A beautiful start out of our Gasthaus sucked us into the day. The first hill we climbed, the Law was waiting for us, or any other motorcycle for that matter, and nailed us for going 65 in a 60. They too profit from this rally!
Shaking off our disappointment in the local lawmen, we once again set out for a promising ride to the Badlands. Winding back roads to the highway freed us from care and a new day opened up before us.
A ride of about 100 miles brought us to Scenic, a true ghost town. Abandoned by its Lakota owner several years ago, the saloon that bears a sign decrying it admits no tribes but Lakota, a jail, an old hotel and an empty gas station are all that remains. Wind blows up the empty street and sage grows between the planks of the boardwalk. A lonely biker waves to us from the open cell door of the jail.
A few more miles and we enter the mouth of the surreal landscape of Badlands National Park. I am now viewing this massive geological display through the eyes of an early Lakota. The spirituality they connected to this place is obvious. To be surrounded by rock formations created over a period of 75 million years gives one an eerie sense of all that has gone before and the ancient energy that has been collected here. Formations rise like cathedrals. Open viewpoints expand the canvas to miles of millenial sculpture. The chills as we folded into each natural work of art were primal and real.
As we wound through the park, the perfect sky was a backdrop to our show. At one point, Jules and I both commented that we had never seen sky so blue - so blue it was black! At our picnic spot on a natural plateau, the wind kicked us hard and the blue/ black sky started advancing. A few more sips of wine, another bite of cheese and we were back on Magic, racing against the wind. Jagged forks of electricity split the sky in front of us, then the road curved and we were facing clear skies. Only a cruel joke because on the next turn it started to pour. Quickly into our rain suits, we sped toward Wall, only 8 miles and a lifetime away. Hail added to the patina of the ride and the signs that dotted the road encouraging us to get a 5 cent cup of coffee at Wall Drug mocked us.
Finally there, we lounged on a sidewalk bench and watched other bedraggled bikers head into town. A hint of clear skies got us back in the saddle and we rode toward Rapid City, following a patch of blue sky between to massive storms. Again, the road took a turn for the worse and we headed into the rain. A rest stop with covered tables afforded us shelter and a chance to finish our aborted lunch.
The weather passed and we rode on. At Rapid City we stopped at the Harley dealer. A venue for vendors of all things motorcycle, the area around the dealership was surrounded by hundreds of tents and tractor trailers hawking everything from boot black to custom bikes. We were on a mission though and we accomplished it neatly. Magic had her oil changed, Jules exchanged his old seat for a new and I had my foot pegs adjusted. All very utilitarian and we left there satisfied.
The road home was a new one that twisted through woods and plains, with few houses and even fewer cars. Our faces into the sun, we traveled west to Sheridan Lake , Hill City and Custer.
Having another lovely dinner on our private balcony, we looked back on the day and our roller coaster ride of events. Our brush with the law, our rainy escape from the Badlands were all part of the day. More importantly that same day granted us ancient mysteries and forest truths, things that life's travelers seek.
Scenic Hotel
Scenic Saloon - Lakota only!
The Pokey in Scenic
Schoolhouse/Biker Bar
The Badlands
Good Man in the Badlands
Even puppies ride!
Vendors waiting for the Rally to begin
Rapid City Harley Davidson
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