Knife River Indian Village, La Despedida, Heading South

The Oasis Motel where we stayed in Dickinson is a great place. It is constructed of concrete block, so it's very quiet, the building is well kept, the woman who runs the place is right on top of things, and the continental breakfast rivals those we had at small hotels in Europe. We said goodbye to Paul and Joe, who are heading west to Oregon in their car, and we went east on I-94 towards Bismark, exiting at State Road 31 to Stanton, where there is a reconstruction of an Hidatsa Indian village on the Knife River. There were few people there in the morning, and the ranger on duty answered questions and gave us a lot of information - all during the trip we've found the park and monument rangers to be knowledgeable  and helpful. There's a nice museum inside, and outside is a reconstruction of an earth lodge similar to what the Hidatsa built for hundreds of years.

Interior of the earth lodge

Geo and Rich walking  out of the lodge

We took a short walk down to the Knife River, which is near the Missouri River and  Fort Mandan where Lewis and Clark wintered in 1804/1805 and where Sacagawea joined the party as the wife of trapper and translator, Toussaint Charbonneau. She was a Shoshoni who had been captured and enslaved by the Hidatsa until Charbonneau purchased her from them. The Hidatsa had lived off the land in the the same way for thousands of years; trapping, hunting buffalo, trading, and living in their sturdy earth lodges, and in a few generations after the European expansion westward it was all over. Yesterday we noticed new, insect-like oil pumps along the Interstate leading to Dickenson, and in town at the railyard we saw lines of new tanker cars. The contrast between that scene and the earth lodge couldn't be more striking. For the rest of the day Woody Guthrie's "This Land Is Your Land" was playing in my head, and I wondered if an Indian songwriter ever wrote a song to that tune that started out, "This land was our land..."

View of the  Knife  River

We said our farewell in the parking lot, Geo, Rich, and Dan got in the truck and I followed them to State Road 200 where they turned east to Fort Mandan and I went west. It was great riding with them for  the last week, and the lunch breaks and evening meals were always lively. I had a strong feeling of melancholy for a couple of hours after the parting.

After a short distance  I turned south on State Road 49, which I followed to Elgin, where I had lunch at the town restaurant, bowling alley, and  Lions Club meeting hall.

Our Place in Elgin, ND

The day was sunny and a pleasant 75 degrees, then warmed up to 85 or so by mid-afternoon - more perfect riding weather. The rolling hills and rocky outcroppings gradually smoothed and there were more hay bales, more cows, and more farms, although there was almost no traffic. The fresh smell of newly cut hay provided more sensory input. Somewhere along the way I ran into several miles of large and juicy insects, which made a large and sticky spot on my face shield, gloves, helmet, boots, and gas tank when they hit.

Stop. Take Turns. - a sensible way to deal with a one-lane bridge

I crossed into South Dakota and followed US 12 west for a few miles before turning south on State Road 73, which took me all the way to Kadoka, where I'm spending the night at a rather tired Rodeway Inn. I had strawberry rhubarb pie at the H & H Restaurant, which is part of the motel, but to tell the truth it wasn't that great. Still - rhubarb pie!

Tomorrow I'll visit Wounded  Knee, and then figure out a route and where to spend the night.

Billings to Dickinson, ND on I-94

We checked out of the Western Inn and went through town, where Geo found Stella's Bakery where we had a very good breakfast. I'll have to remember about this place next week when I'm in Billings for the BMW rally.

We rode east on I-94 to Pompey's Pillar, a natural rock outcropping on the Yellowstone River, that  was used as a meeting place and hunting ground by the Indians for centuries before William Clark named it after Sacagewas' son, who was called Pomp. Clark actually carved his name in the stone about halfway up the pillar, and it can still be seen today, protected by glass.

Pompey's Pillar

View from the top of farmland to the west

Yellowstone river and undeveloped land  to the east

The temperature in Billings was 55 degrees when I got up, and it was about 80 at Pompey's Pillar. By the early afternoon it was over 90. There is some farmland along  I-94, but a lot of it is range land and badlands.

Montana  badlands from I-94

We are spending the night at the Oasis Motel in Dickinson, North Dakota tonight. We met Paul and his brother Joe here - they are heading west to Portland, Oregon to meet their other brother. We had dinner at a Japanese restaurant (in North Dakota?) that was quite good.  Dickinson has grown very rapidly in the last few years due to the shale oil boom, and there are large, new apartment complexes just outside  the city near the Interstate.

Belle Fourche, Hardin, Custer Battlefield

(This post covers July 17 and 18)

The morning in Belle Fourche did not get off to a good start. Dan went off to a nearby gas station, put his helmet on the ground by the bike, and proceeded to fill his tank. Unfortunately, the nozzle shut-off was faulty, the tank overflowed onto the ground, and his helmet lining became soaked. He cleaned it up as well as he could with paper towels, but the smell inside the helmet was very strong. We had a good breakfast at Patty's Place across from the motel, and when Dan went to put on his one piece Aerostich suit, the zipper glide fell off. We looked closely at the zipper and saw that several teeth were missing at the top, which is why the glide came away. We got it back together, and managed to get the zipper started, so that Dan could get the suit on and off if he removed one of his boots, but he couldn't zip it all the way up.

We set off for the new (50 State) geographical center of the USA, which was on old US 85 about 15 miles north of town. We got to a dirt and gravel road with deep gravel and a sign that said the marker was 8 miles away, so we decided that we'd come far enough. On the way back to Belle Fourche we passed a park just north of town that honors the nearby center of the USA and various other things. I'd actually been there several years ago on a trip with John C. and John P.

We passed

We decided to find a motorcycle shop that might have a jacket that Dan could buy, because it was apparent that climbing in and out of his suit without a fully functional zipper was going to be a big hassle, not to mention the fact that if it rained he would get wet through the opening at the tip where he couldn't close the zipper all the way. Dan was also looking for a stick to prop open his faceshield because the gasoline fumes were almost overwhelming, and he decided to try riding with the whole bottom half of his helmet flipped up. I said that perhaps he should look for cheap helmet to go with a cheap jacket, when Geo made the obvious suggestion: "Why don't we just put the bike in the back of the truck, and Dan can ride with us?" Dan was OK with that, so we went to a nearby Kawasaki motorcycle and ATV dealer that had a ramp and platform in the parking lot that was just the right height to roll a vehicle into the bed of a pickup. Dan's bike just fit diagonally, Geo had brought tie-downs and we purchased a few more, and the bike was soon strapped down.

A tight squeeze in the truck

We'd thought about taking State Highway 34  into Wyoming and visiting Devil's Tower (soon to be renamed Bear Lodge), but with all the fooling around in Belle Fourche, we decided to stay on US 212 directly toward Billings. US 212 is a two-lane through sparsely settled country and also goes through a large Indian Reservation and the town of Lame Deer, where I'd stopped last year for gas and noticed a large casino that seemed very out of place. There was more traffic than you might think because US 212 is between I-90 and I-94, both of which are some distance away, so 212 is a good east-west road between the Black Hills and Billings.

We spent the night at the Western Motel in Hardin (about 40 miles from Billings), which was  right across the street from a laundromat, so Rich, Geo, and I did laundry. Hardin is rather a tired little town, but there was a restaurant downtown. Although it didn't have a beer license, the waitress suggested going across the street to the 4 Aces  bar and picking up beer to go and bringing it back, which we did. Well, those of us who drink did. As usual the N/A beer selection was limited.

Saturday. We gathered at 8 AM like we usually do, and rode/drove to a large cafe/gift shop across from the Custer National Monument where we had breakfast. After breakfast we were entertained by a cat on the roof of the building who was attempting to get in a window via a steel gate.

I can fit in there

Someone open the window

After watching the cat for awhile we rode into the Custer Battlefield site, parked, sunscreened up, and walked up to the hill where Custer and his men died. We walked across the road to a memorial to the Indians who died and to the end of their traditional way of life for Custer's last stand also marked the beginning of the end of the nomadic existence of the plains Indians. We followed a trail towards the river and a grove of cottonwood trees where the Indians were camped, and where Custer charged before he realized how many there were and retreated up the hill. Back at the visitors' center a ranger was giving a very dramatic talk on the battle, and we listened to most of it. The entire battle only took about 15 minutes. We drove five miles along a ridge to where Reno and Benteen took refuge. Along the way are markers that show where soldiers and Indians fell. From the ridge you can see the entire battlefield and imagine the soldiers surrounded by Indians and being chased up the hill, then falling one by one.

Watch where you step

Sculpture at the Indian memorial

Markers on the ridge

We spent over four hours in the park - Geo, Simone, and Spitz have read books about Custer  and the battle, so they provided a running commentary. We were very lucky that the day was  cloudy and cool - on June 25 , 1876 the temperature was over 100 degrees.

The Custer memorial from a distance

We saw this small herd of horses as we left the Reno-Benteen site.

We went back to Hardin for lunch at the 4 Aces - the previous evening Spitz had seen good-looking ribs being served, but in mid-afternoon all they had  was fried food - what we've  been eating for the last several days.

We went into Billings (about 60 miles  away), checked Spitz into his hotel, and checked the rest of us into the Western Motel, and then

had dinner at the Montana  Brewing Company downtown. There's a painted horse project downtown so we checked out the artwork.

Painted art horse in downtown Billings

We said goodbye to Spitz, who was spending the night at a different hotel because he was leaving for the airport at 5 AM and walked back to the Western.

Pierre to the Badlands, Mt. Rushmore, Crazy Horse, Deadwood

Leaving Pierre we stayed on US 14 to the town of Philip, where we turned south on State Road 73 to I-90 then east to Wall, where we exited and followed the signs to Badlands National Park. I'd been through the park last year, and everyone else was content to skirt around the southern edge on State Road 44, which is interesting enough and has no traffic. Near Rapid City, SD we followed the signs to US 16 and Mt. Rushmore. We all walked from the large parking garage through the crowds to the viewing area, took a few pictures, and headed back to our vehicles.

Still there

Five great Americans

We left Mr.  Rushmore and went south on US 385 to the Chief Crazy Horse Memorial. Andrew and stopped there in 2002 and I was somewhat taken aback by the large and new visitor's center and the seeming lack of progress on the actual sculpture. Now the building is actually larger and the sculpture looks about the same, although we were told that they work on it continually. It turns  out that when complete it will be the largest sculpture in the world - three times the size of Rushmore, larger than the pyramids. Meanwhile, the visitors' center is actually an Indian History museum as well, and we spent some time wandering through and examining the art and artifacts, including a letter from a woman who wrote to her sister about the murder of Crazy Horse while he was in custody.

Crazy Horse sculpture

Crazy Horse and Crazy Geo

We followed US 385 north through beautiful mountain country into Deadwood where we decided to  skip a visit to the cemetery and the graves of Calamity Jane and Wild Bill Hickock. US 385 is under construction through town, so it was a bit of a mess, but outside town it becomes a very good road all the way to I-90. We went on I-90 for a couple of exits to US 85  north to Belle Fourche, where  we are spending the night at a particularly shabby Super 8. We had dinner downtown at a bar/restaurant which I thought was OK, but Spitz had hoped for better beef in cattle country.

Pipestone, De Smet, Pierre

Before we left the motel in the morning I talked for a bit with the owner, who was also a motorcycle rider and has been one for about as long as I've been riding. I would have guessed that he was in his 60's, but it turns out he was probably 80, based on the fact that he mentioned that he had  a son who is  62. We stopped in Slayton at the Slayton Bakery, where we had a good breakfast at a very basic and authentic small town restaurant. Right across the street was the Left Bank Cafe, but we were all happy with our choice, possibly because of the waitress, who was very young, very pleasant, and very pregnant.

Downtown Slayton

The town of Pipestone and Pipestone National Monument is only 30 miles to the west on State  Road 30 and we arrived and wandered around the museum to learn a bit about pipestone (calganite) a hard clay that is found between layers of quartzite, and that was and is used by Native Americans to make pipes (for smoking tobacco and other dried  plants), jewelry, and other items. The stone has a deep red color, and is easily carved. Back in the 1800's Pipestone items were very much sought after and a good pipe was worth a horse in trade. There are three quarries at in the park, and only Native Americans are now allowed to quarry the stone  there. Of  course outside the national monument there are other places in the area where pipestone is found. The trail goes by the three quarries  as well as a waterfall, and we spent another hour or so walking it and enjoying the pleasant and cool (for mid-July) day.

Quarry tailings - mostly quartzite

Prayer offerings - the pipestone quarries are  sacred to the Native Americans who mine them.

The Oracle (rock formation in center)

Spitz on the trail

Geo contemplates the prairie

Always nice to see a waterfall

We followed State Road 75 north out of Pipestone (town) and back to US 14. The road very gradually increases in elevation as it heads west, the land becomes less hospitable to farming with shorter corn and soybeans, and more areas where there are no farms at all - in Minnesota US 14 is like riding through one vast farm, alternating soybeans and corn.

We stopped in De Smet for lunch and because I had the idea that everyone wanted to see the Laura Ingalls Wilder buildings in town (the house that pa built, the surveyor's cottage, the schoolhouse), it turned out that no one was really interested, and I had toured the town just last year. In fact at lunch I realized that I've been to De Smet, South Dakota more often than I've been to New York City.

Back on the road we continued under cloudy skies and there was even a sprinkle or two, but it looked like the storm activity was to the south. The temperature was a pleasant 80 and  there was little traffic except at a few construction delays.

One of  several  places where  there was a construction delay

In Minnesota we rode by dairy farms, but in South Dakota we  began to see beef cattle, and finally horses in the fields. One of the great things about riding out in the open on a motorcycle rather than inside a closed vehicle is that the smells are so much more vivid. Of course that can work against you when you  ride by a hog farm or feed lot...

We are spending the night in Pierre, the state capital, which is on the Missouri River. Tomorrow we should get into the Black Hills area near Rapid City.

Treaty. Betrayal. Uprising. Retribution.

This morning we were all up early so that we could be in St. Peter, north of Mankato, Minnesota to meet Geo's friend, Paul, at a museum. The Fairview Inn provided a sumptuous continental breakfast, and we were soon on the road under a slightly cloudy sky and pleasantly cool temperature. The museum we visited, The Treaty Site History Center at Traverse des Sioux, is fairly new and is mostly about the treaty signed by the US with the Dakota, which basically sealed the fate of the Dakota. The terms were very disadvantageous to the Dakota, but even so the terms weren't followed - the Indians weren't paid what had been agreed, and the land they had been promised was later taken. We wandered around the museum for awhile, then went outside to walk a short trail to the Missouri River, where there was a shallow ford - a traverse - that was a traditional meeting place for tribes and where the treaty was signed.

Dan and Spitz on the trail to the Missouri River

Geo at the ford

We left the museum and had lunch at a nearby restaurant, Whiskey River, where Geo had eaten in the past, and then went back to Mankato to visit Reconciliation Park on the site where 38 Indians were hanged for participating in the Dakota Uprising during the Civil War. Originally, over 300 were sentenced to be hanged, but President Lincoln reduced the number to 38 - the largest mass hanging in the nation's history. Following the uprising, the remaining  Dakota were shipped south and then west on a barge to their new homes in South Dakota and Nebraska, where they had a very difficult life with poor land for farming or hunting, and harsh conditions. The names of those who were hanged are listed on a monument, and on the  other side is a prayer to forgiveness by the poet Katherine Hughes. I found the monument and the small park to be surprisingly moving. There's also a statue of a white buffalo, which created a photo-op for the crew.

Peter  in front of the white  buffalo

The Gang of Five

We all (Paul joined our caravan) west on US 14 to New Ulm, which is also on the Missouri River. I  don't  know how the economy is doing  in New  Ulm these days, but at one time it must have  been a very prosperous river city - there are many old and stately brick mansions along the road by the river. We drove and rode up to Hermann Park, which overlooks the city and is the site of the Hermann Monument. There were many Germans  in New Ulm, and they decided to honor  their history by building a monument  to Hermann, a legendary soldier and leader who won a great victory over the Romans. The monument is almost a copy (though smaller) of  one in Germany.

The Hermann  Monument

Great view of New Ulm from the top of the monument

Paul left us in New Ulm to return to his home in St. Paul, and the rest of us continued west on US 14, which is also known as the Laura Ingalls Wilder Historical Highway. The author of the Little House on the Prairie books lived in several towns along what is now US 14, including Walnut Grove, where we stopped at a small museum. The museum was about to close, so we didn't go in, but we did spend a little time looking around in the bookstore and gift shop.

Back on the road we stayed on 14 to US 59 where we went south to the town of Slayton, where we are spending the night at a motel which, while  adequate, is considerably less grand than the accommodations of last night.

The weather today was pleasant and dry, the road went through rolling hills with a few gentle curves, there were groves of trees amid the endless fields of corn and soybeans, and the countryside and towns looked prosperous.

The Gang of Five Meet and cross Minnesota

On Monday morning I had cereal and coffee at the Super 8 - just enough to get me down the road to a real breakfast. It was very gray and overcast, but dry, so I decided to go with my riding jeans. After I showered and packed and went outside I discovered that it was sunny, but it had rained, so I went back inside and changed to lighter pants and my waterproof overpants. Riding north through town on Highway 67, I didn't see any better motels than the one at which I'd stayed - perhaps there were more on the west side of town. Highway 67 soon connected US 52, which follows the river all the way to Dubuque before it angles northwest away from the Mississippi. I believe  that 52 is one of the rare US Highways that doesn't go east-west or north-south - it starts in the Carolinas someplace and goes northwest into Minnesota -  I'll have to check that out and maybe ride its length someday.

The road along the Mississippi was very pleasant with good views, gentle hills and curves, and little traffic. There was about 20 minutes of light rain, which made me feel good about wearing my overpants, then the sky cleared, the sun came out, and it began to warm up. I found a nice restaurant in Bellevue, Iowa, and stopped for breakfast and to change into my jeans and stow my rain gear.

View  of the Mississippi across the road from Richman's Cafe

Richman's Cafe in Bellevue, Iowa on US 52

One of the patron's in Richman's was a uniformed conservation officer who informed me that there was a detour for US 52  just  up the road, and that instead of following the official detour, I could turn on to Bellevue Cascades road, which would take me to Dubuque and also by Spanish Mines, an interesting site. I followed the advice, and the road was indeed a good one, but it was also slow and took me way out of my way, so that I ended up entering Dubuque from the west rather than the south., and I never did find Spanish Mines. Unfortunately, all the new development in that city appears to be on the west side of town, so there was a lot of truck traffic, housing developments, every big-box store you can name, and mall after mall. I'd wanted to visit Eagle Point, a park on the river in downtown Dubuque that Geo had told me about, but I finally bailed out and bypassed the city. By this time I was running a bit late for our meeting in Prairie du Chien, so I hurried along through towns such as Luxemburg and Guttenberg - many Germans settled the area. My anxiety wasn't helped by the fact that I was running low on gas - many of the small towns I rode through might have five churches but no gas station. I finally found premium in Guttenberg and hurried on to Marquette and crossed the river to Prairie du Chien in Wisconsin. I found Simply Coffee & Eatery and sat down with coffee and a scone to await the rest of the crew.

Victor in front of Simply Coffee & Eatery

In the morning the local weather news on TV had reported severe storms in Chicago and areas to the  north, so I was worried about Geo, Rich, and Spitz, who were driving from eastern Wisconsin, and Dan, who was riding from Evanston, Illinois, north of Chicago.

The Wisconsin group arrived about 15 minutes after I did, and Dan arrived in another half hour (having waited out a storm in Evanston), and we all ordered food and began our planning for the trip. We spent way too long at the cafe, but finally set out and went across  the river and turned north on a series of small, numbered  roads with the same name - The Great River Road, which continued into  Minnesota. It was slow but scenic, with a railroad track to the east of  the road and about 50-100 yards beyond that to the river. We all noticed that in many places people had small houses or house trailers close to the banks, and that they were all on stilts - wood, concrete, even barrels. That  made sense - if the river flooded, the house would be above the water. However, what was strange is that the heights of the stilts were different, as if each builder was working with different data on how high the river would get.

The sky clouded up and darkened, and we soon ran into a very wet  road - we must have missed a thunderstorm by minutes. We came upon a pickup  truck on its side in a ditch, probably having skidded on the wet road. Everyone appeared to be OK and they were waving people on, so we continued on the river road, eventually joining US 14, which we followed west into Rochester where Rich had made reservations at a Fairview Inn - a very nice place with an exercise room, fancy lobby, and other amenities, none of which we utilized since we were all tired and ready for bed.