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Back to farm and fields of green

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The drive from Sioux Falls to St. Paul seemed short after our days on the road. I was so relieved that Bob hadn't insisted on driving straight through from Rapid City!

We rode through familiar farm country and the beautiful green landscape of southern Minnesota, almost stopping for apples (Sweetango and Zestar are in season), but deciding to make an apple run closer to home sometime this week. Although two-line Hwy 60 wasn't a very efficient way to get to the freeway, it was fun to see towns like lovely Elysian that were vague names and places on the map until yesterday.

We were on I35 before afternoon rush hour and picked up our mail at the post office. It feels good to be home.

Falls Park in Sioux Falls

Falls Park

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I always ask people who pass through Sioux Falls about the falls and am usually met with blank stares. Bob decided to find the falls yesterday morning after our night at the very pleasant Best Western Empire Towers (pretty good for a stopover; well priced at $94).

View from the bridge in Falls Park

Falls Park, an urban oasis near downtown Sioux Falls, sits above a lovely falls unspoiled by the commercialism that often degrades natural attractions. We took the elevator to a viewing balcony on the second floor of a tower, just high enough to give some perspective and a sense of the park's location in this flat city on the plains.

We were early and only a few others visitors were enjoying the park. I felt exhilarated as we walked in the fresh air toward the little bridge to see the falls and the Big Sioux River flowing under our feet. I finally saw a buffalo (OK, just a sculpture, but a fine one, Monarch of the Plains) that gave me a desire to see other sculptures in Sioux Falls.

I was tempted to linger but it was time to get back on the road.

Badlands National Park

 

 

Badlands National Park

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This is my third visit to Badlands National Park and I never tire of its rugged beauty. The name "Badlands" is right for this unforgiving landscape, so named by the Oglala Lakota in their language  and called "les mauvaises terres" by French explorers.

A visitor takes advantage of a photo op

The rocks are white in one large section of the park

We entered the park near Wall and stopped at a few scenic viewpoints along the way. Some of the lava-like formations look like sets from a science fiction movie, except for a few desert flowers blooming brightly and grass peeking through cracks in the rock. Prairie dogs played in the dirt and seemed to be showing off for tourists.

Visitors stopping at overlooks asked whether they should walk to the vantage point in the scorching heat. Bob told an older couple they could get a good view more easily down the road. Not really true, as that particular spot offered a panoramic 360-degree view  of the land.

We saw five or six vehicles parked just off the road, and a few people were looking into the distance with binoculars and shooting with long lens cameras. There was no safe place for the Corvette to stop, but I though I got a glimpse of something: buffalo, perhaps? There is a herd of about 800 in the park and I'd been hoping to see some of them. No luck this time

The unremitting sun got the better of me and Bob walked over to see an ancient fossil by himself. I continued to take photos of the white rocks in the distance as I sat in the air conditioned car. Some day I hope to return here in the winter, when the snow changes the appearance of this harsh land and bitter cold winds sweep across the plains.

South Dakota Air and Space Museum

 



South Dakota Air and Space Museum

Bob Hennessey is happy around engines of any kind

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I have been to the South Dakota Air and Space
Museum before. I searched through my various blogs, hoping that I would find a suitable post, but no such item seems to exist. I almost wonder if I'm not remembering some other fleet of planes in a scorching hot field. Could be -- I've seen a few.

I walked around half-heartedly, amazed that people actually flew these old planes in wartime. They looked so big and heavy, even those from the more "recent" VietNam era. I thought about the pilots and flight crew, wondering about their stories but not curious enough to look them up.

Bob walked merrily through the exhibit, looking at every last plane and missile. He posed with planes and read every aircraft description. He explained lift and some other principles of flight to me, for the nth time in the last three decades.The sun beat down on both of us and the few visitors on this Labor Day.

All the aircraft had some kind of South Dakota connection, though I'm not sure what it was. I wish I had more to say but I don't, except that I was hot and cranky by the time we got back in the car.

Mount Rushmore

Mount Rushmore National Memorial

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I didn't remember much about Mount Rushmore except the faces of the presidents carved into the rock, so a visit to Mount Rushmore National Memorial was a perfect way to end our last full day in the Black Hills.

Admission to the memorial is free but parking is $11 in a  covered ramp. We walked up a modest incline to the end of a long walkway, through stone gates and through an archway with flags of the fifty states on either side. We found Minnesota's, and I felt a surge of pride. I love Minnesota!

Bob found Minnesota's entry to the Union in 1858

The late afternoon sun was a little hot so we found some shade at the very end of our visit. I was amazed to see people snap a picture or two and turn away from the sculpture without a second look. The light changed as we watched, and for awhile only George Washington was totally bathed in light.

Minnesota's beautiful flag

I visited the gift shop and we left along with hundreds of others, though the crowd was orderly. Most visitors seemed to be American; I heard only a few foreign languages around me. The presidents' faces seem small when compared with the giant Crazy Horse sculpture only a few miles away.

It was all quintessentially American. Beautifully conceived and executed.

Bad day for a motorcycle

I always worry when the boys are on a motorcycle trip, though I understand the joy and freedom they enjoy on their rides.

Early yesterday afternoon, we decided to cut through Custer State Park, on our way to Mount Rushmore. We were only a short way up the hill when we were stopped by a park ranger standing beside a motorcycle in the ditch on our right, not far ahead of us. Another bike was parked on the left shoulder, but neither rider was anywhere in sight.

Traffic backed up behind our vehicle and a Custer ambulance soon sped by, its siren breaking the silence of the park. Bob turned the Vette around in the narrow road and we drove quietly to Rapid City, deciding to find our hotel for the night before any afternoon activities.

I don't know the outcome, but I do remember a fateful October afternoon 30 years ago when Bob and I were the passengers in such an ambulance. I may tell that story next month. I have no pictures of today's accident scene.

Driving the Needles Highway

Eye of the Needle

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View through a tunnel

The Needles Highway is everything I expected and more. On my first visit to South Dakota in the motorhome, we tried to go through the Needles but were turned away because the vehicle was too large to fit through the narrow tunnels.

Phallic rock

The weather was perfect when we started up SD Hwy 87, windows open to the fresh air and scent of pines. Peaks of stone rose up in the distance and the road gradually curved more and more, evidently too challenging for some drivers hogging too much of the road. Bob recalled his last visit on the bike with the boys and wondered aloud about what kind of passenger (a nervous one!) he would be on such a road, with steep cliffs on both sides. He enjoyed the challenge of switchbacks and tunnels, and I was happy with the overload of beauty and photo ops.


The chill in the air was welcome after the desert heat of the previous day. We stopped at various scenic overlooks along the way, wherever we could find a spot to park. Another perfect drive.

Mystical Crazy Horse Memorial

Crazy Horse

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Crazy Horse in stained glass

I had always thought of the Crazy Horse Memorial as some kind of unfinished monument turned tourist trap, so I wasn't prepared for the awesome experience of our visit this morning. Bob remembered being there 20 years ago on a bike trip with our young son -- one I remember well because I had a migraine the entire time they were gone. Bob was surprised to find a large visitors' center and museum where a few small buildings had stood the first time he was here, and preferred the more rustic venue. Unlike him, I didn't find the memorial overly commercialized. The exhibits are fairly well organized and professionally displayed, without pretense.

Chief Crazy Horse's face dominates the chunk of mountain it's carved on. I immediately felt an affinity for him and Korczak Ziolkowsky, the Polish American sculptor selected by Chief Henry Standing Bear to design and carve the morial. We began our visit with an excellent film about the ongoing project, one taken on as a mission by the sculptor's wife and ten children after his death.

An exhibit worth looking at

The museum is full of beautiful art created in many media. I particularly enjoyed meeting the September "featured artists", especially Lorri Ann Two Bulls, with whom I talked briefly about her art. She radiated warmth and peace, and I wondered if she minded being away from her work. She  said "No. This is what we do, and I enjoy this part of it just as much." I would have found it distasteful to have people picking over my work and haggling over price, but she took it all in stride. I felt recharged and happy in her presence.

Meanwhile, Bob had completed his tour of the museum and gift shop. I joined him outside on the deck, a pleasant space with beautiful potted flowers and a magnificent view of the Crazy Horse sculpture in the distance. It wasn't too crowded so I didn't feel rushed as I took a few pictures and soaked in the late morning sun.

I was left with a sense of wonder at the resilience of North American indigenous peoples and the beauty and power of their art. I can imagine myself in this beautiful place participating in a Richard Wagamese writing workshop or retreat grounded in Ignatian thought, so close to Lakota spirituality and sense of oneness with the universe.

We had to walk through the museum to get out and I lingered ... but Bob was by then a man on a mission to get me out of there, knowing that I could have spent the day. I will return.

Stopover in Custer

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Approaching Custer

The ride from Devil's Tower to Custer seemed very long and hot, through parched countryside with no shade for cattle. The light that seemed so appealing a day earlier bothered my eyes and I was mighty glad we had a spot for the night.

Said "spot" was the only available room in Custer. There's a certain excitement associated with booking at the last minute, a chance I never would have taken in the days before hotel databases on the Internet were so efficient. However, Expedia returned no results yesterday morning, and Trivago had only a few rooms at a mom & pop 11-room cottage that Bob wasn't willing to risk. Instead, he used our AAA book and started making phone calls. He got a last-minute cancellation at Econolodge in Custer, and while we were both a little dubious, we were in no position to be too fussy. I felt a litlte encouraged because Expedia had recently included Econolodge in its Custer selections.

The motel is pretty much what you'd expect, but much cleaner and "updated". The double queen is on the noisy main drag, but who cares. The bathroom is clean and the fridge works. Good reception on the newer RCA TV. Internet is easy to access and reasonably fast. The Willie Nelson lookalike at the front desk cheerfully visited our room and got the closed captioning off the TV. Breakfast this morning was predictable, except for the exceptionally good fresh watermelon slices. That said, I'm ready for a better hotel this evening.

We walked Mount Rushmore Boulevard yesterday evening looking for the restaurant recommended by Willie, but it was closed, along with most other establishments on the street. A passer-by suggested Sage Creek Grille, a gem you'd expect to fin in a "nouveau" neighborhood in a large city. We shared a sockeye salmon open-faced sandwich on wheat, with grilled potatoes and fresh greens. I had a lovely glass of Sterling pinot noir, evoking memories of a visit to the Sterling Vineyards in the Napa Valley many years ago. We shared an excellent crème brûlée for dessert.

We collapsed from exhausted and slept till morning, ready for another day.

Devil's Tower

Devil's Tower from a distance

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Although Bob wasn't overly enthusiastic about going into Wyoming to Devil's Tower, I hadn't been there since our motorhoming days 25 years ago and he cheerfully included it in yesterday's itinerary. I have only one memory of that long ago visit. I overheard a bored teenage boy's comment as he resisted a family tour of the visitors' center, "Ya seen one visitor's center, ya seen them all" ~ words I've recalled with every visitors' center decision ever since.

Climbers

Off we went, along I90 for part of the trip, soon onto smaller roads as we crossed the border into Wyoming. The unmistakable rock rose into the sky from a distance and I felt excited. Even from far away, the "stripes" in the rock were clearly visible.

Cute prairie dog

We used Bob's National Parks Senior Pass to enter the park. We quite often enter National Parks, and while the money saved isn't really an issue, there's something about "free" that's always appealing. The facilities are a little primitive, but parking is good and benches outside the visitors' center provide a great view of the big rock.

Bob was adamant about getting a few shots of climbers for our rock climbing neighbor. I couldn't even see the climbers so he took over my camera for a few minutes to get the pictures. We stayed around the national monument for about an hour and couldn't resist a stop to look at the prairie dogs before getting back on the road toward Custer, SD, our stop for the night.

Supper in the Evening Light

 

 



Sunset in Spearfish

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We were only a little weary when we checked into the Holiday Inn-Spearfish Convention Center at the end of the afternoon. I'd found the hotel in a sold-out hotel database as an "Expedia Mystery Hotel", for $100. After selecting and pre-paying the mystery hotel, I figured that a Holiday Inn would be acceptable, at the very least.

Patio table at 13's Lucky Pub

Turns out that even an AARP or AAA discount rate would be $149, so we did get a deal. The hotel is large and sprawling, and we were surprised to find a young guy spot cleaning the carpet in our room when we opened our door. The room is very comfortable, and a great place to spend the night, though the pool area seemed too lonely and isolated for a late evening swim. For once, I skipped this usual hotel pleasure.



Menu Review

We decided to stay onsite for dinner and were pleased with our light supper on the pleasant patio of  Lucky's 13 Pub. My $5 house Cabernet was excellent, while Bob was mostly pleased with the price, not quality of his $3.50 house scotch. I had a "small" house salad and turkey wild rice soup -- too much to eat but really very good. Bob's burger looked OK, and his fruit salad accompaniment was fresh and tasty.

Dusk enveloped us as we finished our beverages after dinner. We walked around the property, enjoying the fresh evening and the moody South Dakota Sky.

Lunch in Deadwood with the Bandidos

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Bob likes to make new friends.

We decided on lunch in Deadwood and parked at a ramp off Main Street after a drive-through the center of town. What the heck was the name? Buffalo's? Bully's? I was attracted by the singer, an older guy with a Willie Nelson kind of voice, and outdoor dining. Unfortunately, the entertainer took a break just as we walked in, but no matter. We sat in the shade overlooking the patio and got a good view of the bar and the other patrons.

A group from the Bandidos, in town for a rally in Rapid City, shared a table not far from ours. They looked ordinary enough, wearing leather vests and looking a little old for a motorcycle gang.  The women wore vests reading something like "Proud Bandido Old Lady".  They took iPhone pictures of one another, just like anyone else. No noise, no hell raising. The vests all had a patch of the home club state, and the ones we saw read Washington and Texas. It was just a little exciting for this sissy Minnesotan. We each had a beer and split a BLT before going back out on the street.

It seemed right to try our luck at a little gambling so we hit the slots at the Celebrity Hotel and Casino. We were a little conservative in our bets so our $15 profit on a $25 investment (Bob: $5; me $20) could have been much higher if we had only "bet the maximum"! Bob has pointed out more than once that it was he who turned my $21.75 into $40, when I would have cashed it in for less than a $2 gain. And of course he's right.

I haven't been in Deadwood for about 25 years and found the city dirty and tired, though the 1880s vintage buildings are still beautiful. The ubiquitous of cigarette smoke is mostly gone, though, a happy sign of the times.

Black Hills Canyons

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Rock and pines under ever changing skies

The Hennessey boys, big and little, have enjoyed bike trips to the Black Hills since way back. They reminisce about the winding roads, challenging hills and camaraderie on the trail, and over the last few days I've relived, not for the first time, Bob's favorite highlights of many motorcycle adventures.

Bridal Veil Falls

Yesterday morning after breakfast we drove the short distance from Nemo to Sturgis, riding through spectacular Vanocker Canyon. I felt some of the thrill of those exciting rides as the little red Corvette hugged the road and navigated the hills and curves. We met many Harleys as well as hundreds of Mustangs driving the other way from the Labor Day rally in Sturgis. I hung my head out the window to take pictures, missing (for an instant only) the height of the Traverse I enjoy on many of our drives.

We gassed up in Sturgis, skipping the famous Motorcycle Museum, and headed toward Deadwood via Boulder Canyon, where every turn reveals more beauty. After lunch in Deadwood, we travelled to Spearfish in Spearfish Canyon, stopping twice along the way. Bridal Veil Falls is a trickle at this time of year, but vehicles were parked across the highway and iPhones were clicking.

Views of the hills in the changing light, in sun and shadow, linger in my mind along with the fresh smell of the pines. It was a perfect day.

The First Day

A long day's ride in 100F
 

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We got off to a good start on Thursday morning, in welcome cool and a little fog. As always, we packed a little too much though fortunately we're limited by the space in the Corvette. I left behind the winter jacket that I usually have on an early fall road trip. Not that it's fall yet ... but a few leaves were turning already and I am a Minnesotan after all, always aware of the possibility of a big chill.

We drove to I90 through the Minnesota countryside, past horse farms and late summer crops; the vistas around Windom took my breath away, stretching "à perte de vue" toward the blue sky. The buildings of turkey farms seemed empty, maybe because of the bird flu scare months ago that wreaked havoc on turkey flocks throughout the Midwest. The fog lifted as we got away from the Minnesota River and we turned right on I90 toward Worthington, deep in Republican country, so I was surprised to see virtually no election signs.

We were welcomed to South Dakota at about 12:30 and Bob was soon happy with the 80 mph speed limit on much of the freeway. He was soon on a mission to reach Rapid City by cocktail hour. There would be no leisurely photo ops along the Missouri River in Chamberlain. We sped past Mitchell, where I had been hoping to capture a few shots of the Corn Palace and barely saw the signs for Wall Drug. We whizzed past minor attractions. Temperatures rose above 100F and stayed that way; we had a little rain, not enough to refresh. Somewhere along the way we lost an hour and I was afraid that Bob would look at the extra hour as an opportunity to extend the driving day. He was gaining steam as the hours passed, while I was a little less lively with every mile.

We stopped for tourist information about 40 miles from Rapid City, and my sociable husband chatted up the 80+ hospitality guide (excellent, by the way) while I wilted beside him. However, even he was tired when we stopped at the first hotel that seemed acceptable from a freeway sign: $79.95/night for the Fairfield Marriott at Exit 61. We got a king room ($142 with AAA discount). We had the sandwiches I'd made for lunch (peanut butter and jelly for Bob; cheese, tomato, cucumber, green pepper for me), washed down with Johnny Walker Red.

No view but the beautiful South Dakota sky and traffic on the freeway. We didn't budge all evening and got a pretty good night's sleep.