The Black Hills - Thunder Storms and the Cutest Cop in North Dakota
I broke camp early from my spot on the Laramie River with my sights set on South Dakota’s Black Hills. The plan was to get to the south end of the park, find a spot to camp, then spend the following day doing the Black Hills tourist thing.
I passed through Laramie WY and made a brief stop for fuel and water before hitting the road. As I left town, I noticed an old Prison that looked interesting, so I pulled a U-turn and found my way to the Wyoming Territorial Penitentiary. The prison was built in 1872 and is now maintained by a historical society. For $5 bucks you can do a self-guided tour, and since Butch Cassidy was incarcerated here, I figured what the hell…must be wort˙ $5 bucks, ya? It’s really nice NOT being on a timeline when you travel
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As I left Laramie in my rear view mirror, the landscape became expectantly bleak and prairie-like with a few sections of interesting rock formations and alpine desert mountains. It would not get scenic again until the Black Hills. I closed in on the park around dinner time and just wanted to find a place to post up as huge thunder storms were rolling in. I knew going into this that remote dispursed camping was going to be hard to find, so I pulled into Wind Cave campground and found a spot. About 10 minutes after setting up my awning, I was so happy to have it. The skies opened and dumped torrential rain with the bonus of hail nailing my hands as I held onto the awning aluminum pole structure so it wouldn’t rip off the side of my truck
The storm passed 20 minutes later giving me a window to set up my RTT and make-shift kitchen. I cooked up some food, cleaned up, then settled into a couple of episodes of the Soprano’s S1 which I had downloaded at home to help keep me occupied when I had no connection. I had not watched Soprano’s since 1999…so it was all new. Another favorite HBO series of mine was Deadwood, so of course I was excited to see the actual town the following morning.
On the way to Deadwood I made the obligatory stops at the mountain carvings of Crazy Horse and Rushmore memorials in that order. After seeing the scale and vision of Crazy Horse, I have to say Rushmore was a let-down. Crazy Horse was started in 1948 by sculptor Korczak Ziolkowski and is still 50-75yrs from completion. It’s frigging huge and the long-term vision is ambitious.
There is actually some amazing country in this area. The granite rock outcroppings flanked by ponderosa pines and sweeping views are beautiful. The only problem is remote access (zero) and the sheer number of people. Despite California being one of the most populist states, you can still get away from people if you have a small, capable rig and know where to go.
After a day of being a tourist, I wound up in Rapid City SD. With no viable camping options in the area and rain brewing, I elected to grab my second hotel room. With shelter and connection, I was able to get through some deferred personal business and set up for my push north to from SD to Canada. This part of the trip would have been a complete snooze-fest had it not been for my notorious habit of speeding. The topography between Rapid City and Fargo is of course a vast expanse of nothingness…bald-*** prairie. I was maintaining 85-90mph on a very lonely section of two lane when I crested a hill and saw the first patrol car I’d seen in 4 days.
As I flew past the Dodge Charger with roof cherries I knew I’d been had. A quick glance in the rear view mirror confirmed my hunch. I immediately pulled over and gathered my paperwork for presentation. I rolled down my window and was greeted by simply the cutest blonde haired, green eyed female state trooper I’d ever seen in my life. As I handed over my papers she started asking my about my truck, where I was going, where I’d been, when would I get there etc. We chatted a bit and I told her I was really hoping that I could get a warning…like I had not seen another car for hours, so speeding was almost an involuntary Pavlovian response to my surroundings. To my relief she agreed and told me I would not be getting a ticket. We chatted a bit more before she received a radio call she had to respond to (maybe someone was tipping cows)
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The rest of the drive to Fargo was boring as hell…so no stopping for photo’s…no need. Now I’m hunkered down in what I believe is the only campground in or near Fargo. I have a river view (good), nobody on either side of me (good) and the sweet soft sounds of Interstate 94 a few hundred yards away. I miss the open spaces in the west…which is why I’ll never live anywhere else.
Tomorrow is up through northern the boarder crossing at Baudette MN, then up through Sioux Narrows and to the family cottage at Longbow lake. Time for fishing!
Cheers,
B
