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Day 43: Monday, 13th August. Destination: Cyclists Lodging, Page, North Dakota
The only town between Fargo and Page, called Arthur, was a little over half way. There was nothing really for it but to plough on and hope to beat the storm. And that, I’m glad to say, is what happened. I got comfy in a friendly little café as the sky darkened and the rain started to pour. The TV was on the weather channel showing threatening T-storm graphics and so I decided to settle in till the all-clear. By chance, the café was part of a small indoor market which had a 2nd hand bookshop. Excellent timing, as I’d just finished the only book I’d brought with me (The Coronation of Haile Selassie by Evelyn Waugh). Trouble was, 95% of all the books were romance novels, and the remaining 4% about war. It took a while to hunt down the elusive 1% “others” and, in the end, selected The Edible Woman by Margaret Atwood, which had a cover that made it look like a trashy 70s sexcapade.
Well, the rains moved on and the sun came out and it was all steam ahead to Page, a tiny place at a junction of a highway and two railways. Accommodation in what seemed like the back office of a local real estate business. No window, but nice and clean with a big bed and a good shower. All this being the 2nd (and last) official cyclist’s lodging of the journey. A woman met me at the pub (this was organised by phone in Fargo), let me in and left me to it. I dined at the town’s diner – another nice (if half empty) family place, strolled down to the railway crossing, then off to bed early to got started on my new book.
Posted by John Henderson at 14:50