Trains don't use cabooses anymore; this one was in a park
“The moon and sun are eternal travelers. Even the years wander on. A life time adrift in a boat, or in old age leading a tired horse into the years, every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.”
— BashÅ, The Narrow Road to the Interior
Across the grain
The terrain continued to be rolling grass and farm land. But it was if I was riding across the grain of a piece of timber – always rolling up or down. The wind was the lightest it’s been in ages and was generally behind me. About 15 miles outside of Bismarck I ran into two fellow tourons riding west from Chicago. They’d been suffering against the days of headwinds. I suggested to them that they had weeks more of that to look forward to. This makes it maybe ten east to west tourons I’ve seen – nearing a mid-route meet up it seems. Shortly after that I was on a bicycle path that took me all the way into Bismarck. The North Dakota Capitol and the largest city to date. Finally taking a much needed day off.
Thinking, this day, of my childhood home —
my home now is the road