Devil's Lake, ND

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.

--

The howling wind woke us earlier than we would have wanted, but there we were. We had to dismantle the tent immediately, as the thing would have blown to Canada without our combined body weight to hold it down.

We snacked on the remainder of our food, hoping desperately to find a town large enough to restock our virtually depleted supply. Devil's Lake loomed just about 80 miles away, a long ride considering the whipping wind, and Paul's further diminished health. If any day of our trip was going to kill us, it was this one.

We rolled out looking for food, and as Paul announced, a doctor. Our first sign of civilization was a town called Petersburg, which was disturbingly empty. Everything was closed down, shut down, and boarded up. A man gave us a heads-up on a doctor, miles away in a town caled Michigan.

We rode out again as we had so many times before, rolling west. The wind ravaged our bodies and bikes and made everything very difficult. Bridges posed a very real risk - we were literally in danger of being blown off of any one of them.

A man pulled off in a truck, delivering a warning. Storms and tornadoes were ahead; also chasing us from behind. We had an hour, maybe two, to get ourselves safe; and at the rate we were moving, Devil's Lake was another nine hours away. This was North Dakota.

We found Michigan and rolled into a town that was little more than a strip with a few buildings on it. One of these was a doctor's office. It had to be our first stop.

The place turned us away, saying they didn't have the technology to diagnose a sick person. This was not the best kind of news, but left us wondering what sorts of technology they had to treat a sick person could they have identified them.

Continuing to Devil's Lake at this rate was foolhardy; setting up camp in the tornadoes along the way would have been even moreso. I'm not sure how we got to this point, but hitch hiking quickly became our best option. We tooled over for a gas station breakfast and hoped for the best.

--

Jim was the kind of nice guy who liked to curse at cyclists who'd managed to get themselves into a mess like this. His advice: Get well and get the hell out of North Dakota. After a few more well-meaning barbs, we wound up at an emergency room in Devil's Lake, ND.

The doctor spent several hours with Paul, while I spent several hours with All My Children. The people at the hospital were extraordinarily kind, lending whatever aid they could. Eventually the diagnosis was extreme dehydration - Paul was in worse shape than either of us imagined. The doctor advised us to halt our journey as immediately as was possible. The hospital shuttled us over to a hotel in a van, just as soon as Paul had taken his sixth bag of IV fluid.

--

Paul decided that Chinese food sounded good. The check-in attendant at the hotel loaned us her car - another bit of unexpected kindness - so that we could get into town. The Chinese buffet was just about what you'd expect from a Chinese buffet in a town like this. It was gross, and it wasn't quite what the doctor would have ordered for my sick compatriot.

Our bike trip ended there as much of it had already been. We laid in a foreign bed and watched our nation lead the charge in another medal round in a place around the globe.

--

Within 36 hours I was home in South Bend; strangely tanned, oddly lean, and somehow different than I'd been before. My life became a new thing and an old thing altogether; soon enough I'd find employment and engagement and all of those other things.

Then, within a day or two, it was as if it hadn't happened. Only the memories and pictures, and even now; a few lingering tan lines remain.