I know you’re going to want to hear all about my 50-mile ride today (Thursday, 5-23), but before I get to that I thought you might be wondering how the town where I stayed last night, Glen Ullin (pop. 807), got its name. Thanks to some quick Internet research, I learned that the town was christened by Major Alvan Bovay, a Northern Pacific land agent at the time the town was founded in 1883. He picked the name “Glen” from the Scottish Gaelic word for “valley,” since the town is located in a valley. “Ullin” was derived from Lord Ullin’s Daughter, a sad poem by Thomas Campbell about a botched attempt by a Scottish chieftain to elope with a nobleman’s daughter.

OK, so now on to the bike ride. I was on my way by 8 a.m., when it was only 48 degrees, but eventually it got up to 60 degrees or so. I had on four layers of bike jerseys at the start of my ride. As it warmed up, I eventually de-layered to only one, but then needed to re-layer to three as it got overcast and quite blustery this afternoon, with winds of 20-35 mph. Thankfully, the wind was coming from the northeast, and was mostly a tailwind rather than a headwind–I got lucky there! I was also fortunate to avoid the rainstorm that broke out about an hour after I arrived at my hotel around 4 p.m. Late this morning, I crossed the county line between Morton and Stark counties, which meant that I was now in the Mountain Time Zone and had picked up an extra hour.

My Chief Navigator Trudi was quite worried about what I would do around six miles into my ride when I would get to a place where the road I was on, Hwy. 139, was closed as an overpass for Interstate 94 is being rebuilt. The new overpass isn’t due to be finished until October. There was a story posted online earlier this year by a biker who claims to have found a “sneaky” way to eliminate the humongous detour needed to avoid this road closure–by waiting for a break in traffic on the interstate and running across the freeway. I figured the best way for me to strategize about solving this problem was to confront it face-to-face.

So I did. Thankfully, I managed to solve the problem with a little help from my new best friend Dale (the guy with the sandwich on the right). Dale gave me an enthusiastic fist-bump when he learned about my cross-country journey and personally escorted me through the overpass construction zone, where there were four construction cranes and pile-drivers ramming new pilings for the overpass 190 feet into the ground. Behind the photo of Dale and his colleague, you can see a completed portion of the overpass, which Dale referred to as a “work of art.”

These are the pilings being pounded into the ground. There was a lot of activity in the construction area, and the noise of the pile-drivers was quite loud. I didn’t get a chance to count them, but there appeared to be 30-40 workers at the site.

Not long after getting through the construction zone, I was once again surrounded by peaceful farms and ranches. Many of the herds of cattle I’ve seen are all one color, usually dark brown, but I counted four colors in this herd, which I thought was interesting.

I took a slight detour off Hwy 139 around 10 a.m. to visit the Dark Side of the Brew Coffee Shop in Hebron, N.D. (pop. 747), where I had a dark roast (of course) and a maple scone. The shop’s motto is “Embrace Your Dark Side.”

The signs welcoming folks to the towns I passed through today all appear to have similar western themes–covered wagons and cattle are frequent motifs. Here are the signs for Hebron, Richardton (pop. 529), and Taylor (pop. 148).

I stopped to eat in Richardton, where I was the first lunch customer of the day at the El Noa Noa Mexican restaurant. I had a nice chat with Roberto, originally from Mexico City, who has operated the restaurant for the past two years.

Roberto gave me a menu that he said was their temporary menu while new menus are being printed. It was getting to be quite chilly and windy outside, and one of the restaurant’s specialties appeared to be a hearty soup called menudo. Roberto said it was quite good and had hominy in it, and I decided to give it a try.

Here is a photo of a large bowl of menudo just after it arrived at my table.

As I tucked in to the bowl of soup, I was a bit confused by the odd consistency of what I gathered was the meat in the soup. It reminded me of thick pieces of turkey skin. I was also a bit put off by the taste of this meat, which had sort of a gamey bovine flavor.

I decided to Google the name of the soup, and learned that it is made from tripe, the edible lining from the stomachs of cows or other farm animals. Tripe has been a popular, cheap, and nutritious dish worldwide for centuries, but in western nations the number of tripe eaters has dramatically declined. Although tripe is still eaten in many parts of the world and is used in a wide variety of recipes for hearty soups and stews, it is no longer so familiar to the western palate, and in western nations is often used in pet food.

After learning more about my soup, I wasn’t so keen on eating the mysterious “meat” in it, but I did polish off most of the broth and hominy. Before serving the soup, Roberto had brought me a serving of guacamole and chips, and I complimented him on them–it was some of the best guacamole I’ve ever had. He was also interested in knowing how I liked the menudo. I told Roberto it was good, but it was a large bowl, and I was quite full and anxious to get back to my bike. Here is a photo of my soup bowl when I was done.

The name of the restaurant El Noa Noa comes from a 1980 country rock song by that name by Mexican balladeer Juan Gabriel. The song tells the story of a magical dancehall the singer visited in Ciudad Juarez, where everyone and everything was different, and where you could dance happily through the night. I would go back to El Noa Noa, but next time, I think I’ll order the tacos.