Day 37 St Malo Manitoba to Warroad Minnesota

It was another 100 mile day into a headwind - southeastern winds seem to be normal now - and this day had the added
bonus of large biting flies that kept me company most of the eight hours I was riding. It started and ended well enough, but
in the middle there was a time where I was riding into the wind, with half a dozen flies circling me, in smoky air that hurt my
throat, with no services for 30 miles and no way to stop to rest without getting eaten by the flies. I was not a happy bicycle
tourist!

My night at the St Malo Motor Lodge went well, although the motor cyclists next door did crank up their Harley's at 7:15
AM, and I had a good breakfast there before leaving about 8:30. I asked about routes and was told 'the 403 is the best way
to go to Warroad.' so I headed north out of town to take MB 403 east. This morning while eating breakfast and listening to
conversations which I couldn't understand, and, a little later, while riding through town, it was very obvious that St Malo is
a French town. Last night I noticed that the town's skyline  was dominated by the twin steeple of a church. This morning I
rode by that church and by a number of public building that would be right at home in Quebec. A pretty town!

I rode east - slightly uphill and into a headwind, on MB 403 till it intersected MB 216. Then MB 403 became gravel with
sand that I couldn't ride. I turned back and headed south on MB 216. A mile later, looking at the map as I rode, "Wait a
minute, I can go north for half a dozen miles and take MB 205 over to MB 12!". That looked like a better route, so I turned
around and head north. For six miles or so, I had a tail wind! I'd just added a dozen miles to my day, but that was still better
than heading south and riding MB 59. Plus, it turned out that Sarto, a little town on MB 205, has a general store where I got
a snack. There are very few services in the first sixty miles of this ride! That general store and a restaurant 15 miles later are
the only services. While in Sarto, I also visited with several nice people and photographed an interesting Ukranian Orthodox
Church.

When I finally got to MB 12, seven miles north of MB 403, it was OK riding, much better than MB 59 which was my other
option. There was a small shoulder for a while, but, after that ended, I found that I was better off without it. With the
shoulder, I got wind blasted - there is a head/cross wind at this point - by trucks that passed me in, or almost in, the lane.
Without the shoulder, vehicles did not pass me in the lane, but went completely into the other lane, which made riding much
more pleasant. Traffic was light enough that riding without a shoulder was not a problem. After about thirty miles, I came to
a restaurant at Zhoda. There are only a few building in Zhoda, and it is 30 more miles to the next services at Piney, so I was
delighted to find Barry's Restaurant. My ride today would have been much harder without the large fish and chips dinner I
ate at Barry's!

A few miles after Barry's, riding along with only obnoxious flies for company, I passed two guys riding mountain bikes
going in the other direction. We said hello and I wondered where these 'local' riders were riding from. Then, a few minutes
later, I  passed a few more riders - hmm, it must be an organized ride - and, not too much further down the road, I saw a
support stop setup with maybe a dozen riders getting snacks. I pulled over to visit and was told that this was a Habitat for
Humanity ride from Kansas City to Winnipeg. There were almost home on their two week ride. I ran into another Habitat
ride in Pierre SD two years ago. They seem to be an effective fund raising tool for Habitat. There were a wide variety of
riders and they all seemed to be having a good time. Of course THEY had a tailwind! The riders did create a bit of a traffic
problem since drivers had to pass  groups of four or five riders, and the groups were strung out for several miles. The
slowest group was followed by two sag vehicles, one with a bike trailer carrying half a dozen bikes. From there, my day
went downhill. 

The big problem was those damn flies. When I tried to stop to rest and snack, they made my life very unpleasant, so I ended
up taking several short breaks rather than one longer one. Those short breaks consisted stopping just long enough to drink
some Coke and, in one case, dig out a cookie to eat while I rode. I didn't get off the bike until I reached Piney, a very small
town some 30 miles southeast of Zhoda. About 15 miles before Piney, I started noticing smoke in the air. By Piney, it was
thick and my troat was sore from breathing it.

Piney is a mile or so off of MB 12, on a road that goes south. The smoke seemed to be blown in from the south by my
headwind. When I actually got to the Piney Hotel there was a phone, a Pub, and a restaurant. Not a fancy place, but they
were very nice and fixed me a good second lunch. That, and several cups of coffee, got me ready to head out into the wind,
with the flies, and the smoke.  Oh yeah, I asked about the smoke and was told it came from controlled burning of grassland
in Minnesota. 

When I left Piney, the south wind had died down and the air was clear! I picked up my contingent of flies as soon as I got
back on MB 12  - often there would be half a dozen flies accompanying me - but without the headwind and the smoke,
riding was much improved. I still had forty miles to go to Warroad, but now it would take three hours of riding instead of
four. Since I was pushing myself near my limits, that was a big improvement.

I was exhausted by the time I reached the border, about 7:15 PM, but the customs fellow was reasonable and I got back into
the US with minimal questioning. Then I had six miles of smooth flat road with a shoulder to ride to Warroad, but I still
needed to  stop and drink the last of my coke as a stimulant before I rode into town. A hard day, and one that makes me
wonder about my plan to ride from International Falls to Thunder Bay. I'm not sure I can handle two days of 100+ miles
riding with those flies with no way to get away from them for a rest.