What can one say about riding 117 miles through South Dakota? Lots of wheat, lots of cattle, a lot more beautiful than I had imagined. The first 56 miles went by easily-- lots of "rollers" but nothing daunting. A nice strong wind from the north and since we were heading east the wind just cooled us off. At mile 56 Route 14 took a turn to the north and the s**t hit the fan. Suddenly we were struggling against a strong and pretty steady gale of wind that held our speed down to less than 10 mph. We had 21 miles to go before turning east again.
Most riders work in pacelines, particularly when the going is hard, but for me the stress of staying in a paceline is worse than the stress of going it alone. John had waited for me at the turn and we both headed into the wind with about six other riders. I stayed with them for a few miles but soon gave up and carried on alone. In the meantime the grasshopper experience we encountered the day before entered a new and more ghastly phase. There were many more of them-- so many dead on the road that it was discolored with their bodies but millions more still alive. Each time they hopped the strong wind picked them up and whipped them around so that my body and bike were pelted with grasshoppers. One even hit me square on the nose, but my worst fear, that one would get into my mouth, was never realized.
When we turned east again at mile 77 I was so pleased to be out of the headwind that the remaining 40 miles didn't look so bad. I rode in to Pierre after 9.5 hours of riding-- two hours faster than I did the 117 miles to John Day in Oregon. When we crossed the Missouri River into Pierre we changed time zones again so suddenly it was dinner time and immediately to bed.
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