CHASING THE TRAINS
The Adventure Cycling maps say that the cyclist's most frequent companion on the ride across the HI LINE is the railroad and the trains of the Burlington Northern Santa Fe line. And, I see dozens every day. Plus two AMTRAK trains---the Empire Builder going West and the Empire Builder heading East. I wave at every train that passes, and sometimes the BNSF conductor will blow his horn at me, but so far I've got a 100% response rate with AMTRAK. Every single train has whistled at me, and I wave at all the cars as they pass in case a passenger is looking out the window. The EMPIRE BUILDER stops in St Cloud, about 8 blocks from my house--and once a day I imagine throwing my bike aboard and crawling off in St Cloud at 4 am when it burns through my town. But I don't.
I'm in Havre today, enjoying a layover day off the bike. I went to the Railroad Museum this morning and studied an exhibit on SLANGUAGE of the rails, and remember that RIDING 'EM HIGH means to ride on TOP of the rail cars. RIDING THE CUSHIONS means to pay the fare and sit in the passenger section. RIDING THE RAILS means to steal a free ride, jumping on the car from the rails. Riding the cushions would be my only option!
We had a tough ride into town yesterday from Chester. It was about 65 miles into a headwind--with storms everywhere. We ate TWICE at Spuds in Chester, dinner was so good we came back for breakfast, although the waitress the night before told us NOT to sit at the two tables that the coffee drinkers occupy at 7am. SPUDS is the kind of place where Kami and I were a curiosity. When we opened the door, the place fell entirely silent, as all eyes were on us. In a town of 700, they notice when strangers in bike gear appear. I chatted up the 4 elderly folks near the door, and as soon as they knew we were just passing through on our bikes, all was well. They told me that they were headed to GLASGOW on the HI LINE yesterday, and sure enough, they passed us 18 miles out of town and tooted their horn, just as they had promised the night before. Spuds has good pie. Last night we ate here in Havre, and Kami had to change her motto which USED to be "YOU CAN NEVER GO WRONG WITH NACHOS". Apparently, you can.
About 40 miles out of Chester, I was outside a bar drinking a diet dr. pepper when this man walked up and said, "You're making some miles today" and I non-committedly agreed. Then he said, "I seen you outside of Chester this morning" and I said, "Was I getting wet?" and he said, "You was getting pretty wet you were" and I laughed. It has rained every day in MT! And I commented to the guy..."I thought the wind was supposed to blow from West to East in Montana" and he replied, "It used to." A typical Montana conversation for me.
Last tale for the day. We stopped for lunch in a "town" called Guildford, where there is one bar, and it serves food. Our map had a "knife and fork" symbol by this town, so we knew there had to be food somewhere. We walked into the bar, hot and tired, to be greeted by the only soul in the joint-- JOEY PATRICK CARR, who asked us "what are you girls drinking?" Kami rolled her eyes, but I went ahead and ordered 2 diet cokes and 2 waters. As he was pulling the drinks, his mom came out and took our order for grilled cheese sandwiches. JOEY is five years old! He bopped around our table, telling me about his canary CLYDE and his general life there in Guildford. After about 15 minutes of conversation, Joey looked sadly at Kami, then me, and proclaimed, with a slight inflection of concern, "She can't talk?". I assured him she *could* talk, but was saving her voice for later. Joey made quite a scene, tending bar in rural Montana. Some days are harder on the bike than others, but they're all good days. We're headed to Harlem Montana tomorrow---
I'm in Havre today, enjoying a layover day off the bike. I went to the Railroad Museum this morning and studied an exhibit on SLANGUAGE of the rails, and remember that RIDING 'EM HIGH means to ride on TOP of the rail cars. RIDING THE CUSHIONS means to pay the fare and sit in the passenger section. RIDING THE RAILS means to steal a free ride, jumping on the car from the rails. Riding the cushions would be my only option!
We had a tough ride into town yesterday from Chester. It was about 65 miles into a headwind--with storms everywhere. We ate TWICE at Spuds in Chester, dinner was so good we came back for breakfast, although the waitress the night before told us NOT to sit at the two tables that the coffee drinkers occupy at 7am. SPUDS is the kind of place where Kami and I were a curiosity. When we opened the door, the place fell entirely silent, as all eyes were on us. In a town of 700, they notice when strangers in bike gear appear. I chatted up the 4 elderly folks near the door, and as soon as they knew we were just passing through on our bikes, all was well. They told me that they were headed to GLASGOW on the HI LINE yesterday, and sure enough, they passed us 18 miles out of town and tooted their horn, just as they had promised the night before. Spuds has good pie. Last night we ate here in Havre, and Kami had to change her motto which USED to be "YOU CAN NEVER GO WRONG WITH NACHOS". Apparently, you can.
About 40 miles out of Chester, I was outside a bar drinking a diet dr. pepper when this man walked up and said, "You're making some miles today" and I non-committedly agreed. Then he said, "I seen you outside of Chester this morning" and I said, "Was I getting wet?" and he said, "You was getting pretty wet you were" and I laughed. It has rained every day in MT! And I commented to the guy..."I thought the wind was supposed to blow from West to East in Montana" and he replied, "It used to." A typical Montana conversation for me.
Last tale for the day. We stopped for lunch in a "town" called Guildford, where there is one bar, and it serves food. Our map had a "knife and fork" symbol by this town, so we knew there had to be food somewhere. We walked into the bar, hot and tired, to be greeted by the only soul in the joint-- JOEY PATRICK CARR, who asked us "what are you girls drinking?" Kami rolled her eyes, but I went ahead and ordered 2 diet cokes and 2 waters. As he was pulling the drinks, his mom came out and took our order for grilled cheese sandwiches. JOEY is five years old! He bopped around our table, telling me about his canary CLYDE and his general life there in Guildford. After about 15 minutes of conversation, Joey looked sadly at Kami, then me, and proclaimed, with a slight inflection of concern, "She can't talk?". I assured him she *could* talk, but was saving her voice for later. Joey made quite a scene, tending bar in rural Montana. Some days are harder on the bike than others, but they're all good days. We're headed to Harlem Montana tomorrow---
posted by Laurel @ 1:47 PM
<< Home