The Black Hills

Bob forgot to mention in our last blog that I actually lived in Glasgow, Scotland, for a few months in the early 70s. I had gone there to be with a man I still refer to as Wacko Bill – not my finest hour. It’s very different from Glasgow, MT.

The road and terrain between Glasgow and the Black Hills of So Dakota looks just like between Glacier and Glasgow – flat with wheat fields and the occasional corn field. Having grown up in the Midwest and seen lots of corn, I can tell which fields are “real” corn and which are the new GMO type. It’s quite scary that less than 1% of the corn I’ve seen across the country (including our fast trip in the cars to Florida) are real corn.

We made a quick stop at Theodore Roosevelt National Park in North Dakota and were surprised to learn that they have wild horses there. We didn’t spend enough time to find them, but it was an interesting place in the National Grasslands and North Dakota Badlands. Bob helped out a distressed RV renter who’s door was stuck shut! It turned out that they live only a few miles from my parents – small world.

Ms. Splitface

We set up at a nice campground outside of Sturgis, SD called Rush-no-more. Bob and I were able to get a site in a quiet upper loop that backs up against the National Forest. We were greeted by a wonderful cat with unusual markings that came to see us each day. One side of her face was black, the other tortoise shell, and it split in a perfect line right down the middle of her nose.  She enjoyed turkey, ham and tuna during our stay to supplement her usual diet of grasshoppers. There were also many deer and dozens of wild turkeys passing through. We enjoyed the pool and hot tub.

Sturgis is the site of an annual motorcycle rally that has been held for 72 years and attracts more than 500,000 people each year. What a zoo that is, and fortunately it was over about a week before we arrived. We had been marveling at all the bikes heading west as we came across the mountains and prairies. The town itself isn’t much and has only about 6,000 residents.

Bob and I rode our bicycles 16 miles on the Michelson Trail that winds through the Black Hills for 110 miles. We realized it’s been a long time since we were on those bikes. Time to get back into it.

Four old friends of mine, who were traveling in a motor home, heading west from Boston, met us at the campground for two nights. It was great to see them and spend some time together. Everyone went to Deadwood, SD and had lunch at Miss Kitty’s Cantina. Bob and I visited Wild Bill Hickok and Calamity Jane’s graves there. All six of us hiked to the top of Bear Butte, a mountain that is sacred to the Native Americans. There were many prayers bundles and flags hung from trees and we saw a ceremonial area. It was a great climb with good spiritual energy and you can see four states from the top.

Bear Butte

Bob and the friends on the top of Bear butte