When Clarke moved off that ranch, my riding was forced to change. I didn't have 50 acres to myself anymore. I only had county roads to ride on, but that was ok. At least, I still had acreage in Minnesota and North Dakota to ride. And the county roads were relatively safe to ride as well. So, that's where I decided to start. 

My summer trip to North Dakota in 2017 was pretty special. I was left to do whatever I wanted for the two weeks I was there. My grandparents and their siblings were busy renovating the old farmhouse, and the early June weather was almost perfect. It would rain from time to time, but it wasn't storm season. The plants I was allergic to hadn't sprung up yet, and the bugs were minimal. A strong cold wind would blow everyday, keeping things cool and fresh air moving. Sometimes, that wind would pick up dirt from the young crops and blind me for a few seconds, but I was having too much fun to complain, and the bandanna I wore under the full-face helmet protected my lungs.

I'd ride from the moment I was ready, until the stars began to shine. I easily spent about $100 on gas and oil for my dirtbike, and my grandpa was nice enough to pay for the Mountain Dew and beef jerky I grazed on. Donnell cooked us breakfast, lunch, and dinner, which I'd join everyone for. Otherwise, I was either in my room or riding my dirtbike. 

I was glad to finally be out of that Christian school and on a well deserved vacation, but I was still struggling a bit. I was struggling with my faith in God, and anxious about my health. I didn't feel sick, but something just felt off. I also dreaded the next school year. I tried to tell myself that the school I was going to would be an answered prayer, but I couldn't convince myself that it would be ok. I had some sort of sense that something terrible would happen, but I didn't want to think about it. I just did my best to ignore my concerns, and went riding for hours on end. 

I saw the most beautiful sunsets in North Dakota. Every evening, I'd ride out to the far hill at the end of the pasture, and watch the sun slowly set below the horizon. Killdeer, pheasants, meadowlarks, sparrows, and hawks would fill the air with their songs. Frogs and crickets chirped. Cattle bellowed in the distance, and the wind whispered through the grasses as I stood alone in silence next to my dirtbike on the hill. Sometimes, I drank a Mountain Dew, since my grandparents and their siblings liked me to join their card games and play late into the night. But I wouldn't start my dirtbike again until the sun was well below the horizon.

I've always revered the beauty of nature, and felt it was wrong to miss those sunsets. Those sunsets provided a comfort from life that I had been craving. There's just something reassuring about it, like a vision of heaven or an answered prayer. God's beauty truly shined every evening, and is honestly one of the things that kept my faith standing. It was a rare time, where I could sit still and rest in my mind, without worrying about things or dreading the near future.