Mile 1831.64 - Paha Sapa

Paha Sapa is a Lakota phrase meaning 'Heights that are Black'. Day 24 was now the third morning I woke among the black heights, in my tent in the Oreville picnic shelter. This morning the camp oatmeal tasted a little extra good. I broke camp and headed another 5 miles south to the Crazy Horse memorial. My plan was to first stop at Crazy Horse, then circle back up to Rushmore, then start back east into the badlands. The only problem with the first half of that plan is that it involves dancing 2/3rds of the way around Harney Peak, the tallest point in the state at 7242'.

The Mickelson Trail was again soft from the night before, but I had only a little over 5 miles to go on it. I got to the gates of the memorial, paid my $5 to get in and climbed a couple more hills between the gates and the Visitor's Center. I found a safe place for Penny to hang out, then walked around, learning about the history of the park and much about Lakota culture. The scale of the thing is mindblowing. They are carving a statue out of an entire mountain. There is a 1/34th scale model of the full statue on display and it towers over the people who take their picture under it. It is located in such a way that you can get a clean picture that shows both the finished model and the mountain in progress. There is still a lot more work to be done. Also, In the gift shop, they have these snack bars that are made out of buffalo and cranberries and is really good. Too bad they were like $4 a pop, I would have bought a box.

Crazy Horse is a powerful hero to his people. After a defeat at the hand of the US troops, he was brazenly asked where his lands were now. He pointed at the black hills and replied 'My lands are where my people lie buried.' The statue commemorates that moment. He was later stabbed in the back by a cowardly US soldier under the flag of truce. As impressive as the project is, I had more miles to put on today, so I eventually made my way back up and out of the park.

The road to Rushmore, not 20 miles from Crazy Horse, seemed all uphill. There wasn't a lot of traffic and much of it was motorcycles, which I prefer over cars and trucks. Here it helped that I wanted to stop every few minutes to take more picture as I gave my legs a momentary break. I finally made it to the top and into one of the lines for cars and motorcycles to pay admission. And, apparently, while all motorized traffic is charged, bicycles are completely free. The guy congratulated me on climbing the hill and told me where the was a bike rack at the visitor's center.

I got to the top and there they were, four long dead presidents gazing out past the rim of the black hills into the plains beyond. It was cool, but, compared to Crazy Horse, much less impressive. Also, far more crowded. The four president's heads of Rushmore would fit inside Crazy Horse's head, and that was just one part of the statue. It was still good to see it in person, but when I come back, I'll go to Crazy Horse again, but might just drive by Rushmore.

Then, on the way down the mountain, another part of the story happened. The road down into Keystone is one lane in both directions, but has a nice, smooth 8' wide shoulder. Also, a 10% grade down. I was riding along in the shoulder as usual and a motorcycle pulls alongside me and asked where I started and where I'm going. The couple on the bike were impressed with the answer, but as we hit a flat part of the road, they were going faster, so pulled ahead of me along with several other cars. A minute later though, I passed the 10% grade sign and started to pass the traffic. The speed limit on the road was 35mph and I saw a parks police car parked on the opposite side of the road. I waved to him, as I wave to all emergency vehicles, then passed an RV that was doing about 20 and had the rest of the downhill to myself. I was cruising along near the bottom when I hear a police siren behind me. I looked and it was just the cop and me. Oh great, I thought and pulled over. The cop asked me to dismount and provide some ID. He asked me if I knew that it was illegal to use the shoulder as a passing lane. I responded that it seemed safer for me to be ahead of the slow moving traffic than behind it. After a tense couple minute exchange he walked back to his car with my ID. He slowly sauntered back, starting that since I was going about 35, he wasn't going to give me a ticket for speeding (I wasn't going to mention to him that I clocked myself at 44mph going down the hill. I didn't see how that information would advance the conversation). He then informed me that he could have written me a $250 ticket for passing on the shoulder, but was going to let me go on my way with a warning. After a brief lecture on traffic safety (which I'm going to bet I know more about bicycle safety than he does), he sent me on my way.

As he left, a young man from one of the stores I had stopped in front of came over to ask me what that was all about. He thought that it was pretty stupid and laughed saying that he'd come down that hill at 47mph before and the cops did nothing about it. He, as it turned out, went cross country last year, leaving from LA, going all the way up to Winnepeg, where an uncle lives, then coasting along the southern border of Canada and back into New York. He invited me into the little cafe he and his friends were at, but having just taken my lunch break at the top of the hill and wanting to get east, I turned him down.

On my way through town, I stopped at a gas station to grab a state highway map. There, I ran into the couple on the motorcycle who again asked me why the cop singled me out. 'He wanted you to stay behind the RV?', he exclaimed. "That guy was doing 15, you would have burned out your breaks trying to stay that slow". Yes, exactly. And if, as the cop had supposed, they had trouble and had to slam on their break, it was much safer to be half a mile down the hill from them than sitting behind them in a line of traffic. Yeah, so those are my thoughts on that episode.

The road between Keystone and Hermosa takes you out of the black hills. There were a couple tall grades going up and a couple going down and on one of them, letting gravity just do its work, I actually reset my speed record by a half a mile an hour, going 52.4mph. Glad the cop wasn't around for that. But then finally the land started to level out and, at last, the mountains and hills of the west were now behind me. I also havn't seen any more snow since, and I do hope it stays that way through Brooklyn.

I crossed an upper corner of the badlands, then took about 24 miles of unpaved road to get back up to Highway 44. I crossed through part of the Buffalo Gap National Grasslands too, where there were several people on ATVs ripping tracks through the grass. Thinking back on the land I had covered in the last three days, and Hope in Newcastle was right. I should have just taken 16 into Custer initially from Newcastle, seen Crazy Horse first then taken the Mickelson trail up to Deadwood. Oh well. I could have probably saved myself a day and a half of riding, but now I know better for next time.

After the slowness of the unpaved roads, the highway was again inviting. For the most part I had a nice wide shoulder, but there were a couple points of construction throughout. I had wanted to try to make it to Scenic, but the sun was sinking too quickly for me to make it. I found a nice raised point between a couple of hills and decided to camp there. I wanted to be high up because all the rain of the past several days left large swaths of wet ground in the lower parts and the wet ground was a happy breeding place for all sorts of insects. I got Penny up to the height I wanted and the first thing I did was pull out the bugspray. I quickly put up the tent, would open the door, throw stuff in then pull it shut again immediately, not wanting living things other than myself in the tent. I was successful in that, and, shortly after dark, was treated to another thunderstorm. Thankfully, neither the tent nor bike were struck by lightning, though it was all quite muddy in the morning.

There was another Lakota phrase I picked up on during the day, Wamakaognaka E'cante, The Heart of Everything that Is. I can easily see how they'd feel that. This may have been my first time to the Black Hills, but I intend for it to not be my last.

Day 24, Oreville Camp - Camp 10 miles northwest of Scenic, SD
81.14 miles in 7:30:28. That brings me to 1831.64 miles for the trip in 155:41:43 and a shiny new top speed of 52.4mph. I highly doubt I'll break 50 again.