Black Hills, South Dakota and Home!
This is a rare public post. I mostly post friends-only for simplicity, so if you want to be on my friends list, let me know. :)
Today Apollo and I visited Custer State Park, home to 1500 buffalo, toured the Wind Cave, drove a mountain road that reminded me of Mr. Toad's Wild Ride... "Omigod this is wild! Take a picture willya?", saw Mount Rushmore, drove through the Badlands, and then pressed on home.
We woke up in Hot Springs, South Dakota, and saw deer walking through town. Decided to take a tour of Wind Cave, in a national park, and that was cool! We went down 220 feet. They've had to airlock the entrances because wind flows in and out of the cave due to barometric pressure differences. They only want the wind to flow through the natural openings. The ranger kept saying that nothing lives down there, but Steve could smell mold. I couldn't smell it as I had prepared for it by wearing a mask. It's a very long cave, with over 100 miles of passages known, and many more yet to be explored.
Custer State Park was the highlight of the trip. I was really happy to drive through there. They have 1500 buffalo! They have roadside warnings: "Buffalo are dangerous. View only from a distance." Well. What do you do when they're standing in the road? At one point there was a mini traffic jam as two lines of cars were held up by a herd grazing on both sides of the road, and two standing in one lane. When my turn came I drove by *really slowly*, looking that large buffalo in the eye at two feet. That was cool. I also had to be careful to not run over, or into, prairie dogs and pronghorn that were crossing the road. We drove by a snake slithering over the road, and I had a gut reaction of need-to-get-away upon sight of it. Not because I am afraid of snakes, but because I grew up in a region of venomous ones. There was something that clicked in me about this one. I couldn't tell you verbally how to identify a dangerous snake, but it turns out that this park is home to a venomous rattler. I find it cool to know that subconsciously I had the right reaction. We also saw donkeys and wild turkeys.
We drove Iron Mountain Road out of the park, and up into the hills. It is small, twisty with severe switchbacks, knots where you quickly go under the road you were just on, and a few one-lane tunnels. Coming through two of those tunnels we could see Mount Rushmore perfectly in the distance. That was way cool. At the summit we stopped for a view, and were passed by a parade of well-kept fancy vintage sports cars out for a spin. I looked at them and was immediately reminded of the Matchbox cars my brother and I used to play with. I know we had a few of those cars! The ride down the mountain was unique. Twice I was headed visibly down, on a single lane ribbon of asphalt that twisted and wound through the trees, with no shoulder, no signs, no markers, only a ribbon of white paint to the right and a ribbon of yellow paint to the left. Somewhere, to the left, must have been the upward lane, but I couldn't see it. Apollo took a picture, but I can't upload it just yet. It was truly wild. I haven't been on a road like that. Dirt roads like that, yes, but paved? Designed that way?
Our one heavy meal of the day was in Keystone, where a nice lady served us from the dinner menu, even though it wasn't yet dinnertime. Looking at the near empty place, I'm sure she didn't want us moving on. The tourist season is just starting there, they've only been open a month this season. Mmmm, buffalo strip! She even had the cook fire up the second grill to cook my steak so that it wouldn't have garlic/onion seasoning on it from other orders.
After viewing Mount Rushmore and driving through the Badlands, we barreled on through the night home.
The only significant traffic we hit on this trip home was through Colorado. Coming through Denver and then up to Cheyenne the traffic was heavy and fast, early afternoon Friday rush. It was fairly stressful, and once it cleared out and I was driving through a scenic Wyoming I drove through just last week, I pulled over, handed the steering wheel to Apollo, and crashed.
I did most of the driving home, at Apollo's request. Unlike Terry, who prefers to drive if he's in the car. I did most of the driving yesterday, from 10:30 am Mountain time to 2 am Central Time. Then I crashed and let Apollo drive us up 35 from Albert Lea. I woke up to find us in the Twin Cities, 4 am Sunday, passing a cop who pulled someone over, lights everywhere, signs everywhere, traffic out and about. We had someone riding our ass down 42nd St. Ah, home.
I am a city mouse. The Twin Cities are *small* compared to the Greater San Diego area I grew up in. And yet they are the largest metro in the Midwest. It's somehow comforting to come home to great expanses of concrete, freeway signs, people up and going somewhere in the early hours. I like nature, I do. To visit. Like I like Southern California, to visit. Here is home.
And so I end this travelogue with the lyrics going through my foggy head when I saw familiar freeway signs and the wide open, familiar, multi-lane freeways:
"Take me down to the paradise city where the grass is green and the girls are pretty, Take Me Home!" Ah, Axel Rose, you had quite the incredible voice! And so I hear fast, grinding rock signifying our return to the Cities. Quite appropriate.
Today Apollo and I visited Custer State Park, home to 1500 buffalo, toured the Wind Cave, drove a mountain road that reminded me of Mr. Toad's Wild Ride... "Omigod this is wild! Take a picture willya?", saw Mount Rushmore, drove through the Badlands, and then pressed on home.
We woke up in Hot Springs, South Dakota, and saw deer walking through town. Decided to take a tour of Wind Cave, in a national park, and that was cool! We went down 220 feet. They've had to airlock the entrances because wind flows in and out of the cave due to barometric pressure differences. They only want the wind to flow through the natural openings. The ranger kept saying that nothing lives down there, but Steve could smell mold. I couldn't smell it as I had prepared for it by wearing a mask. It's a very long cave, with over 100 miles of passages known, and many more yet to be explored.
Custer State Park was the highlight of the trip. I was really happy to drive through there. They have 1500 buffalo! They have roadside warnings: "Buffalo are dangerous. View only from a distance." Well. What do you do when they're standing in the road? At one point there was a mini traffic jam as two lines of cars were held up by a herd grazing on both sides of the road, and two standing in one lane. When my turn came I drove by *really slowly*, looking that large buffalo in the eye at two feet. That was cool. I also had to be careful to not run over, or into, prairie dogs and pronghorn that were crossing the road. We drove by a snake slithering over the road, and I had a gut reaction of need-to-get-away upon sight of it. Not because I am afraid of snakes, but because I grew up in a region of venomous ones. There was something that clicked in me about this one. I couldn't tell you verbally how to identify a dangerous snake, but it turns out that this park is home to a venomous rattler. I find it cool to know that subconsciously I had the right reaction. We also saw donkeys and wild turkeys.
We drove Iron Mountain Road out of the park, and up into the hills. It is small, twisty with severe switchbacks, knots where you quickly go under the road you were just on, and a few one-lane tunnels. Coming through two of those tunnels we could see Mount Rushmore perfectly in the distance. That was way cool. At the summit we stopped for a view, and were passed by a parade of well-kept fancy vintage sports cars out for a spin. I looked at them and was immediately reminded of the Matchbox cars my brother and I used to play with. I know we had a few of those cars! The ride down the mountain was unique. Twice I was headed visibly down, on a single lane ribbon of asphalt that twisted and wound through the trees, with no shoulder, no signs, no markers, only a ribbon of white paint to the right and a ribbon of yellow paint to the left. Somewhere, to the left, must have been the upward lane, but I couldn't see it. Apollo took a picture, but I can't upload it just yet. It was truly wild. I haven't been on a road like that. Dirt roads like that, yes, but paved? Designed that way?
Our one heavy meal of the day was in Keystone, where a nice lady served us from the dinner menu, even though it wasn't yet dinnertime. Looking at the near empty place, I'm sure she didn't want us moving on. The tourist season is just starting there, they've only been open a month this season. Mmmm, buffalo strip! She even had the cook fire up the second grill to cook my steak so that it wouldn't have garlic/onion seasoning on it from other orders.
After viewing Mount Rushmore and driving through the Badlands, we barreled on through the night home.
The only significant traffic we hit on this trip home was through Colorado. Coming through Denver and then up to Cheyenne the traffic was heavy and fast, early afternoon Friday rush. It was fairly stressful, and once it cleared out and I was driving through a scenic Wyoming I drove through just last week, I pulled over, handed the steering wheel to Apollo, and crashed.
I did most of the driving home, at Apollo's request. Unlike Terry, who prefers to drive if he's in the car. I did most of the driving yesterday, from 10:30 am Mountain time to 2 am Central Time. Then I crashed and let Apollo drive us up 35 from Albert Lea. I woke up to find us in the Twin Cities, 4 am Sunday, passing a cop who pulled someone over, lights everywhere, signs everywhere, traffic out and about. We had someone riding our ass down 42nd St. Ah, home.
I am a city mouse. The Twin Cities are *small* compared to the Greater San Diego area I grew up in. And yet they are the largest metro in the Midwest. It's somehow comforting to come home to great expanses of concrete, freeway signs, people up and going somewhere in the early hours. I like nature, I do. To visit. Like I like Southern California, to visit. Here is home.
And so I end this travelogue with the lyrics going through my foggy head when I saw familiar freeway signs and the wide open, familiar, multi-lane freeways:
"Take me down to the paradise city where the grass is green and the girls are pretty, Take Me Home!" Ah, Axel Rose, you had quite the incredible voice! And so I hear fast, grinding rock signifying our return to the Cities. Quite appropriate.