The breeze was cool from the west at 10 mph, so most started in additional clothing. Eyes watered, snot ran, the bluster picked up and remained cool, and though we intended to shed some clothes at that stop, most kept them on as they cooled during break.
As the blow gradually built speed it shifted northward and the ride started getting more difficult as we approached the Missouri River. We took a badly needed break before crossing. Lake Francis Case acted as a venturi at highway 44, accelerating air and the force of raw blast buffeted us. Steep hills followed, compounding forces, confounding our effort. Climb we did, onto the top of the prairie where we found a constant 21 mile per hour wind bending grain.
We suffered as it whistled through our helmets; that noise, in addition to the natural sound rushing over ears made it difficult to talk to a rider beside us without yelling. We remained cool, but riders noticed their regular water consumption inadequate, as if we were being force dried. I know my northward nostril became painfully parched, so I opted for a bandanna over my face to conserve moisture. Pace line, kept at a diagonal, was virtually ineffective. It was brutal; riders just started splitting up, each fighting for himself. Moral drops as quickly as our energy under such conditions.
The wind blows constantly over the prairie, and people have been reported to suffer prairie madness, not an actual medical condition but one widely written about during the 19th century pioneer days. We arrived in Winner, South Dakota with our sanity barely intact. We asked our host about this wind that had been beating us all day and threatened to inflict misery on our next day's 104 miles; "The wind blows constantly out here, some days worse than others." We asked if the day was good or bad, and he replied "moderate". We showered, had a big meal provided by Winner Assembly of God Church and hit our mats; men downstairs, women in the sanctuary.
As I write the howl continues here in Martin SD after our 104 miles in it today. In addition we had rain, but not too bad, and hail- that too was minor. Same force wind, but oddly nobody complained, for it came from the east, behind us, aiding in our trek. It was a good ride. Our home is the Martin Community Center.
They Call the Wind Maria; well, over the past two days that is the only name I haven't heard it called. What comes to mind is a poem recited to me in a bar along the Gulf of Mexico after a particularly difficult sail and conflict. I could go on about the internal struggle with what simply is, but this sums it up best:
“One ship drives east and another drives west
With the selfsame winds that blow.
Tis the set of the sails
And not the gales
Which tells us the way to go.
Like the winds of the seas are the ways of fate,
As we voyage along through the life:
Tis the set of a soul
That decides its goal,
And not the calm or the strife. ”
― Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Goodnight. A light 50 miles tomorrow, and if the wind holds, a breeze. If not? What we make of it.
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