The first words we heard in North Dakota were called out yesterday by a jovial Ellendale resident. “Are you trying to get killed?” The fellow was inspired by seeing us pedal safely by.

We tempted fate again today. As does everyone, everywhere, always.

No big deal.

Or were we?

Not if you consider the wild animals. They’re everywhere.

But we don’t get cozy.

Since we reached the Great Plains, we seem to project a force shield. As we roll along, birds of all sorts, and prairie dogs and other mammals, flee at right angles to our path.

Critters that ignore roaring trucks and ferocious wind blasts that fling sand painfully hard (ouch!!) against Jeffrey’s face, freak out at our slow quiet harmless approach.

We can’t explain meaningfully to animals that we newcomers are no threat.

We can and do explain to people the harmlessness of newcomers (strangers, migrants, refugees)—if they’ll listen.

The Great Plains people we met, listened. We hope we changed some minds, and stiffened the resolve of those who already welcome newcomers from abroad.

We have reason to hope. Everyone we met welcomed us. And we’re stranger (pun intended) than most!

Tomorrow we’ll encounter different people in a different region.

Until then, we need a place to stay.

Lisa welcomed us to Hankinson, North Dakota (pop. 921).

Puppets don’t get tired. I’m fresh as a daisy.

Jeffrey has pedaled 274 miles in the past 3 days, over hill and dale and plain, through wind and sun and rain. He’s knackered.

We plan another long haul tomorrow.

‘Nuff said.