Life on the frozen tundra of South Dakota Life on the frozen tundra of South Dakota

Day 3 - 08/26/2012 - Hot Springs, SD to Deadwood, SD

Day 3 - 08/26/2012 - Hot Springs, SD to Deadwood, SD

The first leg of the day's journey. Hot Springs, SD to Hill City, SD:

The first leg of the day's journey. Hot Springs, SD to Hill City, SD.

The route I originally intended to ride on the second leg, from Hill City, SD to Deadwood, SD:

The route I originally intended to ride from Hill City, SD to Deadwood, SD

The route I actually wound up riding from Hill City, SD to Deadwood, SD:

The route I actually wound up riding from Hill City, SD to Deadwood, SD

I awoke around 7 AM with the intention of grabbing some continental breakfast and hitting the road by 8:00 so I could be at Deadwood at a decent time to enjoy the evening. It seems I have this intention every year: to arrive at my destination early enough to have a relaxing evening. Unfortunately it rarely happens.

I walked around to the motel office to see what was available for food. It was the usual fair of coffee and rolls, with one interesting addition. There was a crock pot full of beans in tomato sauce. This seemed to be an unusual dish, let alone for breakfast. The owner of the motel had a southwestern Asian accent, which I thought sounded Pakistani but I'm no expert on dialects. Perhaps this was a traditional breakfast dish from his country? Not sure, but I was willing to give it a try.

I ate my breakfast and sipped coffee while I studied my map for the day's journey. The beans and tomato sauce were OK, but not anything I'd probably order in the future from a restaurant menu.

As I was eating, the owner came up to me and told me he'd left a bucket, soap and rags outside my door so I could wash my motorcycle before I left for the day. I was dumbfounded as this was an unexpected surprise. I must say, the owner of the Dollar Inn in Hot Springs, SD went above and beyond in trying to meet my needs.

So, I took advantage at his hospitality and modified my plans for being on the road by 8. I gave the motorcycle a good wash and shined it up real nice. This took an extra hour I hadn't planned on, but I decided that was OK.

My bike all cleaned up and ready for the day.

I checked out of the motel and told the owner that I was extremely impressed with his service. I told him I would tell all my friends that I recommend his hotel. He thanked me, and I hit the road.

I gassed up at a nearby station and then headed up highway 385. It was a nice morning for a ride. Around Wind Cave National Park, I caught a glimpse of a pronghorn in the field to the east of the road.

A pronghorn enjoying the morning.

On a previous trip I had already ridden highway 385 between the town of Custer and Hot Springs, so I took a different route on this day. I had seen a small road north of Wind Cave that linked directly to Custer State Park. I turned onto this road and headed towards the park.

The road started getting very scenic.

This was a neat road. It was quite scenic, and I started seeing lots of buffalo. In fact, I probably saw more buffalo during this trip than I have at any other time in my life.

A herd of wild buffalo.

Occasionally there would be buffalo blocking the road, forcing me to wait until they pass. Sometimes they're in no hurry. It is a bad idea to honk or try to squeeze by them as a spooked buffalo is an extremely dangerous animal.

Buffalo often blocked the road.

As I mentioned, there was no shortage of buffalo.

More buffalo.

They acted like they own the road, which they do.

I was getting into the foothills of the mountains by this point.

The southern foothills of the Black Hills.

The road became twistier (is that a word?)

A pigtail bridge.

I love the smell of the Black Hills. It's a combination of Ponderosa pine and Black Hills spruce. It brings back memories of my youth at Camp Judson in the heart of the mountains.

The trees have a wonderful smell.

As I rode there was no shortage of sights. I made frequent stops to snap pictures.

A colony of prairie dogs.

A winding road.

A pretty lake I rode by.

More pronghorn.

When I reached the edge of the park, there was a station where you pay your entrance fee. Looking at it I quickly realized that it was completely on the honor system, as you could take a park "sticker" and there was nothing forcing you to deposit anything into the payment box. Seeing as I was going to be in the park for less than an hour, I was quite tempted just to skip the payment. But the little angel on my left shoulder won the argument against the devil on my right shoulder and I put my money in the envelope and slid it into the box.

Referring to my earlier comment about the dangers of buffalo, there was a sign posted on the edge of Custer State Park. Many visitors to the park don't realize that these buffalo, while fairly used to humans, are still wild animals. They're usually docile, but once angry or scared they turn aggressive. Due to their size, they can do a number on a car if they ram it. Someone like me on a motorcycle would stand no chance against an upset buffalo, so I keep a respectable distance away.

Buffalo are dangerous.

I wasn't the only person on a motorcycle. There was a group ahead of me out enjoying the day as well.

Another group of bikers.

I followed them for a while. They were going slow enough that I could snap their picture while I rode.

Taking pictures while I rode.

Custer Park had a large fire about a decade ago, so there are many parts of the park that are now barren.

The sights of Custer State Park.

More buffalo.

And still more buffalo.

I then came across something I didn't expect to see: a herd of donkey. Not sure if they were wild or not, but just to be safe I stayed back.

A herd of donkey.

Well, I tried to stay back. I had stopped completely, but one donkey decided to come my way. I'm guessing these animals get fed often enough from park visitors that they are used to people. I think this one was looking for a treat. He stuck his head right in my face, but by the time I got my camera out he was backing off. He must have figured out pretty quick that I didn't have a snack for him.

A donkey looking for a snack.

The donkey walking around the other side of me.

By this time I was almost getting tired of buffalo. I was getting hungry and wanting to head to lunch, but lunch was still nearly an hour away. The buffalo were thick enough they were causing a traffic jam. People were getting frustrated which was causing them to do dumb things with their cars. That made me nervous as I didn't have a couple tons of steel protecting me should they get sick of the provoking.

Lots of buffalo.

Still more buffalo.

A traffic jam caused by buffalo.

Waiting for the buffalo.

Finally I got through the park and exited on the west entrance. I headed back up to the highway, then headed west towards the town of Custer. On the map I had seen a little road that wrapped around a lake, just off the highway. I thought that might be fun to explore. So I took a little detour.

Trees surrounding the lake.

A winding road.

The lake.

A closer view of the lake.

Back on the main road, I headed west to the town of Custer. I know this is probably confusing, as there's a town called Custer, and about 20 miles east there is Custer State Park. So I rode through Custer Park and now I'm heading to the town of Custer. Got it? Good!

On the western edge of Custer I headed north on highway 89 which took me up to Sylvan Lake and the entrance to the Needles highway. Rather than going on the Needles, however, I headed northwest towards Hill City where I was planning on stopping for lunch.

The road from Sylvan Lake to Hill City.

Just south east of Hill City.

In Hill City I stopped for some lunch. I was originally looking forward to eating at the Alpine Inn, which is famous for their German cuisine. Unfortunately when I arrived at the restaurant I discovered it was closed on Sundays. So, I rode down the street looking for a different option. I came across the Slate Street Grill which looked promising, so I decided t give it a try.

I ordered a burger and fries, and relaxed for a bit reading my book. The service was a bit slow, and the restaurant was getting busy being lunch time on a Sunday. However, the food was good.

The Slate Street Grill in Hill City, SD

Back on the road I was planning on heading west out of Hill City into Wyoming all the way to Sundance. Then I was going to head back east on a little road that joins up with the Spearfish Canyon road and head into Deadwood for the night. I had never been on this road west out of Hill City and found it to be excellent riding. Nice and twisty, with little traffic.

The highway west out of Hill City.

The lake on the highway west out of Hill City.

I was about half way between Hill City and the Wyoming border when my plans hit a snag: the road suddenly turned to gravel. I stopped for a minute and thought about my situation. Apparently the mapping software I used when planning my route didn't notate gravel roads, otherwise I wouldn't have picked this road. I suppose I could have just forged ahead and ridden on the gravel, but I didn't know how long it would remain unpaved. I really didn't feel like riding on gravel all the way to Sundance.

Pavement Ends

So, I had to change my plans on the fly which was disappointing for an analytical guy like me. I decided I would ride back to Hill City, then spend some time riding around the Mount Rushmore/Keystone area, then take highway 385 up to Deadwood.

I turned around and rode back the direction I had come. I swear the trip back took twice as long as the trip out. To compound things, I noticed some very dark clouds to the south and the temperature was dropping quickly. The closer I got to Hill City, the more I realized it was going to storm.

When I finally made it back to the same restaurant parking lot from which I departed, I could hear thunder and it smelled like rain. I decided once again to revamp my plans. Instead of riding around the southern part of the Black Hills I decided to head north up highway 385 and try to get ahead of the storm. The storm looked like it was rolling to the northeast, so I speculated that if I quickly load up and go I might be able to avoid getting drenched. It's not like I've never ridden my motorcycle in the rain before, I just wasn't in the mood for it on that day. Plus I'd just given the bike a good wash that morning and wasn't yet ready to sacrifice all my hard work.

A storm rolling in. The picture doesn't do justice to how dark the clouds really were.

I quickly threw on my rain gear and jacket, as the cold front moving in had dropped the temp at least 15 degrees. I hit the road and wasted no time putting miles between me and the storm.

About 20 miles up the highway I reached Lake Pactola. My efforts were successful as I could see by this point I was going to miss the storm. The temperature was back up in the 80s again, and I was pretty warm in my rain gear. I stopped at the lake and took off my jacket and rain gear, and snapped a few pictures.

Lake Pactola.

Lake Pactola

Lake Pactola

I continued on up highway 385 towards Deadwood, where I was planning on staying for the evening. I was on target to arrive in Deadwood about 2 PM. This would have given me plenty of time to relax, but I felt a little guilty ending my day so soon. After all, this was a motorcycle trip!

So I revamped my plans. I decided to head down to the Spearfish Canyon road and catch the little road that connects to it, and see where it went. My original plan had me riding into the canyon on this road, I just decided to go the other direction.

I stopped in Lead, SD for gas and a root beer. It was in the little convenience store where I had a crisis of temptation that I had not felt in a long, long time. They had a sale on some Hard Lemonade, and I was very tempted to buy a bunch and go back to the hotel room and drink them.

Now for a little back story: at this point in time I had been sober for more than 22 years. In fact I had been sober so long I rarely ever was tempted to drink, and when the temptation came it rarely was very intense. The strength of the temptation on this particular day was stronger than I'd felt in over two decades. I stood in the store weighing the decision. I was alone, and nobody would know.

The only problem is I would know. I would know that I threw away 22 years of sobriety for a few fleeting hours of feeling dizzy. I would know that if I succumbed once, I would be more likely to succumb again in the future. I had a fleeting moment of strength so I seized it, took my root beer and walked away. I was victorious for this moment. But I would be lying to you if I didn't admit that I knew I would be passing by this store on my way back to Deadwood, and that I thought about buying the booze the whole time I was riding that afternoon. Thankfully I found the strength to stay sober. It was a good reminder that those of us with addictions (and we're ALL addicted to something self-destructive, whether or not there's a specific 12 step group for it) can't let our guard down, ever.

Back on the road I headed southwest out of Lead down to the entrance to Spearfish canyon.

Heading into Spearfish canyon.

Once again I hit a snag. The road through Spearfish Canyon was under construction. It was still open for traffic but the pavement had been removed and the road surface was loose gravel. I paused for a moment deciding on what to do. I reasoned that I was planning only to ride half of the canyon road and then branch off on the road heading into Wyoming, I could probably put up with a few miles of bad road. So I voted to forge ahead.

The road was pretty treacherous, as the loose gravel made the bike pretty squirlley. The good news was the construction ended right before I got to the Spearfish Canyon Lodge junction where I was going to head west, and I was back on solid pavement. The bad news is as soon as I made my left turn, I rode about 100 yards and the pavement ended again. However this road wasn't under construction, it was always a gravel road. Google Maps really needs to start indicating which roads are paved and which aren't.

At the Spearfish Canyon Lodge junction.

So once again I took a short re-evaluation break. I really didn't want to ride a long distance into rural Wyoming on gravel. However I also wasn't quite ready to head back to Deadwood and call it a day. I opted on a third option, which was to keep riding through Spearfish Canyon all the way to the town of Spearfish. There they have a fish hatchery that is kind of interesting. I figured that would be a fun way to spend a little time, and get me off the motorcycle a bit as I was starting to get kind of stiff.

I finished the ride through the canyon, which is a very scenic ride and well worth seeing if you're ever in the area. As I pulled into Spearfish, I remember from years prior that the hatchery was just to the west of the northern entrance to Spearfish Canyon. However it wasn't where I remember it being. This was not the first time my memory had failed me, so I pulled onto the main street that runs through town. I immediately saw a sign pointing to the fish hatchery as being straight ahead. I continued riding down the road, which makes a right turn. Pretty soon I found on myself on the north end of town, where I knew for sure the fish hatchery didn't reside.

Somehow I must have ridden right by the hatchery. I turned around and found another sign indicating the hatchery was directly ahead on this same road. So I tooled along and pretty soon I found myself back where I came into town, again without seeing the hatchery. I was really confused.

So I turned around again and slowly and deliberately rode back down the road, passing the first sign for the hatchery and keeping my eyes peeled. When I reached the 2nd sign for the hatchery facing the opposite direction, I knew something was amiss. I reasoned the hatchery must be off the main road on one of the side streets.

After riding around for about 30 minutes, I had yet to find the hatchery. At this point I was fed up with the prospect of touring the fish hatchery and threw up my hands in disgust (in a metaphoric sense, anyway.) I decided that this day just wasn't happening for me, so I would just ride the 40 miles back to Deadwood and call it good. I headed back south on Spearfish Canyon Highway the way I came in.

Having just ridden the canyon a few minutes prior, and with the weariness of the day starting to set in, I tried to pick up the pace on the way back. Traffic wasn't bumper to bumper, but it was heavy enough to not let me move as fast as I would have liked. Once again I rode through the construction zone and the loose gravel until I was back on the highway. I headed north towards Lead, planning on just heading to the hotel.

A couple miles up the road I passed a little highway that I had never seen before. It headed south to a town called Rochford. I decided despite the fact that I was wearing out physically, that I would at least explore this little road. Looking at my map the road appeared to go through this town, then weave back east to highway 385. I figured I would ride the highway and then come back up 385 into Deadwood.

I headed down this highway and started to explore. It was scenic, and I hardly saw another vehicle on this stretch. I did see a few of these weird things that looked kind of like off-road golf carts, only they went a lot faster.

The road on the way to Rochford.

About 16 miles down the road I reached the little town of Rochford. There wasn't a whole lot there, but there was a bar with a bunch of people sitting on the deck out front. They watched me putt by, looking wide-eyed like I was a space alien. Apparently not too many people make it down this road.

I followed the road on my map that indicated it would take me east over to highway 385. At the edge of town this road turned to gravel. So I turned around and headed back, then decided to explore the south road out of town. This road started out promising, but a couple miles down I saw the familiar sight that turned out to be the theme of the day:

Pavement ends.

No more pavement.

I decided I was done for the day. I had about enough energy left to ride back to Deadwood and that was it. So I turned around and headed back the way I came. It looked the same, although I did see a flock of wild turkeys.

Wild turkeys crossing the road.

I rolled into Deadwood and breathed a sigh of relief. The day hadn't gone as planned, and although I really didn't put on that many physical miles, I had been sitting on the bike a long time and I was tired. I checked into my hotel, then showered and relaxed in the air conditioning and read my book.

The Thunder Cove Inn in Deadwood.

At supper time I went down to the hotel lobby where I chatted with the owner of the hotel. My wife and I have stayed there many times together, and this was the 3rd time I'd been there on my own, so we've gotten to know the owner a little bit. Her husband who helped her run the hotel had recently passed away, so we shared stories about the loved ones we had recently lost.

The trolley came by, and I hopped on and rode downtown with the intent to walk around the casinos and have some supper. I got off at the Gold Dust casino which I remember having a buffet I liked, and went inside. Unfortunately the buffet wasn't there any longer. So I went across the street and ate at the Silverado casino buffet. It was pretty good, and I stuffed myself thoroughly.

After I was done eating, I was planning on walking around downtown and seeing the sights. As I walked out the door, the trolley happened to pull up. I made a split second decision to board the trolley and ride back to the hotel. I just wasn't feeling like walking around, I guess. I'm not a gambler or a drinker (any more) so there wasn't much to do but people watch. At that moment in time, my hotel room and my book sounded more appealing.

And that's what I did back at the room: read my book. I called my wife to let her know I'm still alive, but mostly I just relaxed and read. And then I went to sleep knowing that the next day was going to be a long one.

Continue on to day four...

Return To The Main Motorcycle Gallery

This page last updated on 06/28/2018