Yes, it's been a mild winter in western South Dakota this year - but not that mild. This blog will cover a half-day ride at the end of October of 2024, months before the Oregon trip I chronicled last. I know, it's been a long time since then. Guess these photos got stuffed into the wrong drawer. Consider this a proverbial blast from the literal past.
I began by heading south on Highway 79, toward the Nebraska border. Before I got that far, I turned west onto a gravel road and aimed for the Black Hills. As you can see, the weather was mostly cloudy, but temperatures were not too cool.
"Is dumping debris in the roadway really a problem here?" I wondered, as I read the sign. I'd purposely taken the most remote route to Wind Cave National Park that I could find. Perhaps I'd strayed too far. The rocked surface was very nice, though.
I took this hairpin junction to follow Red Valley Road up the hill. Traffic was quite light. Obviously, the landscape is predominantly grasslands with scattered stands of pine. In the summer, there's a lot more color, but it can also get uncomfortably hot. October is fine by me!
A stone pillar and a diminutive sign met me at the Wind Cave boundary. I'd been into the 34,000-acre park before but not through this back entrance. And this time, I planned to traverse most of its unpaved routes before exiting at the north edge.
The tourist shop T-shirt version of this sign reads, "Don't pet the fluffy cows." It's good advice, but fairly frequently there are still wildlife encounters here and in neighboring Custer State Park that do not end well. That is, they don't end well for the tourist.
Gaining elevation, I approached a grove of ponderosa. The park roads were not as wide and well-maintained as the county roads below, but they were well within Ryker's wheelhouse. We were both enjoying ourselves immensely.
This hilltop parking area provided long distance views in every direction! Here, I'm looking east toward the Dakota plains.
This is more north to northwest, I believe. And there is a cave underneath somewhere, as the park's name would suggest. Kim and I have driven to the entrance and visitor center, but there were other things to do that day - and every day since. Maybe when it opens for the season this year.
I think we've already had this view - but not so close in on Ryker's dashingly handsome face.
And here's one for Mother. Most may find it hard to recognize me in my helmet and over-sized glasses - but she still can.
If four photos from the same location is enough for the rest of you, we'll move on.
Before I'd descended the hill, I encountered my first of two buffalo herds that day. I count eight. I believe the rest are trees. I remained on the trike, and they were content to keep their distance too.
A sturdy little bridge awaited me at the base of the ridge. Good thing that center section was there. Lining up all three wheels on one of the longitudinally planked wings would have been challenging.
At this point, I shouldn't have been too far from the pavement. It was still early in the day, however. I'd have to find a longer way home.
