One thing I really wanted to do on this trip was minimize back tracking or driving the same road multiple times. It seems like that has sufficiently failed during my time in South Dakota, but I can’t say I’m terribly mad. Also, given that I’ve stayed in the southwest corner of the state for the whole week, it was pretty much inevitable.
Cascade Falls was a nice place to sit and eat breakfast, though nothing insanely beautiful to call home about. I wandered north to Wind Cave National Park for another cave tour, embracing natures air-conditioning. The ranger selling me the ticket warning that its 53 degrees down there, my t-shirt and shorts probably not sufficient. I smiled and thanked her for the advice.
But, I had arrived late, and with nearly an hour to kill, it seemed appropriate timing to relax in my car and do some writing, free time like this rare. I still find it hard to do nothing. Always having to be productive in some fashion, working towards something, however whimsical or wacky. With a partial blog written, and camera in hand, I sauntered over to the tour staging area with the rest of the group. It’s only then that I noticed my camera battery was nearly dead. Crap.
With not enough time to make it to my car and back, I just dealt with it, making sure to keep my camera off as much as possible. But the flash takes its toll on the batter, and just a few minutes in, it was at emergency red levels. But, I was here to enjoy the cave, photos or not. The tour was more of a self-guided walk with 3 pit stops along the way to gather and talk. But the Wind Cave was far different from the Jewel Cave I had seen earlier in the week, even though it was just 30 miles North West of here. The tour quickly and abruptly came to an end. A fun cave, I still miss actual caving and its miserable fun.
Scampering up the elevator and to the parking lot, I found my route through Nemo up to Sturgis along a (mostly) new path and set off. Part of the path was in Custer State Park. I knew that I was able to cut East/West before without paying my first born child for a day pass, and assumed the same would be true of the North/South road.
I was wrong.
Upon hitting the mid-point, I was informed that I would have to pay for a day pass, even if I were to just pass through. It’d be nice if any of this was marked on the map that was located at every visitor center around. A bit annoyed, I flipped a U and headed for Custer to then go north. Not 5 minutes later, I glance down to check my speed when I notice the check engine light is on.
WHAT. THE. FUCK?!
Panicked, I find the next pull off, shut down the car, and tear through the owner’s manual to see what the problem is and if I could fix it. The solution, as told by the manual, was to “immediately go to a dealership for inspection.” Neither excited nor thrilled, I headed towards Custer to figure out if a local shop could help. Knowing my way around there quite well, I b-lined for the visitor center and their free wifi. But upon entering, Fred, the fine fellow that helped me earlier in the week helped me once again.
Fred, If you ever read this, thank you so much for your help both now, and before. Auto shop found, and only a stone’s throw away, I found an available mechanic. He popped open the diagnostic reader, threw it into the car and read my fate. From all the driving on the dirt road, dust had gotten around my gas cap, the only solution was to take a rag and wipe it clean. Relieved at such a simple fix, I thanked the man, payed him, cleaned up and went on my way.
The drive north through Nemo to Sturgis was unbelievably beautiful. Through winding roads surrounded by lush green trees only to open up into giant parries and have the trees swoop back in. A small piece of heaven out here in the middle of the Black Hills National Forest, I could only imagine how tough it must be in the winters, but how fun it must be in the summers.
Sturgis came quick, and a quick stop at a gas station gave me a town map. Only 6 o’clock, I decided it was time to finally relax and move a little, my butt sore from all the miles of the past two days. The local park and a slack line would surely remedy the issue. I set up the line near a group playing games, but far enough to be secluded and more importantly, in a good amount of shade. After a few minutes of set up and walking, it felt good to slack line, a meditative feeling.
Soon, a little girl from the group wandered over, only 8 years old, she wanted to hang under the line and crawl across. Quickly changing her mind and liking more to sit on it and bounce up and down. We spoke or just basic stuff, she only 8 after all, when quickly adults showed up. I, being a random older male in a park, and her a young girl, I’m sure they feared the worst. It turned out to be a church group just doing prayers and play time. Quickly the adults found the girls grandma, and she had to go, looking saddened. A few of the interns came over, a bit closer to my age now, we chatted and they tried to slack line, having no luck, but plenty of fun. They thanked me and went back to their duties.
Feeling happy and acquainted with the group, I made the line a bit more accessible to the kids by lowering and tightening it before wandering over and offering it to anyone who was interested. The kids’ faces lit up right away and within seconds a line had formed to give it a try. I had made it look so easy (yeessss) but they quickly found it wasn’t. I helped all who wanted a go at it to stand up and walk the distance. Some kids fared much better than others. Some unfortunately feeling the snap of the line as they fell.
They thanked me for the fun time, their time limit at the park over, and headed back to their vans. I walked a few more lines before feeling it time to find home for the night. The interns had called me a “gypsy” when I told them of my plans, a new word to add to the ever growing list of ways to identify my trip and who I am with it.
Home was again found in the forest, this time I lucked out and chose a road that was meant to have camp sites. A spot easily chosen, I made a quick dinner on the stove and read for a bit before the sun fell. As the last of the light faded, some writing felt like a good way to round off another day. The plans set for my final day in South Dakota.