The Royce Files

The following is the continuing narrative of my North Dakotan bike tour in early July. I stuck around the Sibley Crossing Campground long enough to shower. It was Sunday. A slow day for some. The beach was littered with debris from last night's fun. You could have made a bonfire from it. After the cleaning ritual and packing I set out across Ashtabula. A paper handbill stuck out to me at the campground office the other night. It was for a restaurant that offered a Sunday brunch. The establishment, Kelly's Crossing, was on the other side of the lake at the east crossing. Hunger drove me to take the shortest route on gravel through the wind farm in the late morning heat. The wind turbines seemed to go on for miles. That morning only a few the giants were turning. Because of the emptiness of the range, the wind farm resembled something from a post apocalyptic novel. I was peering upon the last energy reserves of a once great society. Alas, that's not true. The jaunt through t...

The following in the continuing narrative of my solo bike tour in North Dakota in early July. It was July 4th. It never seems special anymore since I am usually on the road to somewhere. Well, last year I was actually at a celebration at a friend's homestead. I even met up with a rock star that evening. Today I met a motor cycle couple from Iowa. They had pitched camp next to me at the campground. We talked a little about biking. They mentioned RAGBRAI , a popular (if not legendary) tour in Iowa from the Missouri to Mississippi River. I had read about it a number of years ago in Outside magazine. We also discussed the flooding in Fargo and in Iowa. After chatting I headed to the actual Pioneer Village next to the campground. This collection of old buildings with associated antiques is quaint and free. There was even a building they called "Louis L'Amour Writer's Shack," which featured artifacts from the prolific author's original hovel for writing. If you di...