Black Hills to Bozeman

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After our thwarted attempt at hiking, we decided to try again Friday morning. We got up, had an excellent five-dollar breakfast at KOA and drove north out of Custer. There are a number of hikes quite close to Rushmore/Custer, but I wanted to get a little off the beaten path. I should note that Keystone, the nearest real town to Rushmore is a total bleeping tourist trap. Casinos, theme parks/shows/restaurants. (There was actually a Flintstones Theme Park next to the KOA we were staying at which almost qualified at cool, but not quite.) Anyway, it's gross. As we said, the Badlands are awesome. But I am pretty sure you can die a happy person without ever going to Rushmore or Custer State Park (and just wait till we get to Deadwood).

Pactola reservoir
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So we drove to the Pactola Reservoir and hiked around. The Black Hills National Forest is by no means breathtakingly beautiful, but its western and northern regions are largely without people and noise. We didn't see anybody while we hiked and the silence was blissful after all the touristy chaos bs.  (Jon's note: although we did have to pay to park, despite the National Park Pass)

We're being advised to get to "strong, sturdy, shelter" but it's too late for that...

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After hiking, we fueled up on PBJs and headed to Deadwood, which we thought would be a mildly kitschy but cool town. Saloons, shootouts, what could be bad? Well, it was terrible. First we got stiffed for parking (five bones!) and then we walked around the lameness that is Deadwood, SD. Deadwood happens to built in the dumbest place ever, a small valley that water easily cascades through and has done on many occasions -- Deadwood has flooded and burnt down at least a dozen times. But because Wild Bill Hickok was shot there, many people wanted to "preserve" (rebuild) it. So they kept pouring money into it. But it's expensive to keep rebuilding a town, so in 1989, they passed the Gaming Act, legalizing gambling in Deadwood. They wanted to raise $30 million in 20 years to fund reconstruction. It only took them five to come up with that cash.  (Another note from Jon:  Moral of the story... gambling pays)

Welcome to Wyoming, where a freak storm will try to end your road trip
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So now it's mostly casinos. Two other interesting facts: Deadwood was basically established and developed by Jews. There is a placard on Main Street that explains all this (see photo), but they came in, built, ran it, got the mining underway, brought in the railroad, et cetera. Other interesting fact: Wild Bill Hickok wasn't really that wild. Some sensationalist journalist wrote a very, very long piece about his outlaw ways in Harper's and he became a legend for his card games and shoot outs and loose women. But after the article was published, many family members wrote letters to Harper's protesting these falsehoods. So basically Deadwood's reputation isn't true and yet it's maintained to this day to bring people there to raise revenue to support it. Blech.

About a block from where Wild Bill was shot, depending on which sign you believe
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One thing that was good about Deadwood's suckiness is it prompted us to get the hell out of Dodge -- we were planning on leaving for Bozeman, MT the following morning, but there was nothing left to see in the Black Hills so we headed west and ended up completing the drive to Bozeman (five hundred miles!) that afternoon and evening. Jon will tell you more about this epic journey...

From Deadwood I took over the driving in the hopes that Julia would make it out of a state without being pulled over.  Deadwood is less than an hour from the Wyoming border, but why risk it?  Shortly after leaving town Julia fell asleep in the shotgun seat, which was fine as I was in the driving zone.  Wyoming had some interesting landscape, but the most interesting thing to me was that the 200 mile stretch of I-90 from SD to Montana was mostly paved red.  After logging over a thousand miles on the road, little things like that become interesting, although cruising the open road stretched out before you to the horizon offers its own rewards.  I almost made it through the state without touching either the gas pedal or the brake (love cruise control).

Jews build the wild west
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Julia woke up about 100 miles into Wyoming when suddenly I exclaimed, "What the (expletive deleted) is that?!"  Off to the northwest it looked like Armageddon approaching (despite the tameness of the picture), one very mean dark spot of sky surrounded by the usual blue expanse of big sky country.  Julia tried to assure me it was just a little rain, but I was not convinced.  I found out I have a very strong fear of tornadoes, which was never an issue before, but now has real relevance.  Fortunately whatever was attempting to cross our path did not have the appearance of a twister, but it still boasted a lean and hungry look.

Hooray for Montana!
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In the middle of an rousing sing-a-long to GnR's "Welcome to the Jungle," the national emergency broadcast signal broke into the radio transmission basically warning to get the hell away from the storm that was approaching.  (Everyone remember those tests they do from time to time?  First time I ever heard those squelches that wasn't a test.)  Of course, the highway begins to turn right into the storm, which is now angrily shooting lightning every few nanoseconds.  We're being advised to get to "strong, sturdy, shelter" but it's too late for that... there's nowhere to pull off and the next exit isn't for miles.  It begins to rain lightly as we skirt the edge of the storm, which according to the emergency broadcast is traveling east at 15 m.p.h.  The speed limit in Wyoming is 75, which I'm doing, attempting to not soil my pants, as the road veers slightly away from the storm (we're heading north at this point).  Well, apparently the Volvo was moving faster than said doomsday weather pattern, because within a few miles I could see it wreaking havoc on the land from the rearview mirror.  Another weather related near-miss.

Welcome to the jungle
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I realize that I shift tenses way too much.  Please forgive me.  I'm not the writer in this relationship.

After that, the drive was unremarkable, although the Montana landscape really is stunning.  After a stop in Billings to find a pair of underwear emblazoned with "Welcome to Billings" for Lauren (unsuccessfully) we were both very much looking forward to pulling into Bozeman for a night in a real house, with a private shower and a fridge with food and a comfortable bed.  Imagine our delight when we rolled into the fabulous home of the Pieczeniks...