Erskine, MN

Last summer, I rode a bicycle from Chicago, IL to Devil's Lake, ND. Since I've never written about the adventure, and since it was a long December as far as temperatures went, I thought January might be a good time to talk about summer 2008. January is Bike Month at the Drawing Board.

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I want you to know that I just spent 40 minutes on Google Maps trying to figure out which town we stayed in next. This was the part of the trip that really just started to run together; days in nowhere began to blend together like oatmeal that's been cooked with too much water.

And yes, all of this is an attempt to finish off bike month in less than 60 days.

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Good gravy, what is there to say about Erskine? Not much that I can tell, so let's start about 60 miles away. We left Bemidji as late as our hotel would allow check out. I spilled coffee on my very favorite shirt, threw the thing away, and like that, I was out of casual clothes that didn't zip up.

We rode west along US 2, through farmlands and small town USA. Each town gave us an opportunity to stop for a minute to pick up a drink and each town offered roughly the same amenities. We'd become all-too accustomed to lounging in the gas station the way we would a Starbucks; this was amplified when the place featured a Subway.

Our breaks are the only thing I can remember. The roads were flat and easy and the winds hadn't picked up the way they would in a few days. Our last stop came in the town of Erskine, MN. We searched desperately for a little bit of help. The churches were locked up and the town was too quiet to provide any assistance. We ate dinner at one of those places that aspires to be a crappy diner but falls woefully short. That's where things start to get interesting.

We were approached by a woman who had noticed our unique matching jerseys. Bright orange, they were emblazoned with the words BIKERS FOR JESUS, a leftover gift from our friends back home. Anyway, she saw the things and wanted to talk to us.

She told us her life story - how she'd come here from California. She told us of her struggles and her victories over drugs. But most of all, she told us that the town of Erskine was infested with demons. She told us that the town of Erskine was the home of the anti-Christ. She told us the story of a local pornographer who claimed to be the devil incarnate. He could control minds through the television. In fact, he would probably be coming for us; that night. Her advice was to ride out and to ride fast.

But we were tired and brave so we thre up our tent and hung our jerseys like flags in the wind. The night passed without incident. The devil was scared.