2 September - Kalispell, MT

A word on roads. Out of the three states I have bicycled in, Washington appears to be the only one with an enlightened road-making policy. Here in Montana, US highway 2 has for the most part a nonexistent or nearly unusable shoulder. In Idaho this was fine, as I was mostly on side roads with little traffic and almost no trucks. But today I took my life in my hands coming on the highway. The drivers of these logging and gravel trucks wouldn’t slow down for their grandmothers and barrel past me at 70+ mph with only half a foot to spare between me and their incomprehensibly large momentum. I have to slow down to avoid being blown off the road by the massive gusts of air they trail behind them. Some car drivers are no better but seem safe by comparison. Some even honk at me for claiming my measly 1/3 of a lane. I thought up a number of suitable curses for them as I pedaled along. So while my mileage was short, the poor weather and execrable biking conditions made today seem far longer than the 3:35 spent pedaling. A man from Fresno and his very drunk wife did offer to drive me in to Kalispell when the rain was particularly bad. I am staying in Aero Inn for very cheaply and greatly appreciate the bed and roof.

I bought a copy of Augustine’s Confessions back in Sandpoint. So far it is interesting but I fear I am not reading it right. Actually I fear I read anything quite right, having been schooled on TV, and books that tell the reader what to think and feel. Even on a second reading most books fall sway to my lust for information. And, as the Misfit Manifesto goes, Information is meaningless.

Speaking of which, that is the only point I’m really solid about. The others, if I remember them, are: you are your sight, and fall hard. Perhaps they are not so bad after all.

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