The Rise Up Ride: Day 11 Full Blown Prairie Cycling And Local Grub
Date: 3 May 2021
Start Location: Huron, South Dakota
End Location: Wessington Springs, South Dakota
Distance: 64.4 km
Time: 3:56
Elevation: 275 m
Total elapsed: 6:04
The wind blew gusty today directly from the north like it hasn't blown before on this trip. I've never ridden in wind like this and never experienced having to struggle to stay balanced in the blasts. By the time I finished 64 km my shoulders were sore from working the handlebars, forcing the un-aero bike upright, like wrestling a bad weather helm on a broad reach.
It wasn't all awful. My destination was, luckily, to the southwest of Huron, just a series of long zigzags on the secondary roads and highways that run north and south. So, the zigs, heading south, were cycling ecstacy; set the spinnaker and sing along with Jimmy Buffet. But on the zags, with a hard crosswind and angry gusts, I was all over the road, worried about traffic and tipping.
The plan was to camp in the town public campsite. My finest magic trick so far on this trip was this afternoon, when I turned into a cheap motel. Today is an example of why a credit card is the best piece of equipment to bring on a bicycle tour.
The highlight of the day, after ducking in out of the wind at the Red Hog Saloon in Alpena, was a lunch of several things that I had never heard of before coming to South Dakota. The lunch basket special was chislic (the official State of South Dakota "nosh"), deep-fried cheese curds, and Mello Yello. Ya gotta come up here, ride around and eat in local spots off the main roads to find out what they are for yourself.
The Saloon is just across the road from the Jack Link's meat processing plant, where they manufacture all sorts of expensive tiny packaged jerky products and beef sticks. But in the convenience store, adjacent to the restaurant, next to the bar, they sell 1.5 lb off-market vacuum-sealed packages of high quality jerky from the plant to the locals for $15 a bag. What a deal! That jerky will keep unrefrigerated in my panniers for dinners up the road when small towns are less frequent.
Tomorrow I cross the Missouri River.
