Day 18
   
   5/15/01
   Mile 1902
   Laurel, MT
   
   Usually the wind here blows all day, then calms down at dusk.  About
   midnight, it unexpectedly started again, quite hard, whipping the tent
   fabric, and causing the entire structure to bend and wobble.  The
   result of this was that I got virtually no sleep.  I also knew that this much
   wind meant it was not going to be a high-mileage day.
   
   And that's how it started out - making very slow progress against the
   wind, but realizing that one mile is better than zero.  It was
   overcast and it was obviously only a matter of time before the rain hit.
   
   For you geology folks out there: I passed Sheep Mountain, which is
   probably the one shown in your Geo 101 textbook under "anticline
   fold", it being a prime example of ridge formed when compressive forces cause
   the earth to be pushed up in a fold.  Also, I don't think a day has passed
   where I didn't see at least one oil well, and most of them had the
   engine on the pumpjack turned up pretty fast.
   
   In this area a white powder called Natron forms in practically every
   depression.  When it does, everything there dies.  It's a leftover
   product from evaporation, mostly sodium carbonate (otherwise known as
   washing soda).
   
   I see many, many bikes on racks on the backs of SUV's and cars here -
   where all they all going?  Other than the two women I saw long ago in
   Eads, I never see anyone out touring like I am.
   
   I crossed the border into Montana and immediately looked up to see if
   this really was "Big Sky Country", but I couldn't tell because there
   was too much of it (sorry!).  Jets leave enormously long contrails,
   stretching nearly to both horizons.
   
   I crossed the Yellowstone River, and noticed how full and
   swift-running it is.  Quite a bit of runoff from the snowpack in the mountains.  In
   Bridger, a few girls in a pickup truck saw me in my bike shorts and
   let out a "Woooo-oooo!"  Being a guy, I'd have to say that has happened me
   in my life both more times than I can count, and never quite often
   enough.
   
   The air is filled with what looks like lint; it's the seeds from
   Cottonwood trees, and it looks like it's snowing.
   Many of the fields here are freshly plowed, or are just sprouting.
   That's the result of the shorter growing season here, as compared to
   the Gulf coast, where the crops were already well along when I left weeks
   ago.  Every day, the sun seems to set about 5 minutes later, as I move
   north, west, and we approach summer solstice, the day I'd like to
   arrive in Alaska.
   
   After 5pm, the wind died down and I pick up speed.  I pulled into a
   campground on the banks of the Yellowstone river, and do my standard
   routine for the night.  Somehow, I'd gotten another 100-miler in, when I
   thought for sure I wouldn't. The day turned out to be not so bad after
   all.

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