My alarm went off at 6:30 (7:30 according to my body.) I turned it off and rolled onto my back and dozed off again. I wasn't wiped-out tired, but the bed felt good and I figured I had plenty of time. I wanted to be on the road around 8:00. I wound up snoozing until almost 7 before I crawled out of bed.
Once I did stand up I realized I needed the restroom in a most urgent manner. The King Buffet the previous evening must have been more fiberous than I thought. What came out was surprising in its amount. I probably wouldn't normally mention this rather intimate fact had it not been so impressive. I really hated to flush it without contacting Guinness, as I'm pretty sure it broke some sort of record. But I digress... or at least digest.
After I got dressed and partially packed I went out to the lobby for breakfast. As I've mentioned numerous times, I'm a sucker for a big breakfast. I'll skip lunch more willingly than breakfast.
The AmericInn had a continental breakfast that was pretty decent. I loaded up on scrambled eggs, sausage, a bagel and a Belgian waffle. I also grabbed a couple of cups of coffee. At hotels I often grab two cups so they can both cool down to a drinkable temp at the same time rather than waiting for one, drinking it and then having to wait for the other to cool. It adds an additional cup to the landfill, which admittedly bugs me a bit so I don't always do it. This morning, though, I was starting to notice I was behind schedule so I allowed myself to waste a cup for the sake of time. Forgive me, Mother Nature.
I lingered over breakfast longer than I intended. The hotel lobby TV was tuned to MSNBC. I was disappointingly impressed with the political bias of their morning program. By the way, I'm no viewer of Fox News either, for the exact same reason. When it comes to politics, I fall clearly in the "neither of these groups of idiots" category.
After eating I went back to the room to brush my teeth and finish packing. For some reason I was being a bit pokier than normal. I finally got ready and started to load the bike.
I had parked the bike right outside my hotel room window. Motorcycle riders tend to like doing that. It makes us feel like our bike is more secure that way. Even though if someone was monkeying with my bike in the middle of the night, unless they were using a ball peen hammer I would most likely sleep right through it. Even if I did wake up, by the time I got out of bed, threw on some pants, ran down the hall, ran out the front door of the hotel and then ran back to where the bike was parked, the malaprop would be long gone. So parking the motorcycle within view is basically a mental thing with no real merit.
The temp was in the mid-50s. It was supposed to get into the high 60s today and be sunny, which was nearly 40 degrees cooler than the previous day after the cold front came through. As I was starting the day's trip with almost 40 miles at interstate speeds, I went ahead and put on all the cold weather gear I had brought including my jacket, chaps, neckie and I zipped the ear covers onto my helmet.
After dragging my feet for way too long, at last I checked out of the hotel and rolled out of the parking lot at 8:30. Which was about a half hour later than I intended.
I often prefer to ride back roads on my motorcycle trips. I feel like I see more that way. I decided to go ahead and ride a bit of interstate this morning from Dickinson to the park because there wasn't a good paved highway route between here and there. I would have had to go far out of my way and ride some gravel to avoid the interstate. That didn't make sense. So I decided to go ahead and ride to the park via the interstate. I'd also have to ride about 15 miles of interstate again when leaving the park.
The ride was a little chilly, but not too cold. For some reason the bike was acting like it was working extra hard to maintain interstate speed. It might have been in my mind, though. About 10 miles down the road it seemed to be fine.
At the highway 85 junction, two bikers came down the on-ramp ahead of me. I recognized them as the guys who I'd talked to to the previous day while waiting at the road construction. That would make sense, as the town of Bowman where they were staying was directly south on 85. They were ahead of me and didn't give any indication that they saw me behind them.
Off the interstate not too far from the park entrance there was a rest stop. The sign said there was a scenic overlook, so I decided to pull over and see it. That's why I'm on this trip, right? To see the sights.
As it turns out, this rest stop is the entrance to the hiking trails for the Painted Canyon in the park. I spent some time walking around and snapping some pictures.
One of the hiking trails looked enticing and I thought about exploring it. But I wasn't sure how much time I would want inside the park. I decided that I had to come by this rest stop on my way out of the park. If I wanted to at that point I could always hike the trail then.
The view from the rest stop was pretty impressive, so I was excited to see the rest of the park. The rest stop was about five miles from the park entrance at a town called Medora so I had to get back on the bike and ride a few more miles on the interstate.
Medora itself is a little town that pretty much exists to serve the tourists at the park. There are little shops, restaurants and hotels. I actually considered staying in Medora instead of Dickinson, but my hotel room would have been more than twice as expensive. I decided the convenience wasn't worth the significant extra expense.
I went through the park gate and paid my $25 entry fee. I had seen on the park web site that there was some major construction going on for the first few miles of the park. They weren't lying. It was more than just filling some potholes; they had completely removed the road and were rebuilding everything.
There was a line of vehicles waiting for the pilot car. I pulled up and got in line. Then I noticed the flag man waving for my attention, then calling me to the front. I rode past all the cars waiting in line up to where he was standing. He told me to get in the front of the line so I wouldn't have to "eat all the dirt coming off the cars in front of you." Only he used a lot more colorful language. Regardless, it was pretty cool of him to look out for a motorcycle rider like that. He didn't need to go out of his way, but he did. I tried to snap his photo, but he turned his back the last second.
I turned off the bike and waited. The website said "expect significant delays." While I was waiting the flag guy waved another couple on a motorcycle up to the front. We chatted for a while. They were from Ohio and had visited the park the day before. I told them my wife was from Ohio and we compared areas where we both had been. They also informed me that the previous day it was 106 degrees while they were here. That vicious cross wind I fought was a cold front that came through and cooled everything off for today. Whew!
We wound up only having to wait about five minutes until the pilot car arrived with the line of cars leaving the park following it. Then it turned around and led us into the park. The road surface was pretty "iffy" for a motorcycle. Lots of loose dirt. A water truck had recently wetted everything, presumably to keep the dust down, but that made parts of the road surface slick mud.
A couple miles up the road the pilot car pulled us over to the right and we waited a couple more minutes. Another pilot car came the opposite direction with more cars following it. Given the length of the construction (about four miles) they were running two pilot vehicles, so whoever got to the middle point first had to stop and wait for the other to pass.
Once the construction ended we were back on pavement. I was touring the south portion of the park. This area has a road leading into it, and then branches into a 37 mile long loop through this end of the park. I chose to ride the loop counter-clockwise.
The whole park is actually quite large. There is also a north unit to the park that I didn't visit. It would have been about an hour's ride north up highway 85 to get to it, then another hour's ride back. I decided that just touring the south unit would be sufficient for this particular visit.
I looked to the right and off in the distance I saw a herd of wild horses. Unfortunately they were too far away to get a good picture. As it turned out, horses and prairie dogs were the only wildlife I saw this day. There are lots of bison and elk in the park, but they must have been hiding on the day I visited.
Not far out of the construction there was a scenic overlook. Lots of the traffic coming out of the construction were pulling into that area. I decided I would stop and see that overlook on my way out, but for now I would keep riding and give myself some breathing room from all the other cars.
The park is very scenic. I reminds me a lot of the South Dakota badlands, but dare I say this park is a little grander?
I putted along slowly and took a lot of pictures.
I allotted the entire morning to the park so that I had time to get off the bike and do a little hiking. I came to the Ridgeline Trail. It was listed as a "moderate difficulty" hike. I thought this would be a good one to explore.
I still had all my cold weather gear on. This was fine while I was moving on the bike, but I knew it would be way too much once I started walking. I took a few minutes to strip down to just my jeans, t-shirt and a sweatshirt. I also left my vest on because it had my wallet, camera and other valuables in the pockets and I didn't want to leave them back at the bike. I put a ball cap on as well. I would learn that the sweatshirt and vest was nice while I was standing still, but a little too much while I was hiking. I also switched out of my boots into tennis shoes. I tied my boots to the back seat with the bungee cables.
I started up trail. It immediately went up some makeshift stairs that were a lot steeper than this picture would indicate. It was quite a climb just to get to the top of them and I had to take about 15 seconds to catch my breath before I continued up the trail, which was still an incline but not as steep.
True to its name, the Ridgeline Trail followed a ridge along the top of a mountain. It was very pretty.
I came to an area where an older couple were viewing some wild horses off in the distance by using binoculars. They pointed them out to me. I could see them, but without any magnification they looked like slow moving dots. We started discussing some of the various animal droppings we had observed so far. It turns out the lady was somewhat of an expert on animal droppings. She was explaining the differences. It was interesting, but not more interesting than the rest of the trail so I waited for a break in the conversation and excused myself to continue up the ridge.
More stairs took the trail up to a higher point with more views.
From there, the trail started descending. There were more steep stairs, only this time they were heading downward. I descended all the way down the mountain into a valley area.
From the valley, the trail once again ascended back up the mountain before it joined back up with the original path that the trail started on. I stopped again for a breather and to let some other hikers go by in the opposite direction on the narrow trail. One of them was visibly winded from the initial climb up the hill. He asked how the rest of the trail was, and I explained how if you follow it all the way you'll descend and climb the hill a second time. He thanked me for that information and stated that he'd probably just enjoy the view from the level where he currently was at and then go back down.
I followed the trail back down to where my motorcycle was parked. I decided to just stay in my hiking clothes for my remainder of the stay in the park, as I anticipated I would be stopping a lot and doing more walking. I left my helmet off as well, as the speeds in the park are quite low and I didn't feel like constantly taking my helmet off and on. I did turn my ball cap around backwards while I rode as I've learned that if you don't, the wind is apt to catch the bill and blow the cap off your head.
My next stop was the old east entrance. Apparently this was the original point of entry into the park. There was a hiking trail that went back about a mile to where you could see the old building.
This trail was pretty much flat the whole way. It also went through a prairie dog village. I tried to capture some of them in pictures but they were skittish whenever I would stop.
I continued along the trail. It was easier walking than the Ridgeline Trail, but wasn't as breathtaking. Still beat sitting in an office, though.
I got to the old gate and building. It turned out to be a lot smaller than I expected.
The trail ended here. It was an out-and-back trail. So I turned around and hiked back the same way I came in. More prairie dogs.
I got back on the bike and continued around the loop. I was needing a restroom break, and I saw on my map that there was one up ahead. It's actually surprising how few restrooms there were in a park of this size. I think once you're past the visitor's center at the main entrance, there's only two in the whole park. So if you visit, plan accordingly. Due to the scarcity of facilities, there was a short line of people waiting for their turn.
A bicycle rider went by. I saw a few people out cycling the park. That actually would be a pretty cool way to visit the area.
My next stop was Buck Hill. This was one of the higher points in the park and provides a wonderful view from the top. Unlike the Ridgeline Trail, there was a road that takes you a mile up the mountain. From there it's only a .4 mile hike to the top.
The ride up the road was a little interesting. There was a small section under construction where it was just a dirt path. The dirt, however, was pretty loose. This wouldn't have been a huge deal, except it was also in a spot that had at least a 15% grade. I could feel my rear tire breaking loose and the bike slowing as I lost traction through this stretch. Thankfully I made it up that section and back onto pavement.
At the parking area I stopped and proceeded to hike the rest of the way up the hill.
Once at the top I paused to catch my breath, then took some photos.
At the top of the hill somebody had built an "inuksuk", which is a stone monument used to mark a food cache, hunting ground or a place where someone lost their life. The only reason I recognized this as an inuksuk was because my son had told me about them a few months prior.
I descended the mountain and got back on the bike. It was getting late in the morning and I was about halfway around the loop. It looked like the remaining hiking trails were longer than what I wanted to tackle on this short visit, so I decided that I would finish riding the loop and conclude my visit to the park.
Coming down from Buck Hill I had to cross that patch under construction. I was a little worried given the trouble I had on the way up, but much to my surprise it was easier going down than up.
I continued around the rest of the loop, stopping a few times to snap a picture.
Once I reached the road construction at the exit to the park, I pulled over. Unlike at the entrance, the flagman didn't motion me to the front of the line. I shut off the bike and got off. While I was waiting I put on some sunscreen. I was debating whether or not to put on the rest of my gear for the ride, but then I saw the pilot car coming in the distance. So I opted to wait and put my gear on closer to the park gate. I figured all I would need is to have one shoe off when the line of cars starts following the pilot vehicle through the construction.
As we rode back through the construction I noted that it was a lot trickier riding than when I came into the park. It looked like a road grader had recently come through, as there was a lot of loose dirt. And there were spots where heavy vehicles had driven through the loose dirt creating some pretty big ruts. The bike bounced and swerved through it all. I tried to keep the bike more towards the center as occasionally the dirt would cause me to veer a few feet sideways. I didn't want to be near the edge of the road when that happened, especially in the spots where there was a steep drop off next to the road.
Once again we stopped and waited for the other pilot vehicle to pass by. We must have been ahead of schedule because we sat for at least five minutes before the cars finally arrived.
Back at the entrance, I stopped at the visitor's center to use the restroom and then put on my boots and the rest of my gear for the afternoon's ride. I rode through the exit and snapped one final picture of the park monument:
I got back on the interstate heading east. I would ride 15 miles to highway 85, then head south.
As I passed by the rest stop with the hiking trail in the painted canyon, I briefly considered stopping and doing the hike. However it was now about 1 PM, and I was getting a little hungry. I would have to change out of the gear I just put on, then change back when I was done. I decided to save that trail for my next visit and passed by without stopping.
At highway 85 I headed south. From that intersection it was about 60 miles until my planned gas stop in Bowman. The scenery was getting noticeably less interesting.
There wasn't much to look at. I just sat there and rode. At one point I passed a sign for White Butte, the highest point in North Dakota. At 3,506 feet, that's not saying a whole lot. Kind of like being the biggest flea in the circus.
Around an hour later I arrived in Bowman and started looking for a place to get gas and some food. First I found somewhere that had gas, but no food. Then I found somewhere that sold food, but no gas. Finally on the south side of town I found a convenience store that sold both.
After topping off my tank and washing a layer of bugs off the windsheild, I went inside to peruse the food offerings. I suspected I was going to eat a buffet that evening in Deadwood, so I opted to try and not over-do it for my lunch. They had a meal deal that included two hot dogs, a bag of chips and a soda for $5. I went with that.
There was no place to sit down so I chose to stand out by the bike while I ate. I just left the bike parked by the pump because the whole time I was there only one other vehicle pulled in for gas, so I wasn't making anyone wait by staying put.
At this point I realized I'd forgotten to take my heart medication the previous evening. I considered just skipping and waiting until the coming evening, but I could hear my cardiologist lecturing me in my head. I took my medicine.
After I finished eating I climbed back on the bike. I knew the next 115 miles to Belle Fourche were going to be pretty... pretty dull, that is. Unfortunately there was no scenic way to get from here to there. I climbed back on the bike and hit the road.
The miles passed by slowly. About 10 miles down the road I crossed the border into South Dakota. The scenery wasn't markably different.
There were a couple of really small towns, with hardly any houses let alone services. Good luck if you ever broke down out in this part of the country.
About 20 miles north of Belle Fourche is the geographical center of the United States. It actually is located in the middle of a field, about 8 miles down a dirt road.
I thought about going to see it, but decided I didn't want to ride 16 miles on gravel just to see what amounted to a marker. I settled for taking a picture of the sign.
After a couple hours I arrived in Belle Fourche. There was a visitor's center and I pulled over. I thought about taking a break from riding, but decided that I was close enough to Deadwood at this point that I'd prefer to push on and rest when I got to the hotel. I got off the bike to snap a couple pictures at the visitor's center.
Here's an old Farmall F-20 tractor like my dad drove when he was a kid.
Belle Fourche touts itself as the geographical center of the U.S. even though the actual location is 20 miles north of the town. So even the people there don't find it worth making the trip and they just stuck a marker within the city limits.
There were some veteran memorials to each of the wars, and an old log cabin.
I was probably off the bike for less than two minutes before I climbed back on. I went to pull out of the visitor's center and all of the sudden traffic was kind of heavy. I had to sit at the intersection for a while before there was a break to let me turn onto the main road. Not sure where all the cars came from.
As I rode through town I saw a Super 8 hotel where I remember staying during a family trip back in 1979. I snapped a picture for nothing more than my own nostalgic purposes.
On the south side of town, I turned east on highway 34 for about 7 miles and then went south on St. Onge road. I'd never been on this road before.
St. Onge road hooked back up with highway 85, which I then took south to Deadwood. The highway 34/St. Onge route shaved a couple miles off of just staying on highway 85, and also avoided the interstate.
I arrived at the Thunder Cove Inn in Deadwood a few minutes after 5. I have stayed in this hotel many times before. When I got to the desk the lady informed me she had just tried to call, and left a message. The office closes at 7 PM and you have to be checked in prior to that time, so she was calling to find out my ETA. As it turned out, somehow she had gotten a hold of my land line number and left a message on my answering machine at home. That wasn't very useful, but in the end it didn't matter.
I pulled all my gear off my bike and headed up to the 2nd floor of the hotel building where my room was located. Upon entering the room I was surprised to see a near full size fridge. Most places just have those mini fridges. This was a new addition since the last time I stayed here back in 2014. I didn't need a fridge, so it was a moot point. But I found it interesting.
I unpacked a little and relaxed. It was now about 5:30. The Twins baseball game was coming on at 6:00. The trolley would be at the hotel heading downtown at 5:45 and 6:15. I decided to catch the 6:15 trolley to go get some supper. Then I could ride the trolley back and see the end of the Twins game (and hopefully a victory.)
I rode the 6:15 trolley (which actually showed up about 6:10) downtown and ate the buffet at the Silverado casino. Frankly, it was mediocre at best. The salad was good. The pecan pie was good. The prime rib was ok. The lasagna was flat out bad. Bad enough that I didn't finish most of it, which is really rare for me not to finish food as I can hear my mom's voice in my head if I waste any.
After I finished eating, I left the casino. I'm not a gambler, so I had no interest or temptation to stop by any of the tables and lose some money. I strolled down the street looking in windows and waiting for the trolley to take me back to the hotel.
The trolley took a lot longer to arrive than I expected. At last it showed up. I overheard another rider talking about some severe weather coming in to the area.
Back at the hotel I finished watching the last four innings of the Twins game. They came from behind and beat the Pirates 5-2 in a pretty exciting fashion.
As I was watching the game I noticed it indeed had started to storm outside. The rain came down pretty hard for a while and there was some lighting. I tried to snap a picture through the screen but it didn't turn out very well.
I called home to report in. My son's golf tournament had gotten rained out, but other than that not much was going on back in Sioux Falls. I showered and shaved and remembered to take my heart medicine.
I don't remember what time I crawled in bed, but it wasn't all that late. Probably around 10 PM Deadwood time, which was 11 PM my body time. I quickly discovered that both of my pillows were competing for the "lumpiest in the world" title. But I was able to flip them around enough to find a satisfactory orientation and fell asleep.
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This page last updated on 08/29/2018