After our harrowing day escaping the Great August 20th Storm of Circle, Montana the night before, and our daring ride to escape it to Glendive, we knew today was going to need to be a major mile munching day. In order to make it to our rendezvous in Sault Ste Marie, Canada on time, we would need to haul the mail down the Interstate today to make it through North Dakota, and a major part of the way through Minnesota, for a distance of 527 miles (848 km), almost entirely on I-94.
We enjoyed the more full selection on-offer for breakfast at our Holiday Inn Express, especially as-compared to the previous night’s Econolodge in Livingston. Actual fruit was available, and in the yogurt they served, amazing!h
We were on the road not long after 9:00am, and immediately pulled onto our home for the day. The miles flew by, as we soon entered North Dakota, a first for me. The weather was mostly overcast, with a strange low-hanging cloud with overcast above making for an eerie sort of appearance in the skies. It was almost constant that we seemed to be chasing the cloudiest portion of the sky that we could see, but the rain stayed away the whole time as we carried on past Theodore Roosevelt state park, and into the Central Time Zone.
Chris called ahead to his friend, Marvin Bohn, in Brainerd, Minnesota, who he’d met at a long-ago BMW MOA National Rally to let him know of our change in plans, and earlier expected arrival. Marvin was gracious in his flexibility and was happy to hear from Chris that we would be there soon, especially since Chris was bringing his “young” friend, in me that might happen to help him out with a project he’d been working on around his property.
Just past the TDR NP, the wind began to pick up from the south, first as a breeze, but increasing to a blustery gale. When already travelling down the interstate at 85 mph, a cross-wind, especially gusting between 15 and 40 mph made for some frustrating and sometimes scary riding, what with all the big trucks and traffic on the highway.
Between all the cool overcast conditions, the gusty, cool wind and the lack of sleep the night before, we stopped off at a truck stop for coffee to both warm up a bit and shake the cobwebs out of our brains. The wind got more and more intense, and as the dry, high-desert landscapes of western North Dakota became greener and dotted with small- to medium-sized ponds, you could see the whitecaps whipped up on them as we passed by. It was at this point I had to explain what a great amount of “type 2 fun” we were having. For those not versed in the three types of fun, here they are:
- Type 1 fun: Normal “fun” that’s an enjoyable activity both as you’re doing it and to think about afterward
- Type 2 fun: Something that’s not really “fun” while you’re doing it, but makes for a good story or life experience when its over
The previous day and this one were proving to be quite rich in type 2 fun!
At our final rest stop before Fargo, Chris noticed something hanging down into my front wheel well. A spacer as part of my front oil cooler guard had worked it’s way loose. I broke out my stash of zip ties, and Chris broke out his Swiss Army knife, and before you knew it, that oil cooler guard spacer was fastened to my bike better than it ever had been before.
We finally arrived into Fargo, and we stopped in for dinner at a Ruby Tuesday’s, which I chose largely from a meme from a podcast I listen to, but ended up being a great choice, since they had an all-you-could eat salad bar, which was great, plus the speed of not having to wait for our orders to be placed got us back on the road in no time.
By the time we finished dinner, the wind had died down, thankfully and on our way out of Fargo, we crossed the Red River into Minnesota, another first-time state for me. Chris and I were starting to feel pretty ragged at this point, so the frequency of breaks increased to about every 40 miles.
The light started to fail as we got into Baxter and then Brainerd, Minnesota. Just a couple miles from Marv’s place, we crossed the Mississippi River, at this point only maybe 30 feet across.
As we pulled off the highway, around 8:45, Marv was waiting for us in his driveway with room cleared out for our two motorcycles to park, right next to his.
As we dismounted our bikes, I handed Marv our two bottles of whiskey from Montana and he welcomed us into his home. Over drinks, Marv and Chris regaled me with stories from MOA trips long ago, with ridiculous escapades aplenty. I learned that Marv had only stopped riding his motorcycle, a BMW R75 RT just last year at 90 years old! I could not believe it. All of us in the SMBC think that Chris Weld is the most veteran rider we know, but he’s 10 years younger than Marvin Bohn! Anyway, the story-telling carried on into the wee hours of the night before we all went to bed, knowing that even the next day was going to be in for a good number of miles as we’d need to make our way toward Michigan’s Upper Peninsula (UP).
Great to see that Marv is still vertical.