Little Yosemite Campground on Sheyenne River to Fargo, ND. 76.4 Miles.
On the road a little after 10 am, I climbed steeply for a short distance out of the Sheyenne River floodplain, and was on my way to the town of Enderlin, about an hours ride away, to seek out breakfast #2. I always eat something that I have on hand when I first wake up. In this case, I had 2 blueberry bagels and a protein bar. This usually lasts me through the time it takes to pack up, and can buy me an hour or two of riding before I have to eat again.
A short detour off my route, the same route following Highway 46 that I had been on for such a long distance yesterday, wound me through a residential neighborhood of cute homes with nicely manicured gardens, before reaching the main street of Enderlin.
The mature hardwood trees in the yards and along the street were impressive.
There was one row of businesses in town that had a cafe, post office, Rexall drugstore, and a few other small businesses.
I was headed to the "Traxside Cafe". The colorfully decorated benches out front advertised their menu. "Pizza", "Burgers & Fries", "Pies", "Steaks", "Cookies", and partially removed under the likely advice of someone in town, "Hot Meat".
Inside the waitress and clientele were friendly, and the food was good. I had a plate of huge pancakes with eggs and sausage. Oh, and of course, coffee, but not because of the suggestive advertising on the wall.
As I pulled away from the Traxside Cafe, several bicyclists were rolling into town. I noticed a van across the street with a set of bike racks on top. The van-supported group was riding across the U.S. for a cause, starting on the East coast, benefitting MS. The arriving cyclists were the first in a long line of about 20-30 that I would intermittently pass on my way down the highway for the next hour or so.
I decided to have some fun as I passed some of them heading in the opposite direction. As I approached a young guy, without slowing down, I waved. When he waved back, I then yelled to him, "You're going the wrong way!" He laughed. Subsequent outbursts to other cyclists included such random things as, "A 5-oz swallow can't carry a 1-lb coconut!", or "A peanut is neither a pea nor a nut!", or with a screech of panic, "Bees!!!". The reactions varied from outcries of laughter to weaving confusion to thoughts of, "Don't make eye contact, just keep riding, maybe I'll be spared." I can only imagine the conversations among the group later that day.
Winds were out of the Northwest mainly, which helped me in my Eastward momentum. But, when I made the turn to the North, I doubled the effort and slowed down with the wind in my face. The rest of the ride for the day would consist of a zig-zag pattern, North, then East, then North, then East, and so on as I headed into Fargo on the Eastern border of North Dakota.
Just getting started with my Northward trajectory, I skirted along the Eastern edge of the town of Kindred. A few blocks ahead of me, a cyclist pulled out of the town and headed North. He saw me approaching and decided to stop and wait for me to catch up. "Headed to Fargo", he asked. Knowing that I was going to have to work harder to get there with the jagged nature of my route, I wanted to see if Kindred had a diner to refuel before pressing on. I replied to him, "Yes, but I was hoping to stop here and find something to eat first." He recommended a cafe he had just eaten at in the center of town that he thought closed in about 20 minutes. I thanked him and headed into town.
Entering the cafe, I noticed a case at the front with home-made chocolates and baked goods. Jackpot! I ordered a burger and side salad to start. Unlike the previous side salad I had at a small-town cafe consisting of iceberg and croutons, this salad had an assortment of veggies including cucumbers, shaved carrots, and those slippery little cherry tomatoes. I say slippery because as I tried to stab one of them, it fired off the plate to the Southwest, bouncing off the back of the booth seat I was sitting in, my head jerking back and forth as I followed and tracked it's next move. "Who let this guy in the door", I thought to myself as I picked the little red pinball off the floor. Catching my breath, I looked straight ahead to the sign on the wall, hanging prominently in front of me, as if someone just seeing my cherry tomato episode, hung it up in response so that I was sure to see it....
Apparently, it was my call as to whether or not I should eat the darn thing. "It doesn't deserve to be eaten", I thought to myself.
Dessert could not be passed up at this place. The special on the menu: Key -Lime pie. It was difficult to pause to take the picture before devouring it.
Energized, I zig-zagged my way into Fargo. An approaching thunderstorm to the West, combined with a partially flooded city campground along the Red River in the middle of town, left me looking for a cheap motel near the city center. I was planning a 2-night stay here, needing a bike tune-up, and to focus on Victoria's birthday tomorrow. The Howard-Johnson was the place, just 2 blocks from the hip and funky historic city core on Broadway. Recent and significant revitalization of this area has resulted in a delightful set of streets with artists shops, cafés, bars, and restaurants.
Absolutely hilarious. I can only imagine the looks on those other riders faces as you passed them by spouting off such randomness. I love it and couldn't stop laughing. The sign above your booth at lunch was awesomely appropriate. Wish Victoria a belated happy birthday. Go Judd
ReplyDeleteI agree with Pattie! I was wondering if they put the cherry tomatoes on the salad just so they can watch you try to catch it. If you get one in your mouth and bite you can also squirt the person across the table from you. So glad you made if before closing.
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