The bikes were surrounded by puddles of water this morning, they survived a huge storm. It was nice that we were not riding in it!!
Crossing the Red River into North Dakota we rode thru Grand Forks following highway 2, into a misty morning. The water was running off the windshield, visibility was limited but it wasn't raining!
You could smell the fields of sunflowers long before you could see them. We pulled over on the highway for a photo, on my way to the field I got two soaked feet going thru the ditch, I hate wet boots.
Highway 2 runs thru farm lands and ranches, crops of ripe grains, hay bales, and closer to Minot oil rigs. West of Minot we turned North West on Highway 52 to the Portal border crossing. The terrain was varied with rolling hills, lakes and fields with beef cattle grazing with the calves.
Near Kenmare the hills on either side of the highway had the year of the different grad classes written with white rocks on the hills.
I finally got one of the train engineers to blow the horn for me.
We rode into Weyburn escorted by a rain storm, we couldn't see and pulled into a parking lot, only to find it was slippery gumbo.
We stopped and immediately sunk into the goo, my boots had 2 inches stuck to the soles. We waited for the rain to stop and then searched for puddles to wash off the grey mess.
Crossing the Red River into North Dakota we rode thru Grand Forks following highway 2, into a misty morning. The water was running off the windshield, visibility was limited but it wasn't raining!
You could smell the fields of sunflowers long before you could see them. We pulled over on the highway for a photo, on my way to the field I got two soaked feet going thru the ditch, I hate wet boots.
Highway 2 runs thru farm lands and ranches, crops of ripe grains, hay bales, and closer to Minot oil rigs. West of Minot we turned North West on Highway 52 to the Portal border crossing. The terrain was varied with rolling hills, lakes and fields with beef cattle grazing with the calves.
Near Kenmare the hills on either side of the highway had the year of the different grad classes written with white rocks on the hills.
I finally got one of the train engineers to blow the horn for me.
We rode into Weyburn escorted by a rain storm, we couldn't see and pulled into a parking lot, only to find it was slippery gumbo.
We stopped and immediately sunk into the goo, my boots had 2 inches stuck to the soles. We waited for the rain to stop and then searched for puddles to wash off the grey mess.
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