atci90d/app/templates/stops/bowman.html

<p>The temperature today breached the 90s. I wasn't really bothered. In fact, I hardly noticed. This was
an oft-repeated question: isn't it too hot to be riding your bike?? Really, I never actually noticed. Even
sweating it uphill I have a bit of a breeze. More air circulation than I could ask for. And working hard and
sweating... the heat was never an issue. I NEVER noticed but people would CONTINUE to comment on and ask
about this.</p>
<p>I was writing my thoughts in my journal (the source of all these memories and experiences) at the local
dive and I was approached by the exceptionally outgoing citizens of Bowman, ND. One person asked me how the
golfing was. ??? What golfing??? He had seen my (bike) glove tan and thought it was a (golf) glove tan. He
thought I had "Golfer Hand". I showed him that it wasn't golfer hand because I, in fact, had it on both hands,
not just my left.  An old dude in a veterans cap approached me and asked what I was writing. I told him I was
recording my thoughts and experiences. He thought for a minute and asked if <em>this</em> was going to be
recorded, meaning our conversation. I thought for a minute, and said "I suppose so. If it's a notable event,
I'll write it down." By asking, his question became a self-fulfilling one. Sure enough, I wrote down our
experience.</p>
<p>That night, I truly experienced the power of a great Midwest storm. It was the most colossal war in the
skies I had ever seen. We were at the intersection of two great storms converging and a friendly trucker
introduced me to the Midwest hobby of "Storm Watchin'"... just as foreign to me as their fondness for "Road
Trippin'" and "Rabbit Shootin'". But Storm Watchin' is truly a spectacle, better than television. The strength
and magnitude of these storms as they roll over the great flat expanse of the Midwest, picking up steam and
shaking the Earth with their strength... truly a humbling hobby. I'd like try it again.</p>