Wounded Knee, Hot Springs, into Wyoming

This morning the weather was unsettled with dark clouds that hid the sun for long periods of time. The complimentary breakfast for motel guests at the H & H Restaurant was perhaps the worst I've seen - stale Cheerios, stale muffins, and an empty coffee pot (I got coffee in the regular restaurant). If I hadn't been still full from the dinner last night I would have had a regular breakfast in the restaurant. The bad food and the threatening weather suited my mood as I headed for Wounded Knee some 90 miles away, the site of a massacre in 1890 and another confrontation in 1973. I rode south on State Road 73, then west on US 18 to the turnoff for the memorial site, about 7 miles north in the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation. The small parking lot held a truck and a couple of cars - a family of tourists and Indian families selling crafts out of their cars and trucks. I spoke with Ira for awhile, who was there with his wife and baby, and bought a dream-catcher from him, and then walked up a hill to the site where the Indians who died at Wounded Knee are buried in a mass grave. The small monument that marks the mass grave is surrounded by a fence, and around that is a small cemetery. An Indian of about 35 or 40 years came up to me and identified himself as Little Moon. He said that he was the caretaker of the cemetery, and began to talk about how his great-grandmother brought him there and how she told him what had happened. He smelled slightly of beer from the previous night, and his gums had receded significantly (meth?), but he had a gentle way about him and spoke well. There are almost no jobs on the reservation - the unemployment is over 90% - so most of the people collect their handouts from the government and get by with odd jobs or by selling crafts that they make.

The official US government explanation of the massacre

One of the graves in the cemetery

Little Moon at the entrance of the memorial and cemetery

A rutted dirt road leads to the memorial on the hill, and below, where the massacre took place, only the large sign that the US put up provides the history of the site. There's only a small parking lot, and no air-conditioned interpretative center or any other amenities that you might expect at a site of such historical significance, I spoke with another vendor a short distance away who was under a thatched canopy, and who showed me newspaper clippings from the reservation newspaper that told a slightly different story than the one on the large sign. The massacre happened at the middle of the winter on December 29, 1890. The Ghost Dancer movement had been active in the area - the Ghost Dancers believed that by dancing and wearing a special shirt, they wouldn't be harmed by the white man's bullets. The US government had prohibited Ghost Dancing, and the wearing of the shirts, and the 7th Cavalry (Custer's outfit) was there to enforce the edict, and also to confiscate weapons. The Indians had set up an encampment by a nearby creek, and the 7th Cavalry, which had been starving the band of Indians, was promising food if they would give up their guns. The soldiers were going around taking weapons, and one man, who was hard of hearing, resisted when they grabbed his rifle, perhaps not understanding what had been said. The gun went off, the soldiers opened fire, the Indians opened fire, and, as the sign says, "All hell broke loose." The soldiers had a Hotchkiss gun on a nearby hill, and they opened fire with that, killing Indian men, women, children, and also soldiers. When it was all over 200 Indians were dead, and 25 soldiers, not including a few more who later died of their wounds. The Indians were buried in a mass grave on the hill, and many of the soldiers received the Congressional Medal of Honor. Since the 7th Cavalry was Custer's old unit, you could say that this was a final revenge for the Custer battle.

The Indian memorial with prayer offerings on the fence

Little Moon at the entrance of the memorial/cemetery

The cemetery

The Indian memorial

The day was getting progressively more gray, and as I suited up by the bike it began to sprinkle, so I put on my overpants and rain gloves. I rode back to US 18 and turned west towards the town of Pine Ridge, the gray day matching my dark thoughts.

I stopped in Pine Ridge to buy more premium gas. When I gassed up in Kadoka yesterday all that was available was regular, and my previous fill-up was also with regular, so I stopped in Martin earlier in the morning to put in a gallon and a half of premium, and I put in another gallon and a half in Pine Ridge - the premium would raise the octane of the mix.

At US 385 I turned north to Hot Springs, which is at the south end of the Black Hills area. Hot Springs is a little town with many crafts stores, quilting shops, and other stores along that line. After striking out at an organic-looking coffee shop (no meals, just sweets), I managed to find a restaurant across the street from the Fall River and had a chicken salad followed by a small rhubarb pie.

A small waterfall  into the Fall river

The espresso shop where I didn't eat

The day warmed and the sprinkles stopped, so I packed away my rain gear. After taking care of some business at the post office, I headed out of town on 385 to Custer, where I turned west on US 16, which climbs over a pass and goes into Wyoming at Newcastle. The road was well paved, there was little traffic, the gray day began to break up and large patches of blue appeared in the sky. After some mild twisties over the pass the road leveled and went downhill to Newcastle, where I stopped in at a visitors info booth to get a Wyoming map. Newcastle is an unpretentious town with a large railyard and an old downtown.

Fancy public building in downtown Newcastle, Wyoming

This is high plateau country, about 4300 feet, and US 16 ran into I-90 at Moorcroft and I followed that road (speed limit 80 mph!) to  Gillette, where I'm spending the night at the Mustang Motel, possibly the worst motel of the trip so far. It's run by a branch of the ubiquitous Patel family, there's no shampoo, no Kleenex, and there's one light in the middle of the room. At least the wireless connection works OK. The motel is across the road from a multi-track train line, and in addition it's almost under a freeway overpass. Charming.

Don't stay here

There was evidence on the road out of Newcastle and in Gillette itself of earlier shower activity, so again I dodged the rain. I'll probably not be so lucky tomorrow, as showers are projected throughout the area.

Andrew and I stayed in Gillette in 2002 and I wasn't impressed at the time, although there was so much construction going on that I withheld judgement. The construction seems to have ended and it looks as though it was all about housing developments and chain stores. There's a small downtown area near the railroad tracks, but the rest of the town is lacking in charm. The beer and liquor store situation seems to be that everything is sold in bars, and I looked for non-alcoholic beer in a couple of them. One place had Busch N/A and the lady behind the bar apologized, saying that they usually have O'Doul's as well but they were sold out. The other place had both brands - no thanks. I did observe that smoking is still permitted in bars in Wyoming.

This evening's motel experience inspired me to book a room for tomorrow right away instead of waiting until the afternoon like I did today. I phoned Carol (and her fast Internet connection) and with her help we began searching along my projected route, which was into the northern Wyoming mountains including Greybull, Lovell, Cody, and Red Lodge, Montana. Unfortunately, everything was either booked or very expensive, so I rethought my route and decided to return to Hardin, Montana, where I'll stay at the Super 8 there. At least I can do a laundry.