The second installment of our exclusive RV travel series for The Independent Travel has just been published, highlighting the second month of our ‘Year on the Road’ from Minnesota to Montana, and including the wildlife-rich Theodore Roosevelt National Park, eye-popping Badlands National Park, and extensive Custer State Park. Check it out on this link:
The more we’ve toured, the more questions we’ve had, but that’s part of the point of travel, isn’t it? The boring stuff you learned in school was the hook on which you hung little bits of information that, hopefully, act as a starting point when you’re out in the world exploring.
Susan had constant flickers of those schooltime factoids when it came to places like South Dakota’s Wounded Knee and the events that happened all across this part of the country, but it was all told through the side that “won.” Simon’s point of reference was Westerns from television and movies. Neither of us felt we had a well-rounded story, and we were eager to learn more.
Our next-door neighbors from back home in Florida have a place in Rapid City, and they were there while we were in town and invited us over for dinner. They do a great deal of work with the tribes, teaching them how to play and appreciate music, and we spent several happy hours in their company, learning more about the local tribes and their history. They recommended a visit to The Journey Museum, and that was our next day’s morning stop.
The museum is thoughtfully presented, and while it includes sections on paleontology, geology, and archeology, we were there primarily for the Native American exhibits.
We’d been told it was difficult to get any kind of reliable history, as the tribes tended not to keep written records in the past, and nobody seemed to agree on what really happened versus what is perceived or idealized to have happened.
Like much of the area’s history, the museum’s Native American and Pioneer sections intersect. It was difficult in most cases to get a well-rounded understanding of the two culture’s realities when they came together or clashed, when the focus is inevitably more on their separate experiences than on a realistic view of “how we got to now.”
Even so, we really enjoyed the museum’s displays, and Susan was especially happy to see women represented as much as men (almost), with a heart-tugging exhibit that featured (in video style) an older woman talking about how girls were welcomed into womanhood within the tribe. She even sang a lullaby. So beautiful.
Today’s scenic drive was Iron Mountain Highway on our way to one of the country’s most iconic sites.
We won’t bore you with the outrageous “shortcut” our GPS took us on to get to Iron Mountain Highway, which was so long we began to wonder if we were already on that highway. Instead, we’ll show you a couple of examples of the grand views we had once we were on the right path again.
Iron Mountain Highway doesn’t end with the view you’re about to see, but WOW! What a spectacular “reveal” for our next destination!
Neither of us ever thought we’d ever be in a position to see Mount Rushmore, and standing there in front of George, Tom, Teddy, and Abe felt just a bit surreal. Considering their human rights records (not you, Abe), we had some mixed feelings before we got there. Once there, we felt a surge of pride and patriotism (in the best sense of that word).
We probably took 40 or 50 photos of the monument itself, but we’ll just share a few here, including a side view of our first President taken from a cut-out along the road once we left the park.
A second drive along Needles Highway was a welcome journey as we made our way down into Custer National Park again, with a stop at one of its visitor centers to get a steer on where to see Bighhorn Sheep (we’d nearly given up on the elk, who, we were told, were spooked by the last few evenings’ thunderstorms and were in hiding), and the docent was right on target with her suggestion.
Squeezing the last drops out of Custer State Park, we drove one side of the Wildlife Loop again on our way back to Hermosa, and buffalo and pronghorn herds’ reliability held up.
But tonight we were treated to a spotting we didn’t expect at all. We watched this coyote for about fifteen minutes as he/she/they hunted, and our patience was rewarded with an up-close view as the coyote came up to the road, gave us a good look, then trotted away.
It wasn’t an elk, but we felt, yet again, we’d been treated to something rare and special. What a great way to cap off a great day!
*That sign that had us wondering what it was trying to communicate is for a little tiny theater in the middle of absolutely nowhere. Cute!
Why were so many places across the country named after a man who lost one of history’s most infamous battles, a battle aimed at genocide of the native peoples? We don’t know, and we’re not in a position to right the historical wrong or re-frame the story, but we will say the State Park named for Lieutenant Colonel George A. Custer, better known as General Custer, is one hellofa fabulous park.
We could yammer on about the rolling hills and the lush greens that splash across the landscape, as if some insane artist with a passion for the verdant is forever in the process of painting and repainting according to the whims of sunlight and clouds.
We could wax poetic about the Black Hills specifically, and we could throw in the fact that “hills that are black” is the English translation of “Pahá Sápa,” from the Lakota language of the Sioux people, and that the Black Hills rightful return to the Sioux Nation is a long-standing, contested issue the Sioux are currently losing.
If we really wanted to get all up in ourselves, we’d casually toss in the utterly self-promoting comment that the book, Paha Sapa: Land of the Gods, mysteriously made it into the queue for The Jungle Cruise at Walt Disney World’s Magic Kingdom park, and therefore into Susan’s third edition of The Hidden Magic of Walt Disney World.
But we won’t spend time on those topics, because on our second full day in Hermosa we were all about animal tracking from the comfort and convenience of our car.
We had been lucky enough to see bighorn sheep in the Badlands, and you’ve already read about our encounters with bison in Theodore Roosevelt National Park, so today we were on a mission to track down a herd of majestic elk.
We entered the park’s Wildlife Loop not far from our campground, and first up on our sightings checklist were the burros, fondly nicknamed the “begging burros” for their willingness to eat whatever you’ve brought them (more accurate than “willingness” is “insistence”). Hence, they’re super friendly, and come right up to you rather than waiting for you to approach them.
Their hearty ancestors were pressed into service nearly a century ago, toting tourists and their paraphernalia up Black Elk Peak from the Sylvan Lake Lodge. Only a small herd is left, but they’ve been roaming wild ever since their forebearers’ tourism-based employment end. Most of them are descendants of the originals, but a few of the burros are donated newcomers.
Having frittered away the morning working, it was well past lunchtime when we found ourselves caught up in another bison jam, so we got out our sandwiches and spent nearly an hour enjoying their wanderings, their playful calves, and one truly peevish specimen who wanted to pick a fight with everyone.
We don’t know what the deal is (probably salt from the roads?), but this herd also had a liking for licking cars, starting with the one parked in front of us. And again, one of the bison gave us the stink-eye through the front window, then spent about five long, long, long minutes alongside Nippy, deciding if it wanted to ram us or just move on.
A certain dog in the back seat was riveted, but this time she didn’t bark. She just sat there making little huffing sounds, clearly aware now that the beasts surrounding us were much bigger than she is.
We moved on when they moved on, and had a lone male on a side road nearly to ourselves as we made our way to Custer, with Needles Highway as our next major adventure.
We did stop at Calamity Jane Coffee Shop in the cute town of Custer to help Simon deal with his lack of caffeine, and while I’m not usually a coffee drinker, I got one anyway and it was honestly the best cup of mocha and Joe I’ve ever had. Sadly, Jane wasn’t on hand that day, but her employee was friendly and the bathroom was clean. Score!
Needles Highway is a 14-mile scenic drive punctuated by the most outrageous granite spires that were pushed up sideways by the forces of nature. Every turn reveals a thrilling aspect, and we goggled at the magnificence and took selfies like the tourists we are.
South Dakota’s governor, Peter Norbeck, mapped out the entire trail that would become Needles Highway on foot and on horseback. It’s so winding, and has so many tight turns, it takes nearly an hour to drive just 14 miles, even longer with stops for panoramic photos. But you want to go slow, because this is prime elk territory, and we’re out for elk sightings today. Right?
There are three tunnels along the highway, carved through the rock by wind, rain, and the area’s harsh winter weather. Each tunnel is impressive, but we’ve never seen a tunnel more impressive than the Needle’s Eye. Nippy is small, but Simon could touch the side of the Eye as we drove through.
We agreed we’d have to come back and do Needles again, next time stopping at the lovely Sylvan Lake for a stroll and a picnic lunch. When we finally did that a couple of days later, the weather suddenly turned freezing cold, and was hammering down with rain and pounding with thunder and lightning, so we sat in the car and had lunch while feeling very, very sorry for a bridal party running through the storm to get to the lake’s reception hall, with all the girls in sheer, sleeveless formalwear and the bride’s veil whipping in the wind.
After Needles we went back to the Wildlife Loop, where the Visitor Center assured us we’d have a chance at spotting elk as dusk came on. Instead, we saw deer and lots of pronghorn, including the wonderful treat of a mama pronghorn and her baby, with daddy not far behind.
We made two more trips into Custer State Park after that, determined we’d see elk, but to no avail. To add insult to injury, a couple we got to chatting with at the campground said they’d seen a herd of elk right on the road the previous evening, at around 6:30 p.m., which was about 15 minutes before we arrived at the same spot that same evening.
Would it take until Yellowstone before we’d see elk, or would South Dakota be kinder to us than that? Either way, what a grand and exciting place for wildlife and for absolutely magnificent scenery. But Custer wasn’t done surprising us yet.
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