The Standing Rock Bike Tour - Day 9 - Storms and Thorns (Steemit Exclusive)

October 18th, Day 9

I wasn’t sure why my tire didn’t want to hold air, but I was praying that it was just a slow leak. Scottsbluff was 70 miles away, and if I could make it there, I could buy an extra tube and continue my journey in peace.

With florescent skylights and an incessant buzzing, I didn’t get the best of sleep. Still, I was up and at it by day break. It felt odd to be breaking down camp in a bathroom, but it definitely beat being blown about by Wyoming’s infamous wind.

As I started pumping up my tire, the rest stop attendant returned.

“Good morning” he cheerfully stated, “How’d ya sleep last night?”

“Well enough,” I warmly replied, “Thanks again for letting me post up in here- that wind was brutal!”

“Ha, sure was!” He chuckled. “It definitely gets pretty gusty around here. It’ll pluck the feathers off your chicken if you’re not careful.”

He looked down at my tire. “You gonna be alright?”

“Yea, I should be fine. I’ve got some goo in the tube, and it seems to be a fairly slow leak. I might have to pump it up a time or two today, but I should be able to get it all worked out.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” He asked.

“Ah, you’re so kind! I think I’ll be good though. Thanks again for letting me sleep in here.”

“No problem.” he replied. He returned to his chores and kept bustling around the rest area while I finished packing up.

Before I left the area, I let the moving green hills pull me in once more. Suspended in fascination, I watched a hillside of hearty ponderosa pines bend with the wind as if they were lanky blades of grass, and listened to the breeze howl, as it swept past me.

It was going to be a long day, but I was ready for it.

I’d like to say I shot out of the rest area like a bullet from a gun, but with all the wind, my exit looked more of a slow race through mud. Although not as bad as the 45 mph gusts the day before, the wind still clashed against me.

Every once in a while, it’d give me a boost forward- but most of time, I was doing resistance training. I kept checking my back tire to see if it was losing air, but to my surprise, it was holding up nicely.

The further I went, the more the wind would relent. Soon enough, the grey sky that tucked me in that morning, dissolved into a warm blue sky overhead.

I passed through Kimball, restocked my snacks, then let the miles roll past. There wasn’t much to look at, just yellow grass that stretched as far as the eye could see.

It wasn’t until the afternoon that the void started to take form. To the Northeast, land masses sprung up. A royal butte now crowned the golden plains to my left, and for miles I watched it spin. Slowly changing angles, and catching shadows, it captured my attention as I passed through its gates.

Until now, the road and the butte raced parallel to each other, yet the two were rapidly merging. Then, as if entering a new kingdom, I climbed out of the plains into the Wildcat Hills. Finally I had some trees back in my life! Floating above the blandness of the plains, these limestone laced hilltops held space for the beauty of Nebraska, and truly let nature do the talking.

I could see why mountain lions were prone to the area. If I were a big cat, I’d live there. But I wasn’t a cougar, nor was I a big horned sheep. If anything, I felt more like a hawk.

As these thoughts ran through my head, I saw a figure in the sky. I’m not sure if it actually was a hawk, but it had wings and seemed to be enjoying the scene.

As the slope dipped, I loosened up my grip, and attempted to spread my arms out to fly. Unfortunately, the heavy trailer behind me kept me tethered to my handlebars, as I would fishtail every time I let go. I still felt like a hawk though, and as I soared down the road, I felt my wings rustle in the wind.

The forest of rich green pine trees were rapidly being replaced with jagged embankments, and all around me sprung up sandstone monuments.

You could tell Creator was here, chiseling away at the valleys with her streams, and rising up earthen statues with her sheer tectonic power. The landscape was clearly evidence of an artist, and a mighty one at that.

Large semi-trucks roared past me on the narrow highway leading out of the Wildcat Hills, and my excited heart kept pace with their expedient stride.

Scottsbluff was in sight, and stretched its streets out across the plains below. It wasn’t a massive city, but I could tell it was going to be large enough to have the supplies I needed.

I needed more than a tube now though. My chain kept chewing threw the spokes of my back wheel, and it was starting to make everything wobble. Every time I tried to shift into the granny gears, the chain would bunch, crunch, and cause all sorts of havoc. It would take me a second to recover, and return to a different gear, but all the stress was slicing through the tiny steel rods in my wheels.

My growing collection of spokes was starting to freak me out, and I knew I’d need to make some adjustments. According to my map, Sonny’s Bike Shop was just 15 miles away, and if I could make it there, I’d be able to get all fixed up, and could continue on my merry way.

Within the hour, I was there talking with Sonny himself. We swapped stories as he installed new spokes and a thorn proof tube.

“You’ll want to get a couple tire liners too!”

Pulling a sharp, barbed thorn from a jar, he looked me in the eye and said, “These little buggers are the devil! And they’re everywhere around here.”

He tossed a pack of tire liners my way.

“These will help…but I’d still avoid the grass if I were you.”

I paid my bill and thanked Sonny for his excellent service, even if his warning made me nervous.

My stomach was growling, so I fled to a nearby mall to quiet its roar with a sandwich. Finally in touch with some Wi-Fi, I started to mess around with my phone. I had a new voicemail, and as I opened it, I started to sink into a whole new slew of challenges.

First up to bat was my rent. Originally, I made plans for a friend to temporarily move into my bedroom while I was away. But, the purposed roommate flaked out, and now my brother (and fellow roommate) was wondering what my plans were (and who was going to pay the rent).

Was I going to have to head home after I made it to Standing Rock? Or was I going to be able to find someone to fill my spot, while I was away?

I wasn’t sure.

Ben was supposed to be riding my Pedicab while I was gone, but it didn’t sound like he even touched the cab yet, which meant I might need to pay for the pedicab rent as well.

My situation at home was crumbling apart; I was hundreds of miles away, and the only tool I had to use to remedy the chaos was attached to a wimpy, little charging cable.

I tried to lure my friends into renting my room while I was away, and sent out another blast of “space available” ads though social media. It wasn’t looking good though. I had planned to spend my winter up at Standing Rock, but now, I had to contemplate the possibility of turning back as soon as I got there.

The thought was unsettling. So, I ate a cookie. Then another one… And another… By the third cookie, I was feeling better. I tore into a bag of chips and thought about it some more.

“Going on this ride is me taking a stand, and even though I want to post up and help the Sioux Tribe fight off this pipeline through the winter, if I'm not able to stay, then I'm not supposed to stay- and I’m alright with that. "

The grey clouds overhead made me want to escape to the remaining patches of blue sky in the distance, but the darkness was starting to overtake them as well.

As I left town, I passed by four massive vats of raw sugar. Towering over a hundred feet up into the sky, I could smell their pungent scent, escape into the streets. Yet it wasn’t sweet. It was earthy and raw.

The scent occupied my mind for the next thousand feet, and then slowly faded. Alliance, Nebraska was sixty miles away, and I was running behind schedule. So, I engaged my muscles, tuned into a strong cadence, and then started pumping out the miles.

Sonny’s warnings of goathead thorns rung in my ears, as I watched the green turf on the edge of the pavement climb into the shoulder. Trying to evade its thorny green grasp, I spooned the edge of the roadside, only to hear heavy handed honks and semi-trucks billow past me.

I was riding a fine line in between a quick exit and quicksand.

I could see more silos in the distance, so I locked in on their lights, and launched towards them. They were my landmarks out here in Nowheresville; my mile markers; my cairns.

I threw myself into each stride, and engaged in an adrenaline enhanced dash. Completely immersed in a trance, I silently chanted, “Left, right, left, right,” like a holy mantra, and watched the world dissolve around me.

Then, like a dagger to my heart, a goathead thorn pierced my trailer. Doubling gravity’s burden, I slowed down and pulled over. I inspected my trailer’s tire, and sure enough, she was wounded. So, I unsheathed my pump and tried to revive her, trusting in goo to save us.

I saddled back up, and raced another couple hundred yards, only to feel the deflated tug of my trailer tire losing air once again. This time, I took the time to wrestle off the rubber tread to find the leak, and attempt to patch it.

A couple hundred yards down the road, I once again was defeated. Air bled from the trailer’s tire quicker than a balloon pops. Once again, I was alone, in the middle of nowhere.

Sure, I had brand new tubes and tire liners for the wheels on my bike, but for whatever reason, I forgot about my trailer tire. I was a fool, and I was about to get schooled.

The clouds overhead were getting heavier and I could feel more and more moisture saturate the air. I looked at my phone, and sure enough, the weather channel was warning me of a rainstorm headed my way.

The sun had set, but failed to paint upon the skies- it simply faded to gray. Just then a gust of wind swept by, and stole ten degrees from me. I zipped up my jacket, and faced the storm clouds.

I wasn’t exactly sure what to do, so I called up my Momma. She was always the first to get my “help, I'm in over my head and don’t know what to do” calls. This time however, I was feeling a little more grounded and up for the challenge.

I just wanted to let her know the scoop, so she could pray (and worry needlessly). I also couldn’t access my maps, so I wanted to see if she could help me find the nearest auto shop that could hook me up with another can of goo. I foolishly ditched my can of goo back in Pine Bluffs.

Before we were able to pinpoint where I was, and where help was, our call got disconnected. I tried again, but to no avail. So I called up Silky. I told him the situation, and gave him my rough coordinates. Then, with the skills and intuition of Siri, he informed me that my best option would be a Walmart back in Scottsbluff.

wasn’t thrilled at the thought of having to turn back now, but I also wasn’t thrilled at the thought of getting rained on and remaining helpless out in the cold. So I detached my trailer, wheeled it off into a shallow ditch on the side of the road, and covered it with a tarp.

All I had with me were a couple bike paniers for food and a couple extra layers of clothes. Everything else- my guitar, my hammock, my solar panels, 1000’s of dollars’ worth of gear- they were all left behind.

I prayed no one would touch them, and I was pretty confident in that prayer. In this weather, and at this time of night, it’d take a hawk’s eye to spot my trailer. As long as I was back before daylight tomorrow, everything was going to be just fine.

I looked around to anchor in a couple landmarks, and then darted across the highway. I picked up my bike and threw it over my back as I ran across the grass median that divided the highway. Then, as if saddling up a stallion, I hopped back on it's back, and raced all the way back to Scottsbluff.

I could see precipitation fall over the city lights before I ever felt it hit my skin. Increasing from a mist, to a drip, to a steady sprinkling, I hunkered down into the shell of my jacket, and pushed forward.

The scent of raw sugar now seemed to double its reach, and swept over me as I raced past the sugar silos. Raindrops bounced off my touchscreen as I tried to trace down some respite. Luckily a fast food restaurant wasn’t too far away.

Under a dripping awning, I locked up my bike, shook off the excess water on my jacket, and walked inside.

I’m not sure seeing a dollar menu ever made me feel so good, so I ordered some fries and a burger, and plopped down into a soggy puddle on the plastic seat.

I threw back a couple fries and fell into my phone. Surely I knew someone, who knew someone, who lived in Scottsbluff…or at least someone who lived near Scottsbluff.

In the halls of social media, I wandered.

I let my friends and family know that my journey had been derailed yet again, and that I was bunkered down at fast food restaurant, looking for leads on a place to sleep. My plan B was to sleep under a picnic table somewhere, but I was really hoping I'd meet someone who was willing to let me sleep on their couch.

For hours, I waited in the lobby and got associated with the dollar menu. I called up my Momma again and keyed her in on where I was, then searched Google Maps for a place to crash.

Hotels and hostels were out of my price range, and my faith in finding a free couch to surf was rapidly dwindling. I suspected I was going to have to sleep outside tonight, so I scoped out my options. I knew most cities had “camping bans," and would give me a ticket if I slept in their park. Churches on the other hand, seemed to be more forgiving.

So I searched online for churches in the area. Not only did I have access to where they were all at, if I clicked on them, I could see a panoramic view of it, and determine wether or not their was a concealed bunch of bushes to dive into.

I looked up, and saw two young kids playing with trading cards across the room. They noticed me noticing them, and we shared a smile. I went back to my phone, and they went back to their game. Then, as they left, the girl handed me a game card, folded around a piece of paper.

The note read:

“Hello, my name is Grace. I saw you over there and you looked kinda sad. So I wanted to give you this Yu-Gi-Oh card to cheer you up! I hope everything gets better for you!”

I finished reading the note and looked up to see the girl smiling at me. She couldn’t have been more than 14. Seeing the kindness in her eyes gave me another spark of hope. That, along with the encouragement I was receiving from friends online, gave me the strength I needed to get through the night.

I could see the girl working the front counter didn’t want to kick me out, but as I looked at the clock, I knew she needed to. I left before she had to say anything. I found a nearby church that looked suitable, and knew it had finally come time to check into my bush.

I circled the building trying to find an inconspicuous little nook to bunker down in, but was somewhat out of luck. I settled for a discrete, wind-blocked corner, and nestled myself in between the wall and an electrical unit.

I was wearing all the layers I had with me, and was trying miserably to use my helmet as a pillow. Balled up in the fetal position, and felt the cold, hard, unrelenting ground beneath me.

My breathe fogged in front of me, so I shifted around, and tried to breathe all of that warm air into my jacket. Even that wasn’t doing the trick.

I might have pulled a couple winks of sleep out of that spot, but after a while, I gave up. I pulled out my phone to see the temperature.

“What the fffffffff… uh! 34 degrees? I give up! I’m done! I don’t want to do this anymore!” I shouted to myself as I typed Walmart into my GPS.

“I hope to God this place is still open!” I continued on, shivering fiercely.

Sure enough it was, and within moments, I was across the street speeding towards the supermarket.

I wandered the isles for a while, and warmed up. Then, as the frost started to de-thaw from my bones and melt from my mind, I felt the kick of adrenaline subside, and a sense of sleepiness kick in.

I tried sleeping upright on the bench outside the bathrooms for a while, but nothing seemed to feel right; I couldn’t get comfortable, let alone sleep.

I was now somewhat desperate, so I dipped into the bathroom and went all the way to the handicap stall in the back. I sat down, fidgeted on my phone for a little while, and then went for it.

Screw modesty.

I grabbed a roll of toilet paper, tossed it on the ground, then proceeded to situate it as a pillow. With my feet at the base of the toilet, and back against the wall, I closed my eyes, and waited for this awkward night to end.

It wasn’t the warm comforter and plush pillows that my Mom’s guest room had, but at least it wasn’t freezing.

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Just now tuning in? The Standing Rock Bike Tour is getting released exclusively on Steemit, day by day, for the next two months.

Previous Chapters Include-
Introduction- Igniting the Fire at Unify
Day 1- Indigenous People's Day
Day 2 - Musical Mantras
Day 3 - Bottling My Prayers
Day 4 - Glorious Heights
Day 5 - Inner TurmOil
Day 6 - Massive Strides
Day 7 - Sunset Stallions
Day 8 - Wind River

The Story Continues...

Learn more, and access all available chapters at-
http://www.righteousendeavors.com