Glasgow - Poplar, Montana
July 23

I went to bed around 8:20 PM, so was up early. I worked on yesterday's update and attempted to upload it through my new EarthLink 800 number account, but, though I got connected to EarthLink, I couldn't connect through EarthLink to Voyager (to do the upload) or to anybody else. Fetch, Netscape and Eudora all failed to work because EarthLink's line must have been down. I gave up and went to breakfast (just one meal today, plus extra toast). EarthLink's problems were not fixed by the time I got back from breakfast, so I decided to get going.

I got on my merry way around 10:00. I stopped about 1/2 mile from town at a convenience store to buy Gatorade. Then stopped about 1/2 mile later to apply sunscreen (I'd forgotten).

It was a real tough day. The winds were supposed to be from the northwest, but, I was going northeast and they were 90 degrees to me from the left almost all day long. I averaged only 12.7 mph for the day, and most significantly, worked very hard to average that. There were no shoulders all day. While the drivers were more courteous today than previous days in Montana, I was still scared to death and the occasional vehicle did come too close to me and nearly blow me off the road. Fear caused me to grip the handlebars for all I was worth and the muscles in my arms and hands started to cramp up through the day. It was NOT fun today; it is best that it is over and I reached my destination.

I took only a couple of pictures. There was nothing outstanding to photograph.

I stopped for lunch at Frazer. I first went across the railroad tracks into the Indian town, where I stopped at the store and was told that there was no restaurant in town, but that "a guy" on the highway had a little place that was popular with the highway department folks and I could get a hamburger there. I talked for a few minutes with the Indians who ran the store. They told me that they were Assiniboine Sioux; that the Sioux had come here over 100 years ago from further north and asked if they could stay for the Spring, but they never left. Talk about overstaying your welcome! An interesting history lesson.

Note 1/96: On August 8, 1996, I received quite a response via e-mail to what I just said (I've deleted the name and e-mail address to protect the writer's privacy and I've left the typos as is):

I am an Yanktonia Sioux from the Medicine Bear Band. Our clan in from the Ft. Kipp area which is on the East side of the reservation. Sure we might have problems but we will survive. I am writing to you about a person statement of who came to the reservation and STAYED! The Assinboine Indians came to the Ft. Peck Reservation for food and shelter. They were a wandering band of Indians with no place to go. My Great-Great Grandfather Chief Medicine Bear signed a documents with the U.S. to let the Assinboine stay on the reservation. In return the Assinboine Indians were suppose to pay the Sioux back with what ever payment they can make for the supplies the Sioux gave them. They are a bunch of greety Indian who never paid the Sioux's back and to make things worst they tried claim the reservation as there own. My ancester sign a paper because he saw how pitiful the Assinboines were. And now they take what can and never give in return. A couple of years ago a Tribal Chairman was an Assinboine for the first time on this reservation. And when they have meetings in Washington D.C., the chairman was trying to get the name change and land of the reservation to Assinboines. This was dicovered later or they also want to break the reservation in half to make it two reservation. My family has the original documents in a vault. The Assinboine's claim that they had or have paper but never show them as proof. So you see, this is a big issue to us Siouxs and if you would like to print what one Assinboine, you should get the facts first before printing.

From the townsite of Frazer, I rode back out to the highway and the "funkiest" little drive-in restaurant I've ever eaten at: E&L Drive-In.


E&L Drive-In, Frazer, MT

The place was a shack. There was this elderly man there, who you talked to through a 12" square hole in a storefront covered with rusty steel grating.


E&L Drive-In, Frazer, MT (note opening on the lower right)

You couldn't really see him and you couldn't see where the food was coming from. If I hadn't seen some highway department workers eating in their vehicles in front of the place when I got there, I don't think I would have ordered anything myself. I ordered a hamburger and a Pepsi; I was afraid to order more. It tasted okay--so I think I'll live--and it came to only $1.90, but, what a strange place.

I stopped whenever I could, but there were few "towns" and no rest areas. A couple miles east of Frazer, I came upon an Indian man walking toward me on the opposite side of the road. I yelled "hi" to him and he looked directly at me but didn't respond. He seemed to be looking through me, ignoring me. I was surprised to see somebody coming from the east on foot--the nearest town was several miles east and there wasn't any structure in sight in any direction. I was thinking of offering him one of my water bottles as he was certain to be thirsty out there in the open sun, but when he refused to acknowledge my existence, I just kept going.

As we live our Walter Mitty lives, we are imprisoned in little boxes. Most folks merely get up in the morning, go to work, come home, watch TV, go to bed, and repeat the cycle. They don't see the world. They don't interact with folks from other cultures. I have truly enjoyed meeting folks from different cultures on this trip; everything from the American Indians I've talked to (or been shunned by), to the couple from Paris I had dinner with, or the folks I met from Brazil, Japan, England, Germany, Holland, Australia, New Zealand, etc. They expanded my horizon immensely. Americans need to take off, get away from their jobs, meet the people of the world and see the world. If not, they can't have any perspective; they can't know where this country and our culture fits in the scheme of things.


Back to the road. For a couple of days, I've been seeing small cacti similar to the cactus we have at home growing on our windowsill. So, this is where those things live in nature; not just in the desert.

At Wolf Point, a town with McDonalds and all services, I stopped at a convenience store to use the bathroom and bought another Gatorade. A couple of miles east of Wolf Point, I found another example of why I was struggling so: a sign pointed to Windy Hill.


Sign pointing to Windy Hill

This area must be known for bad wind. This wind was among the worst of the trip. It wasn't right in my face, but it might as well have been for what it did to me. I was frequently nearly blown off the road or into vehicles by the gusts and vehicle wind turbulence. As I stopped to take the picture of the Windy Hill sign, I was nearly blown over standing still--the bike actually started to fall as I was straddling it standing still. I felt incredibly frustrated and scared that I was going to lose control of the bike and get into an accident.

Between Wolf Point and Poplar, I saw several odd discards along the road: a child's metal car, a woman's purse, a dream catcher ornament, a nicely stitched child's ball cap and some childrens' clothing items. I decided to tell the police of my sightings. After weeks on the road, I had some idea what was "normal" on in the way of litter. They weren't the sorts of things I normally saw along the road and I was concerned that they might indicate foul play.

As I was thinking about telling the police, a Highway Patrol car went by, but I was too slow reacting to flag him down. Then, by the time I got to Poplar, I'd forgotten that I wanted to. I've talked about my 2 minute train of thought before; until I refreshed my recollection with my tape recorded observation, my intent to call the police dropped out of my mind. My short term memory is awful. I did eventually report what I saw to the BIA (Bureau of Indian Affairs) Police (the local law enforcement agency). They said they'd look into it, but they didn't seem very enthusiastic. [At that time I wasn't aware of the fact that I was in one of North America's crime capitals.]

There is only one motel in Poplar, the old but clean and well-maintained: Lee Anns Motel: $25/night.

71 miles.



Montana

 

 
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© Ed Noonan 1996, 1997