Breakfast was nutritious and free (motel donuts and coffee). I did the chain wax thing, added about 1/10 quart of Mobil 1, and headed East on I-90. My original plan was going to be Devil's Tower, Mount Rushmore, then up into North Dakota. I'd toyed with the idea of visiting Minnesota too, so the whole day was going to be sort of an "undecided and flexible" day. Adding a swing out to Minnesota on this trip was probably too optimistic a plan, and I was starting to have second thoughts about that. My desire to "see it all" was tempered by the knowledge that Glacier National Park would require at least a full day of my time, and I was unsure of the time necessary to traverse Washington, not to mention the Oregon and the California Coast. Always a procrastinator, a firm decision was reached to delay the decision until after Mount Rushmore.
Just outside of Sheridan I left the superslab for Highway 14. The scenery improved dramatically, with miles and miles of pretty farms and lush green ranch land. After little more than an hour of travel, I saw Devils Tower off in the distance. It is quite startling to see it just sticking up there above the surrounding scenery.
"Close Encounters of the Third Kind" was one of my favorite movies, and I was thrilled to be able to visit the "tower" in person. Since it is a National Monument, there is an entrance fee ($3.00 for a bike). If you make the trip yourself, keep your eyes open! Shortly after you exit the toll booth there's a sign that you may never see anywhere else. It is basically a standard yellow diamond shaped highway warning sign, except that instead of "deer xing", or "school xing", it says "prairie dog xing", with a prairie dog silhouette. Initially I assumed it was some kind of a joke, but soon, off to my left, there they were!! A large expanse of prairie dog mounds. Fascinated, the next 30 minutes were spent watching and photographing the little critters.
I'd read articles about their behavior, and it was really something to watch them close up like that. They really do make a little high pitched squeal that sounds somewhat like barking. Unfortunately I didn't get a picture of that sign. Someone please e-mail me a JPEG of that sign someday. Sure would appreciate it.
The Tower itself is worth the trip. As far as I know there's nothing quite like it anywhere else. It's the core of an ancient volcano, basically all that's left after eons of erosion. Most of my photography efforts here were disappointing. The late morning lighting was very plain from my vantage point, and I didn't have the time to waste to hike all the way around to the other side. Despite this, I was glad to have made the trip.
Exiting the Monument, I returned to 14, then stopped in Sundance and gassed up (36.8 MPG). My map showed a small state road existed which would save me some time, so I turned on SR 585. The rumbling of my stomach was reminding me of my earlier unsatisfactory breakfast, so I stopped in a tiny little town called Four Corners. The proprietor's of the little general store there promised the best hamburger for miles around. There's no way I'm going to pass that up. It was good, and I suppose they were right, since there was apparantly no other place to get a hamburger for "miles around". In their restroom they have a sign posted with an itemized list of the cost of sinking a well and pumping the water up to the bathroom, in an effort to remind the city folks not to leave the faucet running needlessly. I never realized that it could cost upwards of 20,000 dollars just to flush and wash. Makes my 35 dollar a month water & sewage bill look reasonable by comparison.
From Four Corners I went down Highway 85, then turned East on Highway 16. This turned out to be one more in a long list of beautiful scenic roads. Hiway 16 goes through the Black Hills National Forest and into Custer, South Dakota. In Custer, the roads go off in 5 different directions. After a gas (35.6 MPG) and stretch break I was back on 16, then followed the signs to Mount Rushmore. Normally I avoid major tourist attractions on the weekend, but there was no way to avoid it today. Arriving at Mount Rushmore around noon felt like pulling in to Disneyland. There were large parking lots (5 bucks to park), and more under construction. The pictures you see of Rushmore don't show you the ugly tourist side of the place, complete with huge granite steps, gift shops, restaraunts, the whole package! You can even take helicopter rides to get close. It won't be long before they have roller coasters going through Jefferson's nose!
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With patience and the right equipment it is possible to get some decent photo's without the surrounding structures or crowds, so I snapped around a dozen and made my exit. I don't think I'll ever go back. It turned out to be my least favorite stop on the trip.
At this point the decision was made to alter my plans. Abandoned was any thoughts of heading further east to Minnesota (I'll pass that way someday on my way to Niagara Falls). Also eliminated was the rest of South Dakota and all of North Dakota (nothing personal, Dakotans). My new route would take me through Sturgis (I know, it's way too early to visit Sturgis, but I didn't want to see 50,000 Harleys anyway), then passing through Wyoming on I-90 again on the way to Montana. This route would take me through Billings & Great Falls, plus, Little Big Horn. It would also eliminate a day or two of basically flat interstate riding. Seeing the Badlands would have been nice, but I'm sure I'll do it again some day.
Somehow I managed to take the wrong road, and ended up going through Rapid City. No offense to the people there, but it's a dump, even in June. What a depressing place to live in. Must be a real joy in Winter! I'll bet even the snow is ugly there. I reached Sturgis around 3:00 PM and pulled into the "World Famous International Motorcycle Museum". Another disappointment! There are some interesting classic Harley's, and a small sample of other makes and models, but all in all not that much to see. Worst of all is the condition of the bikes. Most of them look like they just came out of someone's woodshed or backyard. Not much restoration going on there. In their defense it's probably expensive as hell to restore that Classic Iron, and they probably don't make a whole hell of a lot of money except during that one period in the Summer when the plague of Harley's descends on the town. I didn't spend any more time in Sturgis. After the museum, Vader and I headed out of town.
Cruising into Spearfish, SD, I started feeling a strange vibration from the front end. I couldn't pin it down. It felt like the highway surface was the cause, but changing speeds or lanes didn't seem to help. Off to my left I saw a Honda dealer (They're everywhere!!). I took the next off ramp (which immediately cured the vibration problem), gassed up (45 MPG), then pulled into the dealership. Seemed like a friendly place to take a small break. Besides, I'd had been toying with the idea of installing a throttle lock or anything else that would accomplish the same task.
Ergonomically, the Nighthawk 750 seems to have been made for me. Everything is in the right place, the seat seems designed for my slightly wide 42 year old butt, and the distances to the pegs and bars is fine, but even so, riding long distances day after day takes its toll. I don't know where everyone else gets sore, but for me, the right wrist and the upper back and neck areas are the worst. All of the other sore spots were alleviated by moving around on the seat, leaning back against the clothes bag and cruising, or leaning forward on the tank bag and sport riding, or just plain sitting straight up, but the one pain I couldn't shake was my right wrist. You can't get around the need to have the right hand on the handgrip. It seemed to me that with a throttle lock, I might be able to ride forever. The friendly folks at Spearfish Honda/Yamaha couldn't find a wrist rest that would fit my grip, but they did have a throttle lock laying around. They informed me that some dealers won't install these because of the liability (damned lawyers), but I promised I wouldn't sue them (if I hit something with a locked full throttle I probably wouldn't be around to sue anyway). They put it on for just $27.95, including parts & labor. What a deal. While the installation was in progress, I had an opportunity to ogle all of the new Honda's (my favorite pastime), and B.S. a little with the owner. He was amazed that I hadn't been rained on. Me too. It seemed that I was always just ahead of the bad weather. Except for some vicious headwinds going through Wyoming earlier in the week it had been perfect weather so far. After a 3 second class on the operation of the little gizmo, I said my goodbyes and was back on the road.
Once back on the interstate, I immediately set that sucker at 85MPH and tucked in my right arm. It sure felt good. Since it was only 5:00 PM, I planned on riding all the way up into Montana. The miles pass quickly at 85 mph, and soon I was back in Gillette for a gas stop (31.3 MPG). The Sky was getting dark ahead. It sure looked like my luck was about to run out. Always the optimist, I told myself "a little rain never hurt anyone" and pressed on. The distant skys grew darker and more ominous, and off in the distance were dazzling lightning displays, but surprisingly, no raindrops. I toyed with the idea of stopping and spending the night in Buffalo, but couldn't see stopping while still dry and light remained. Besides, I kind of like thunder and lightning. About ten miles west of Buffalo my luck ran out. The wind kicked up big time, the thunder and lightning grew closer, then the rain gods took aim and unloaded on me. I would have been fine if I had my raingear lowers, but they were sitting in my bedroom back in Hayward. The next hour was fun in a sick sort of way.
Maybe I'm a little strange, but I tend to view those few really miserable moments in life with a sense of humor, something to laugh about later when you're dry and cozy. My chaps, butt, and gloves were soaking wet. My helmet held up OK. It's not full face, just a 3/4 with a snap on visor, but it was modified for wet weather. The first week on my bike I'd rode home in an unexpected storm at night, and was damn near riding blind due to the gap between the helmet and the visor. Water in your face sucks when you wear glasses. so I cut a piece of foam pipe insulation to fit in the space, cut some holes for the snaps, and it provided instant waterproofing. Didn't even need glue.
The lightning ceased to be fun. I was the tallest thing out there, and it was getting closer. You're supposed to be safe in your car, but I wasn't sure if the same holds true on a bike. Since overpasses were non-existant, my only course of action was to keep moving. A moving target would be harder to hit. After about 45 minutes of high winds and driving rain, I pulled into the first available gas station in Sheridan. What a mess! My chaps were soaked, and my jeans were even wetter. I stayed there commiserating with the clerk until it let up a bit, mopped up my puddle, then made a quick dash through town to find a cheap motel. After checking in, I unloaded everything to see what if anything was wet. My RKA bags held up well. Everything inside them was dry. They'd received two coats of Scotchguard, so that didn't surprise me. My cheap soft suitcase turned out to be much less waterproof than it appeared. Most of the clothes inside were wet, but they were all dirty, so I didn't care. It was laundry day anyway. A short search turned up a laundromat, and while the laundry was going, I dashed across the parking lot for a little Chinese food. I had misgivings about eating Wyoming Chinese food. The SF Bay Area is the greatest place in the entire universe for aficianados of Asian food, so I am picky. My fears were justified. Although the food was prepared decently, the type and variety was limited to your basic "American Chinese Food". The usual bland stuff; Chow Mein, Fried Rice, Egg Foo Yung, and the ever present hot garbage called Chow Mein. Being hungry, I ate it anyway. It was a welcome change from pizza, fast food, and MRE's, but my palate prefers spicier food.
Shortly after my return to the laundromat, the sky really opened up. It rained buckets for around an hour or so. When it eased up I threw everything back on the bike and went back to the motel. I drifted off to sleep to the accompaniment of a steady drip, drip, drip from a few roof leaks.
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