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- <p>I rode most of the day with two new riding partners, a chainsmoking Indian fellow and a geriatric chatterbox
- who were holding strong at last and second-to in the Trans-Am race. They were great company. We eventually
- parted ways as they turned towards Yellowstone and I rode into the depths of Montana, a suspiciously large
- state.</p>
- <p>Rain all day. I had been scared of riding in the rain, but I guess no longer. Amazing how fear evaporates
- in the face of lived experience. However, there was major road construction for some dozen miles going into
- Whitehall. This meant miles of dirt roads. Miles of dirt roads that had been rained on all day. It was
- absolutely filthy. I would have paid any price to clean myself of the dirt and mud caked onto every uncovered
- surface of my body, as well as a number of surfaces that had been covered. And at the end of the day it looked
- I wasn't going to be able to find a shower, but luckily one came through at the last moment at a Holiday
- Inn.</p>
- <p>This was ultimately the last day of life for my Nike sneakers. The mud and wet was too much for them.
- RIP.</p>
- <p>For dinner, I had the region's famous signature dish, a pork chop sandwich, invented in nearby Butte,
- Montana. Ok. Pretty good actually.</p>
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