To Custer and Forsyth
We didn’t want to deal with that horrid bridge that we crossed yesterday and were thrilled to find that there was a bike path not too far from our hotel. We opted for a longer route because we were worried about having to make a left exit off the interstate. It seemed like a very undesirable option even though it would save us a few miles.
Our ride was mostly a pleasant one until we joined I-94. Well, it wasn’t exactly unpleasant, but the climbs began again, each one a bit more challenging that the previous one. We had considered getting off the interstate for awhile and taking a side road, but that looked even worse that what we were doing. We convinced ourselves that the grades on the Interstate would be less steep than those on an old road.
We knew that we would be staying in another trailer motel tonight, but that was fine with us. At least, it was a place to stay. Custer, the location of the motel definitely rates as the smelliest town we have visited. It seems that there are many feed lots nearby.
The next day we got an early start to Forsyth. The Hysham Hill was just outside of Custer. Little did we know that that one hill would turn into many. We did some serious climbing again today. This may have been one of our most intense days of climbing. I hated going down at all because it just meant that we would climb again and again and again.
It seems that the day either starts or ends with a climb, or does both. This was the case with entering Forsyth, a friendly town with a picturesque courthouse. We were not looking forward to an upcoming ride of 80 miles with basically no services and totally decided against it when a local suggested a longer, but less desolate route. It would add a day or two to our itinerary, but we were really in no hurry to get anywhere. Besides, we didn’t know when we would get to this area again.
The scenery in this area was spectacularly desert-like with many buttes thrown in for good measure. The trees had once again disappeared and I thought of this as a typical cowboy landscape. How different it is from the other end of the state near Glacier Park and Missoula, places that were quickly becoming distant memories.