Not A Boring Ride Report

I thought this was going to be a boring ride report. A wind blowing primarily from the north kept us chilled all day but did little to hamper our progress. We have been on the Standing Rock Reservation most of the day. We rode 71 miles to McLaughlin under clear skies. Trip total 1513.

That should have been it.

We stopped for lunch at McIntosh. The server said that she had seen our tent in the city park at Lemmon. When we asked what we might find in McLaughlin we were told:

A) We did not want to camp in the city park. "They want to have some gangs in McLaughlin." (I could not verify this information but wanted to take a room for the night anyway. It had been too many days since my last shower and shave).

B) The Prairie Dog Cafe in McLaughlin had good food.

C) There was a motel in McLaughlin. The owner had been remodeling it all summer.

We found the motel at the edge of town. It was clearly still being remodeled. A dumpster full of construction debris was parked in the middle of the yard. An electric sign in the office window read "OPEN" in an inviting manner. There were two hand printed signs on the locked door. One said, "Please Ring Doorbell." The other said, "If You Have Any Questions Please Call..." and listed two phone numbers.

Ringing the doorbell produced no results. BJ called the first number. He got a recording to the effect that the number was no longer in service. He called the second number. The owner answered on the fourth ring. He was in Mobridge and was entirely unhelpful.

We went to the Cenex station to see what we might learn. The teenaged clerks there didn't know much.

We tried the Prairie Dog Cafe, hoping at least to get a meal. It is closed on Saturdays.

We talked to a local resident on the street. He hadn't a clue where we might lodge, didn't know if camping was allowed at the park, and told us that the Cenex station was our only chance for food on a Saturday night in McLaughlin.

I asked him where the Lutheran Church was thinking that I might call the pastor and beg for help. He pointed us around the corner and, as I started to ride up the street, a pickup truck came along behind me blowing its horn. I assumed that the horn was a comment on my riding and kept going as far as the corner. When I looked back I saw BJ talking to the driver.

She said, "You want a room?"

BJ answered, "We were hoping to stay at the motel."

She said, "I have a key. Meet me there." Apparently the owner had sent her.

We are spending the night in a small, drafty, single room with no heat. We were able to take warm showers and got a shave. We have a roof over our heads and a flush toilet. We had subs at the Cenex station.

We're OK.

A Fix-it Upper