Since I haven’t figured out how to pack real cream swiping the tiny packages of half and half are important because every morning with the help of a jet boil French press I brew up steaming hot cups of Kaladi Trieste.
We are in Huron again this morning. Going north, where we did to see the mallard put us back here, and that means we will have to again ride highway 14 only this time westbound…
These huge metal silos were destroyed by a tornado a few days before we were east bound on highway 14. I would not want to be around a storm like that…
We need some post boxes to mail home trinkets so we pull into a town whose cemetery is larger than the town.
Young & Old Sandhill Crain's
The post office is across the street from the grain elevator, and next door to a bar. That is just aboot all the town that I can see.Our business done at the post office we roll over to the gas station to use the washroom the fellow behind the counter asks if we were the two parked over by the old bar. News travels fast in this tiny berg.
As we travel west the humidly is less, and the temperature is only just over 70. A perfect day for riding. The corn fields give way to mostly grass and grain. Off to the south some major machines are harvesting, the amber waves of grain…
The thunder clouds that had been threating give to blue sky as we roll into Belle Fourch for the evening.
When Alaska and Hawaii became states, those additions made Belle Fourch the geographic center of the nation. Along the towns river walk is the monument that marks the spot.
I stay to the left of center because everyone should always do right but lean left….