I’d be here for hours if I tried to describe the morning ride. 3:40 AM, the moonlight, everything mysterious, the warm licorice air, the cold air smelling like freshly turned earth, mint. The road aglow, fading into velvet tones, roadsigns as if painted black, deer sounding like monsters, grasshoppers singing a special song to the moon. A hundred other amazements: the Pleiades expanded, the never-ending hill, the fields glowing like quilt-lining laid out for miles. The sunrise eating it, the dual world in between.

When the sun was in full view, I turned south to Newtown in Fort Berthold reservation. Definitely different tribes there, don’t know which. Friendly.

Fair breakfast. Hot ride through the reservation to Mikoti on the other side. A small town w/ gravel streets. Drink 3 iced teas at the caf�, set up in the park. Pay $2 to swim & talk w/ the attractive instructor/lifeguard. I dive once & trunks come completely off underwater. I had to get them on again before coming up. Did she see?

Nap, dinner, then I go to check out the regional baseball tournament outside town (3 blocks). The perfect way to get aquainted w/ baseball – strong, tan, smalltown kids playing well under a cloud-streaked North Dakota sky, stands of locals cheering, kids running after fly balls for 25� apiece, moms gossiping, dad razing each other about the performance of their kids. The star, Curtis Pietrich(?), is a pacific islander I think, the only non-white kid around. He pitches a great game & wins it w/ a grand slam. This is smalltown America, for sure.