as the foursome who went off course. They had tried to alert us, but their
voices lost in the breeze apparently. We turned out fine though, actually saved
two miles in the long run. No pie, but as Ma Ingalls says, “Alls well that ends
well.” The Chester Prom Committee met us
along the side of the road with subs and goodies. Only 17 miles remaining, a 12
mile ride, then 5 into Dell Rapids. I ventured off from the group after a big
hill climb and ended up on my own for a bit. Soon I caught up to a biker, a
psychiatrist from Argentina,
now a Pierre
resident. Oh the people one meets along the way. A short chat with this
gentleman helped the miles tick away. I actually skipped the last stop and soon
saw a sign noting 3 miles to Dell Rapids. I could do that! The park was a
welcome site. I was right back where I started 6 days earlier. Off that bike.
It wasn’t long at all and LeAnn and Dave pulled in. A few high-fives and a
shower and we were on I-29 northbound to Webster. What a feeling! All the not
so great moments, the stressful miles in the wind, aching muscles, unbearably tender
backside, and unpleasant conditions seem to fade, soon overlooked by the
shining memories of a successful Tour de Kota. SD’s beautiful rolling hills,
fields painted in dozens of shades of green, the early morning coolness, good
people, wonderful stories, kind hearted strangers, and delicious food, all lead
me to think I’ll be here again next year.
David, LeAnn, and I after a delicious rest stop in Clear Lake.
