Becca's Oddysey

I began my drive homeward yesterday. I’ll miss our morning send-offs from the van, my fussing like a mom getting kids ready for school: “Have you got your lunch? Do you have enough water? Is the bike all set?” And the evening camp meals, settling down into our respective burrows, listening to trains rumble by as we drifted off to sleep (for some reason every campground was located near the Burlington Northern railway route).  Probably the most serendipitous part of the trip for me was the uniqueness of each tiny town, which often seemed to lack any charm at first glance. The people were all so helpful and generous—the waitress at the local bar on our last night together, the Hutterites who sold us baked goods, the many folks who helped Becca with bike advice, the Native Americans who fixed my van. I was truly humbled by their kindness and less apt to judge a town by its appearance as a result. Becca adds the following epilogue: “  This morning was the last of our travels toget...

After leaving Choteau, MT Thursday I drove south, and Becca ended up having a big breakfast at the local cafe, with a trucker whose rig was a little bigger than hers. The biking was only around 35 miles and no wind today! Yay! The great plains are not as flat as drivers may think. Rolling hills are still a challenge for cyclists. Some of the roads are narrow and heavily used by large trucks that come barreling down on the lone cyclist.  I made my way to the First Peoples Buffalo Jump State Park, where I hiked for about 3.5 miles down and around a butte.  This is a spot where great plains tribes would hunt buffalo by chasing them on horseback (or even running in front of the herd) to the edge of a cliff and then jumping out of the way just in time. Hunters would wait at the bottom of the cliff to kill any buffalo who were still alive. There are a lot of critters out there in the prairie: all kinds of birds (saw a pheasant and 3 of her chicks), antelope, rabbits and marmots/prai...