Cut 'em out, Ride 'em in

Friday, September 25

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! At 3:30 AM the alarm sounds and five groggy women stagger out of bed, throw on some clothes, and pile into the White Torpedo for the 50th Annual Buffalo Roundup! The gates don't open until 6:15, but we want to get there early to beat the crowd. It's only a short drive to the south gate, so when we arrive there are only 17 cars ahead of us. Like us, they turn off their lights and go back to sleep for a couple hours. When the gates open and everyone turns on their headlights, we see a line of cars stretching behind us as far as we can see. Our strategy paid off! We get a great spot in the parking lot and sprint to the top of the south hill, which we have been told is the best viewing place.

Sunrise

After selecting a likely spot, we stake our claim, spread out the bedding, and settle in for the wait. It's crisp and cool in the pre-dawn hours, and it feels good to snuggle under the sleeping bags and blankets. The roundup doesn't begin for at least another 3 hours, and our original plan is to sleep some more.  But there is so much going on that sleep has become the last thing on our minds. The lure of breakfast reels in Dawn and Tiff, and they return with giant, tasty pancakes and delicious sausages for all. The crowd is excited and cheerful, and soon we are making friends with those around us. Someone dubs us the slumber party for all our blankets, sleeping bags, and pillows.

In the row behind us are the Sage family - two brothers and their sister from Ohio- and we strike up a conversation about farming, traveling, people, and all sorts of topics. Like a lot of folks we've met so far, they seem fascinated by the thought of five women traveling without men. Funny, it doesn't seem strange to us at all - we've always been an independent bunch! As the sun rises, it starts to warm up and we throw off the blankets. Cars continue to roll in, and the crowd get bigger and bigger. There's an amusing exchange between some blonde chick a couple rows back who asks Gin if she would move elsewhere to smoke. Deadpan, Gin simply answers, "No." The blonde gets a stricken expression on her face, and when Gin tells her, "There are 50,000 acres and here I am," she realizes she's met her match and moves away. Of course, everyone cracks up, and the Sage's join in. They're definitely kindred spirits. Am I a bad person for finding this exchange so humorous?

Just waiting!

Cowboys begin to ride by. Dawn and I categorize them as to whether they are in her age range or mine. She gets 45 and under; I get 46 and over. We call 'dibs' on the good-looking ones, and peer at them through binoculars. The sun rises higher and a layer of clothing comes off.

The gates ares supposed to close at 9:15, but we can still see a row of vehicles snaking their way to the North hill. A yelling contest ensues between the north and south hills. They shout, and we shout back. 20,000 people can make quite a bit of noise! The five of us make even more noise when we see Harry drive by - we shout and wave, and when he finds us in the crowd he waves back. It gets hotter and hotter. We shed more layers until we're all barefoot and in tank tops. The morning's mood turns somber when Deb gets word that Vega, her beloved pit bull,  is not doing well and must be put down. It's so difficult to lose a pet, and Vega was such a good dog. Goodbye, pretty girl. :-(

Vega 

It's almost 11:00 when a stir passes through the spectators. Here they come! The herd of buffalo streams down from the hills, chased by yipping cowboys. The crowd goes wild! Hundreds of buffalo moving en masse are a thrilling sight, straight out of the wild wild west. The herd passes directly in front of us, headed for a strip of trees where they are to turn left and cross the road to the holding corral. It all appears to be going according to plan, when about a third of the herd makes a break for it and cuts back in the direction it came from. And disappears. Seriously, hundreds of buffalo vanish before our eyes. They've dropped into a swale between two hills, then reappear just as suddenly. The cowboys race ahead and get them pointed back toward the treeline. By now, the main part of the herd has crossed the road like they're supposed to. But the rebels are milling around in the trees, and once again sprint off across the valley, this time trying a different direction.

Many of the spectators are leaving; we can see a steady stream of cars leaving the north hill. But this is getting good! The escaped herd is racing up a slope, cowboys in hot pursuit.  It's amazing to watch - the buffalo are running at full speed and not only are they extremely fast but can turn on a dime as well. While they sprint one way, confused pronghorn are bounding in the opposite direction where a fence blocks their escape route. Will they jump? No! They do a tight about-face and beat a hasty retreat. Harry was right! Meanwhile at the top of the hill, the cowboys finally get the lead cow to stop. They let the buffalo mill about until they calm a little, then bring them down. This time they're successful, and the herd crosses the road to join the rest.

Wow! That was simply awesome! The branding and sorting doesn't take place until 1:00, so we have time for a picnic lunch by the van while we wait. People stop by and chat, usually asking where our menfolk are. Roundup veterans tell us this is the best one ever. Although the buffalo came into the valley slower than normal, they usually go into the corral without any trouble. This year's escapees made it much more exciting. We agree - those people who left early missed a great spectacle! After lunch, we take a shuttle bus to the corrals for the next phase of the roundup.

The herd is resting in a large holding corral. At one end, chutes and smaller pens are ready for the sorting. We take a seat on bleachers with the holding pens behind us.The fences are reinforced with highway guardrails. These animals are strong! A group of about two dozen buffalo are driven into the holding pen, but there is a big bull in among them and he has to be removed. Bulls are too mean and unpredictable to handle, so are for the most part left on the range. Some do get mixed in with the cows and calves, so must be sorted off. A small tractor with a metal grate on the front is used to push some of the animals - including the bull - back out. The larger group moves into the next corral with the encouragement of an ingenious winged gate on the front of a tractor. A group of about eight run into a small pen, and the fun begins.

Each of the buffalo must enter a narrow passageway; a gate is closed behind each one until it it his or her turn in the chute. This does not go well. They are strong, mad, and not used to being confined. Numerous attempts are made to drive some buffalo through the gate, but they keep milling and circling back. The little flags flapping in their faces are completely ineffective; so are the sticks used to pop them on the backside. Finally the cattle prods come out. That gets their attention! Finally a few are confined, but that makes them even madder. They kick and thrash and leap, the metal gates banging and crashing with the buffalo's fury, dust flying. Farm girls all, we are enjoying the rodeo.

We change position to sit on the fence where we can see the head gate and keep an eye out for Kevin Costner. The chute used for buffalo is pneumatic, with a closed box in front. The animal enters, the sides squeeze in, the neck is closed into the head gate, and the box is raised so the head is now accessible and the vet can work. Most of the animals are sent right back out onto the range after their ear tags are recorded and a pregnancy check done. Some are driven into holding pens and will be sold at the fall auction, since the range can only support around 1,500 buffalo. This year's calves, which have been diverted to different chute, are branded, vaccinated and wormed before being let loose to rejoin the herd. They don't stick around, that's for sure. Once turned out, they flee the area quickly.

Although the day has turned hot, we hang around and watch for a long time. It is fascinating to watch these wild animals up close, and see how strong and fast they are. If this were football, working cattle would be like high school, but working buffalo would be like the NFL!

Sunburnt, dusty, and exhausted, we return to Blue Bell. We never did see Kevin Costner! Although it is only 4:00, our bodies tell us it is much later. Gin starts a fire, and we take a short walk into the hills around camp. Just a few steps from the cabins, the land belongs to the wildlife. Buffalo and deer trails lead off in all directions; there is plenty of fresh poop. Evidence of an old forest fire are evident, as are some of the pyramids of logs and brush Harry told us were firebreaks, cut by the Forest Service and stacked by the inmates from Rapid City to light if needed to stop a forest fire. It's so peaceful and quiet here. Our state and national parks are treasures; places where generations to come can witness nature in its original state. I'm so lucky to be here!

Dinner is sausage and pepperoni calzones cooked over the fire. Although it is a gorgeous night, no one can keep their eyes open after the excitement of the day and the early wake-up call. We planned to organize a little for packing the van in the morning, but no one has the energy. By 8:30, we're all in bed with dreams of cowboys, Indians, and wild buffalo running through our heads. Goodnight, Custer State Park employees and volunteers. What a great day you've given us!

Crazy Owl & Crazy Horse

Thursday, September 24

We wake to another glorious day. The sun is shining in a sapphire sky, and the temperature is headed toward 75. After a piping hot breakfast - a scramble of eggs, sausage, potatoes, and cheese in the crock pot - we pack our coolers for lunch and head out for the Buffalo Roundup Arts Festival.

The grandeur of the yesterday's buffalo safari is still on everyone's mind, so we listen to the 'Dances With Wolves' soundtrack as we drive. Discussion is all about the buffalo, South Dakota, the west, and our passion for these topics. We couldn't have assembled a better group for this western adventure. It speaks to our souls, and touches us on a primal level somehow. Growing up with John Wayne, Louis L'Amour, the Cartwrights, and Tell Sacket as our heroes, we have imprinted on that lifestyle like a baby animal imprints on its mother.

We've seen a lot of wildlife here in Custer: buffalo, pronghorn, mule and whitetail deer, turkeys, prairie dogs, mustangs, rabbits, and ground squirrels; this morning we add another to our list - a Bighorn Sheep is grazing by the side of the road. We are also starting to see more people here in the park since the roundup takes place tomorrow. I guess we don't have the park all to ourselves any more!

The Arts Festival is just getting underway when we arrive. It is held in a meadow full of buffalo chips - this is obviously a favorite grazing area for them when it's not filled with EZ-Ups and tents. Artisans and craftsmen display their wares, many with Native American or western themes. Strolling through the booths, I pick up a pair of buffalo tooth earrings. Everyone shops at different rates, so we split off into smaller groups. Like most arts and craft shows, there is a mix of the exquisite and the mundane. Deb and I make our rounds, contemplating some potential purchases, and take a seat in the main tent to wait for rest of our group.

Art Festival Purchases

A text comes in from Dawn, "We are checking to see if the Torpedo has a hitch. Gin found a buffalo head!" What?! We assemble under the tent and discuss the possilities. No, the Torpedo (the HildeVan's alter ego) doesn't have a hitch, but somehow, we'll get it home. Before we leave the vendor's booth, not only do we have to make room for a mounted buffalo head, but we also have to fit in 3 buffalo skulls and an elk horn! Maybe this is one of the reasons we're the Crazy Owl tribe!

After all the shopping drama, we relax and watch a presentation about Black Hills raptors. The most exciting bird is the Ferruginous Hawk. These hawks are from the open prairie where trees are scarce, which means they build nests on the ground so are susceptible to predators. Therefore, they have evolved a survival strategy of attack first and ask questions later. Known as one of the most aggressive and dangerous raptors in the world, they have been known to knock cowboys off their horses by attacking from behind with their  powerful talons. Ferruginous Hawks are the badasses of the raptor world!

After winning blue ribbons in the Buffalo Chip Flip (yes, that is exactly what it sounds like!), we eat a picnic lunch before loading our buffalo head and skulls into the Torpedo and heading back to Blue Bell. Everyone crashes into bed for a power nap. It's not a long one, because we need to make dinner before our nighttime activities. Tonight we have time for a campfire meal - Hawaiian brats and beans. Why does everything taste so much better when it's cooked and eaten outdoors?

Dusk finds us at Crazy Horse Monument. None of us had any idea that it consists of much more than a carving on a mountain. The complex contains an Indian Museum, an Indian University and Medical Training Center, and a Native American Cultural Center. The beautiful museum houses a vast array of Native American artifacts, arts, and crafts.  A short film telling the story of the monument leaves us in awe of the power of one man's dedication. Korczak Ziolkowski
began carving the mountain single-handedly, a sculpture destined to be the largest in the world. Although it will be years before it is finished, the Indian people will have a lasting memorial that tells the world their message: "We would like the white man to know that the red man has great heroes, too." After dark, a laser light show plays onto the surface of the carved mountain, bringing the story of Crazy Horse and Ziolkowski to life. The finale, a laser outline of the finished piece overlying over the existing carving, is stunning.

Back at Blue Bell, we hurriedly pack a cooler for the roundup tomorrow and lay out our clothes. A weary bunch tumbles into beds, with alarms set for 3:30 am. Crazy Owl tribe says goodnight!

Where The Buffalo Roam

Wednesday, September 23

It's a misty, moisty morning when we wake up today. The tops of the hills surrounding the campground are shrouded in fog, and the damp air makes the pines extra fragrant. We are having a lazy morning, and spend some time reorganizing and cleaning the cabin. Since the weather isn't great for sightseeing, we head into Custer for some shopping. We find some cute shops; our favorites are

Dawn Raccoon Whisperer

the Claw, Antler & Hide store where Dane bought his buffalo ball sac 2 years ago, and a rock  shop where I splurge on some colorful slag glass. The clerk laughs at me while I browse, saying I am in the classic rock-hound's posture - head down and butt up! I love rock shops! Deb and I spend some time at a coffee shop that has WiFi so we can work on our blogs while Gin, Tiff, and Dawn eat lunch.

By 1:00 the sun has broken through and the sky is a dazzling blue. Needles Highway, here we come! This highway winds and climbs through some spectacular scenery, providing us with some great photo stops. The aspen leaves are just starting to turn yellow at the higher elevations, a sharp contrast to the dark green pines. When we reach the granite spires called the Needles, there is some excitement. A tour bus seems to be jammed in the tunnel! He inches his way forward and finally emerges to applause and cheers from the gawking crowd. We are laughing as we leave, wondering what he is going to do at the next tunnel, which is even smaller. I'm thinking he won't have his job long!

YeeHaw!

Tonight we've signed up for a Buffalo Safari and Chuckwagon Cookout. We receive cowboy hats and bandannas and a driver named Harry; we're riding in an extended jeep with no sides so we can see everything. As we ride along, Harry tells us about the park's history and points out interesting sights. He's from Texas, from near the town where Tiff used to live. They strike up a conversation about all the places they both know in Texas. Our first wildlife sighting is pronghorn, the second fastest land animal on earth. Second only to the cheetah, pronghorns are built for speed, not for jumping. They cannot jump fences, but must crawl beneath them. A male and his harem are resting near a water tank; Harry drives as near as he can so we are able to get a close look. The buck has dark patches on his temples that are scent glands. He rubs these on the tops of weeds, marking his territory. We pass by the park airport, and the corrals where the buffalo will be herded on roundup day. Harry is a great guide, full of information and able to answer all our questions. We strike out on a dirt road, and shit suddenly gets real.

Bumping through a creek and across a meadow, we top a small rise and there they are! The buffalo herd that will be stampeded on Friday has already been assembled in this valley, having been gathered all month for this week's activities. The whole herd is moving toward a water hole, and Harry takes us right into their path where we sit and watch and listen in total and complete awe as they amble past.

There are not enough words in the world to describe this spectacle. Hundreds of buffalo - bulls, cows, and calves - surround us, just inches away. Remember the scene in 'Dances With Wolves' where John, Kicking Bird, and Wind In His Hair are lying on top of a ridge looking down into a valley scouting the buffalo  herd? Well, we are in that valley in the middle of the herd! Close your eyes, imagine that scene, insert us, and you might begin to understand what it was like. It was as if we'd stepped back in time 150 years, and if Indians had come racing down the hill on their ponies it would have somehow seemed entirely appropriate.

As if this spectacle isn't perfect enough, a group of cowboys appear on the skyline, silhouetted by the setting sun. Yipping and popping their bullwhips, they gallop down and cut out a group of buffalo, so close to us that they tell us not to move for a few minutes as they move the animals away. In just moments they are headed down the valley. Harry tells us that these buffalo are the ones that will be in the corrals for the public to watch being branded  and sorted on Friday, and that he has never witnessed the cutting of the herd before. We are so extremely lucky to be in the right place at the right time. Incredible. Wonderful. Awesome. Epic. As I said, there are simply not enough words to describe this properly.

On our way to the chuckwagon cookout, Harry takes us where most people aren't allowed to go. We follow a service road high into the hills, off-roading to a spot where we can see for miles. The valley spreads out far beneath us; the mountain range stretching to the horizon. The view is breathtaking! And believe it or not, we see another buffalo herd that hasn't yet been driven down into the holding valley. Unfortunately, a locked gate stands between us and them. We enjoy the view of both buffalo and landscape before moving on to our next destination.

Dinner is served in yet another picturesque mountain valley. We arrive to chuckwagons and picnic tables, the smell of grilled meat hanging in the air. Two cowboy entertainers sing while we get our plates of steak, potato salad, coleslaw, beans, watermelon, cornbread, and a cookie. Everything is just delicious, and we sing along with the cowboys. After dinner, everyone dances the Hokey Pokey and Chicken Dance to warm up for the trip back to our cars. We shout an echoing 'Yeehaw' to the hills before loading back into the Jeep. It is a perfect ending to a perfect day.

During the drive back to Blue Bell, all we can talk about is the buffalo. None of us will ever forget this magnificent, wonderful, incredible day. Thanks, Harry, and goodnight!

Wild Horses

Tuesday, September 22

The crock pot is working out great on this trip! Last night, Jambalaya was waiting when we returned to camp; this morning, the smell of Blueberry French Toast wakes us up. We need to get on the road early since we have reservations at the Wild Horse Sanctuary in Hot Springs. Unfortunately, we miscalculate a little as to how long it will take to get there on twisty, winding roads, and as we get closer we realize we are going to be a few minutes late. Deb makes a phone call and reschedules us to 11:00, so now we have some time to kill.

Hot Springs is a sleepy little town full of buildings made of limestone blocks hewn from a nearby quarry in the late 1800's. A sign pointing to a Pioneer Museum leads us to the top of a hill where one of the block buildings overlooks the town. It is a treasure! Formerly a school, it now houses a great collection of artifacts from the town's history, from Indian times to the present. The building itself has beautiful, old woodwork and windows; the floor plan is wonderful with offices looking out over a central court and wide, wooden stairways. We browse the eclectic mix of artifacts, both laughing and cringing while imagining having to endure the torture of early washing machines, stoves, medical and dental procedures, and hair styling apparatus. The top floor is off-limits to the public so of course we sneak up the stairs and check it out. It is a huge attic room with gorgeous domed windows; some remodeling is underway but there's not much else to see there. Downstairs, some scary-looking guy is wandering around; we give him the side-eye and steer clear. Other than that, it is a fantastic museum. Definitely worth the stop!

Just a short drive from the town of Hot Springs is the Black Hills Wild Horse Sanctuary. The brochure describes it so much better than I can: "Imagine a place where as far as the eye can see, miles and miles to the horizon, you can view America as it was 300 years ago. Imagine a place, long revered by the American Indians, where the Cheyenne River flows in all four directions and eagles' shadows sweep rock canyon walls, a place where wild horses run free across endless prairies, hooves striking thunder, manes and tails flying in the wind."

On 11,000 acres in the Cheyenne River Valley, wild horses destined for slaughter are rescued and allowed to run free. Boarding a beat-up blue school bus, we ramble along a dusty track into the hills and canyons. Along the way, we learn the story of Dayton Hyde, the man who had a vision to save wild horses and bought this land to give them a place to roam free. We are driven out to the range and walk with the horses; some allow us to pet them. At one watering hole is a herd of Spanish Mustangs coming down for a drink. These grulla horses' DNA has been traced back to horses brought here by the Spanish Conquistadores from Portugal. They are small in size but have great endurance; they rival the Arabian in this respect. Native Americans called them Spirit Horses. When we drive up in our bus, they race away, wild and free. It's an amazing sight!

Though the horses are the stars here, there are other interesting things to see. On a bluff above the Cheyenne River, known by the Native Americans as 4-River Overlook, we look down into a valley sacred to them and used as a gathering place for thousands of years. We are literally standing where Crazy Horse stood! How amazing is that?!

Tree of Life

The Sun Dance was - and still is - the highest ceremonial order for the Plains Indians. After four days of fasting and other preparations, the men are pierced through their chest and tied to a tree until they pull themselves free. This ceremony takes place in June, with the peak of the Sun Dance culminating on the Summer Solstice. We are taken to the site where the Sun Dance is still practiced; prayer flags flutter from the Tree of Life and buffalo skulls adorn a rock wall. I feel fortunate to be here at this sacred location.

But it isn't over yet! We follow the old Deadwood-to-Cheyenne stage road to a rock bluff adorned with petroglyphs dating back thousands of years. There is a mammoth etched into the stone! A mammoth! People who hunted mammoth carved this wall 10,000 years ago! Then passengers from the stagecoach stopped here over 100 years ago and scratched their names into the same rock wall. Oh. My. God!

There is so much more than can be seen in a 2-hour tour, but our time is up. We're not quite ready to leave yet, so we pull over into a small cemetery on the ranch to have lunch. After our picnic, we wander around looking at headstones. Some are just weathered wooden boards, some are pink quartz, and some are petrified trees. It is an interesting little graveyard, and as we leave a herd of wild horses passes nearby. Are we lucky or what?

Lunch in the graveyard

My phone died last night, but as we pass back through Hot Springs we spot a Verizon store and I am able to get it fixed. Gin and I find some fun fabric at Heartsong Quilt Shop and the headache that has been plaguing me for 3 days finally fades away. All it took was some fabric shopping! We race back to the campground and dinner is ready - chili in the crock pot. Then back in the van and off to Wind Cave National Park for an elk bugling program. We learn a little about elk from the ranger, then caravan to a turnout to listen for them. It's kind of a bust because the elk are not very talkative tonight, and the ones that we do hear are very far away. After Gin hisses at a noisy group we get the giggles and go back to Blue Bell for some much needed sleep. Goodnight!

President's Day

Monday, September 21

A lovely sight awaits us when we step out of the cabin. It was too dark to see last night when we arrived, but this morning a vista of rugged hills and stately pines greets us. It is just as beautiful as I remember from our last visit. We are staying in Bluebell Campground in Custer State Park, where Dan and Deb, Tim, Gin, and Sierra, and Dane and I spent one night during our Yellowstone adventure in 2013. We decided way back then that we would like to spend some more time at this park, so here we are.

Mount Rushmore is on our agenda for today, and after a Continental breakfast we head out. The day is gorgeous - warm and sunny with an azure sky and a few puffy white clouds. The scenery is magnificent as we follow the twisty road, full of pigtails, splits, hairpin turns, and tunnels. Our first buffalo sighting elicits a chorus of happy shouts, and naturally we pull over for photos. We are the only car stopped, unlike the hordes of tourists that would be lined up during the summer months. Traveling in the off-season rocks! More stops occur as something catches our attention. We see deer, pronghorn antelope, and more buffalo. A tunnel provides a unique view of Mount Rushmore, framed perfectly through the opening, as well a fun rock-climbing opportunity.
Although most of us have been to Mount Rushmore before, we take our time and really enjoy the experience. We decide on the audio tour, which presents the story of the monument at stations along

a walking path that takes us to the base of the sculpture and through the pines to Gutzon Borglum's studio. It's almost comical how similar our reactions are as we listen to our individual handheld devices, and how our choices of which extra sections to listen to and which to skip are always the same. Our lunch of Buffalo Stew is eaten on the patio in view of the presidents. We spend over 4 hours at Mount Rushmore, and enjoy every second.

Rapid City is our next destination, to see Fort Hays where scenes from Dances With Wolves was filmed. At the office where John Dunbar received his orders, we take turns reenacting the scene. Trust me, we won't be going to Hollywood anytime soon! The rest of Fort Hays is kind of sketchy, consisting of random displays and dioramas of yesteryear. There seems to be no one about, so we make our own fun, snapping photos in jail, an outhouse, and a coffin. Yes, we act like total lunatics!

We attempt to take a tour of the Black Hills Gold Factory, but the tours are already over for the day. There is a short movie that explains the process, so we watch it and shop a little before moving on. We hit the jackpot at Prairie Edge Store. There is a lot to see - authentic Native American crafts, fine art, beads by the thousands, bone and antler notions, Pendleton wool - but most is out of our price range so we look and drool and wish. At an Olive Oil store, we do tastings of oils and vinegars and buy some for appetizers tonight. Then back through the gauntlet of deer (57 tonight) to the cabin where a crockpot of Jambalaya is hot and ready for dinner.

A few drinks around a roaring fire complete the day. We laugh at ourselves, at each other, and at everybody else as we sit with our drinks and dinner in the great outdoors. The wind picks up and finally drives us indoors, but we are still laughing as we fall asleep. Goodnight all!

Long Long Ago

Sunday, September 20

Today is a day of looking back into long ago. Moments after leaving our KOA in Yankton, I see a familiar sign in front of a beef slaughter plant - Cimpl Meats. Back when I worked at J&B Meats, this was one of the plants we purchased beef from. This blast from the past seemed to set the tone for the day - one of remembering and reminiscing.

We are in the midst of Lewis and Clark history. Their excursion passed through this area and their legacy is strong here. We stop at Gavin's Point Dam which holds back the waters of the Missouri River to form Lewis and Clark Lake. As dams go, it's pretty ordinary but the lake is quite picturesque, nestled between steep, wooded bluffs. But our group is just as fascinated by little things, and our short stop finds us peering into a fisherman's cooler admiring his bass and crouching over a road-killed snake.

Our van brakes for anything we find interesting, and road signs lead us to our next two destinations. A nice little aquarium and fish hatchery features local aquatic life; the aquarium's turtle sculpture features us striking stupid poses on its shiny metal back. (Thanks, Dawn and Tiff for making us look stupid.) We whip a U-turn at a shrine sign, and find the lovely House of Mary Shrine. It has the requisite bathtub Mary, but also much more. The peaceful garden has a cascading stream, a heart-shaped pool, sculptures of the saints and a walking rosary. Shrines and grottos are almost always worth a look, and this one certainly is. We thoroughly enjoy the stop.

This is cattle country! Wide open grasslands and rolling fields that seem to go on forever surround us; it is so flat we can see for miles and miles in all directions. Crops are like we grow at home - corn and beans, plus vast quantities of hay in big round bales. The wind buffets the car and we talk about stories we've read of pioneer women who went crazy from the constant wind. Every farm we see is almost completely surrounded by trees - rows and rows of trees. Some houses are almost completely obscured by trees. We can only assume that this is protection from the relentless wind and wind-driven snow. One farm has 5 or 6 rows of heavy board fencing lined up in parallel rows in its pasture - it looks like these too are for wind protection, this time for the cows we see standing in the fence's shade.

There are quite a number of abandoned houses and farms; each time we see one we shout, "Abandoned!" and discuss the potential for exploring. "Too close to that farmhouse." "Locked gate." "Too much traffic." It seems we all have a fascination with these abandoned places but haven't worked up the nerve yet to stop and check one out. They give us a lot of topics for discussion though, about early settlers' hardships and difficulties, their determination and strength. The miles pass, lively with conversation.

We drive to Scotland just to take our picture in front of the sign and say we've been to Scotland, then cruise along the pink roads to Mitchell. We are greeted by a far different Corn Palace than the one we visited 2 years ago. The large crowds of summer are gone, and so are the displays and gift shops inside the palace. It is now being used as a basketball

arena, and the outdoor facades are being torn down and readied for the new corn murals. Only a few tourists stroll the streets, and the souvenir shops have sold much of their stock for the season. Traveling out of season is an unusual experience, but we decide we like it - a lot!

Visitors centers are like shrines - always worth a look. The visitor center near Chamberlain is one of the best we've seen so far. Set high on the bluffs, we have a superb view of the Missouri River. Inside, we are treated to a fabulous museum of the Lewis and Clark story. A replica of a keel boat and the stacks of provisions needed for their long exccursion make it clear just how difficult it truly was. I recently read "Undaunted Courage" and the displays here are the visual counterpart to the book, bringing it starkly to life. Lewis and Clark were badasses!



Ghost riders in the sky!

Past Chamberlain, the terrain changes once again. The land starts to become hillier and the crops are different; instead of the corn and beans we saw earlier it is now sorghum and sunflowers. But there is still a lot of hay - and when I say a lot I mean so much hay that it boggles the mind. The quantities are simply staggering. We pass the time telling all the stories we know about Dad, Grandpa Wilfred, and Great Grandpa Carl. Dawn and Tiff are fascinated by the stories they've never heard before, and enjoy learning more about their own history.

As we enter Custer State Park, we have a dilemna with the route. The park map is not at all clear about the best way to get to our campground. The pink dot on the map that marks our campsite appears to have a couple routes that will take us there. We pick the one we think may be shorter, but long story short, we're wrong. The roads that the map says are thru roads are not; twice we reach dead ends and have to backtrack. By now it's dark, the roads are winding and hilly, we are tired and hungry, and deer are taunting us at every turn. Finally, finally we reach the elusive pink dot that represents our cabin and realize that damn pink dot was in the wrong place entirely! We won't go into how it got on the map in the first place. ;-) It's too late to start a fire to make dinner, but we have sandwich fixings and pasta salad so are able to eat something before crashing into bed, exhausted. In spite of the unexpected problem finding our campground, we had a fun day sightseeing and looking back at our country's history and our family's history. Goodnight, South Dakota!

Never Grow Up

Do you have any idea how much gear 5 women headed to the wilds of South Dakota need to stuff into one vehicle? A massive game of Tetris ensues at 6:30 am as we arrange and rearrange to get everything into the HildeVan. We have camping gear, a portable kitchen, food and drink for the whole week, our luggage, and all the random crap one brings on a road trip - just in case. And I'm not gonna lie - we're not at our sharpest this morning. I'm going on about 2 1/2 hours of sleep; Dawn even less. She and Deb posted on our Facebook link at about the same time - Deb as she was getting up and Dawn as she was going to bed! But we don't have to leave anything behind and are on the road by 7:00, a little behind schedule and a lot tired.

We broke into the cookies at 9:00. Not too bad - we lasted 2 whole hours. Isn't part of the fun of a road trip eating stuff that you normally wouldn't allow yourself? And after all, calories ingested from cookies eaten out of state don't count. Coconut Pecan was the flavor of the hour. We also have Chocolate Chip, Cranberry Walnut, and Monster Cookies. No one is going hungry on this trip!

Although we're headed for South Dakota, we have a couple stops to make on the way. We join a group of ladies who share our passion for Outlander, and if you don't know what I am talking about then RUN, not walk to your local library or book store and find out! Or check out Season 1 on Starz. Local fans organized a gathering at Sugar Clay Winery in Thurman, Iowa and we enjoy a nice lunch and glass of wine before visiting Moonstone Lavender Gardens. There we sample lavender cupcakes, cookies, and tea while learning some facts about growing lavender and chatting some more with the Outlander ladies. When I learn that deer don't care for lavender, I decide I must grow some. It looks beautiful, smells wonderful, and the deer hate it. I may be able to grow something in my flowerbed that doesn't become a deer buffet after all!

The 3-hour drive to our next stop is spent napping a little, playing Trivia, and talking talking talking. By the time we reach our destination in Yankton, South Dakota we have all reverted to our 12-year-old selves. We sing and make up new stanzas to the Diarrhea Song, giggle about sex, laugh at bathroom humor, and have a new WOD (Word of The Day): gnashing. I can't even begin to explain. We are silly and irreverent and laugh like loons! The 3-hour drive flies by.

We wind down at our cabin in Yankton. A tasty dinner of Reuben Sandwiches and Hot German Potato Salad is followed by some time around the campfire. We turn in fairly early since we didn't get much sleep last night, but I can still hear Dawn and Tiffany giggling in their room. More 12-year-old humor I suppose. Tiffany wrote 'POOP' with squeeze butter on the bread while she and Dawn were making the Reubens. "Ha Ha you're eating poop!" It's good to be able to act like a kid again! The generational differences just melt away. "You can't help getting older, but you don't have to get old. ~ George Burns"

Goodnight kids!

In The Beginning

A trip is composed of many parts. The first part is just an idea - a spark; a tiny piece of randomness that captures your imagination. It burns low in the depths of you mind, flaring up now and again the way a stray breeze coaxes a smoldering pile of leaves into flame. Sometimes the little fire gutters out, lacking enough fuel to sustain it. But sometimes that spark in your mind refuses to be dampened. The flame grows a little bigger, fed by a snippet of conversation, an article, a dream. Given the right combination of fuel, the fire takes on a life of its own, burning big and bright enough to become a full-fledged inferno.

That’s how our girls’ trip began. Deb shared a link on Facebook about a buffalo roundup. We had read about it a year or so ago in a South Dakota tourism guide, and a tiny spark had flickered into life. It smoldered quietly all that time, like a well smoored fire, until Deb posted the article. Gin, Deb, and I pondered it, discussed it, and slept on it. The wee spark burst into flame. “Book it!” we all agreed.

Anticipation is another part of a trip. Our family are great planners – we love the dreaming and discussing, the research and study, the plotting and preparation. Tasks dropped easily into place. Deb, who is especially good at nailing down details, took charge of the itinerary. I’m chief cook and bottle washer, and Gin will be our chauffeur. Somewhere along the way, the next generation was invited into the fray, and our group of three became five: Deb, San, Gin, Tiff, and Dawn. The flames grew higher.

As I said, preparation is half the fun. We had official meetings, where rough drafts of the timeline were filled in piece by piece. Of course, the meetings always included plenty of good cooking – and laughter. “You have one job, Deb! Just bring the damn cheesecake!” We were assigned homework too. Since we are going to visit the ‘Dances With Wolves’ movie location, we all had to re-watch the movie. Each of us needed to learn a good ghost story to tell around the fire one night.

A Facebook thread kept us abreast of breaking developments. Days might go by without any activity, then suddenly a rash of posts would pop up as someone thought of something and the rest of the group chimed in. We had as much fun online as we did in the meetings. Here’s what we are like online:

MzDawn
Make sure horseback riding is on the itinerary pretty please!
Debbie
Very good. Your mom likes horseback riding too. I will look and see if it is available.
Tiffany
Yep! Can't wait! I love the idea of horseback riding!
Sandy
I've already checked on the horses. There is a lottery for a few people to join the roundup, but you must have livestock handling experience.
Debbie
Holy crap! I thought you were referring to a nice leisurely horseback ride experience...not round up the buffalo
Tiffany
I think she meant just riding horses not necessarily with 1000 lb. beasts.
MzDawn
I don't want to round up damn buffalo!!! I'd like to survive this trip!
Sandy
No, I meant I wanted to ride with the beasts! But I guess I'll settle for a trail ride....
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Debbie
OK group - need to think of a book to listen to as we travel along. Everyone try to think of one or two and I will get them on my iPod.
Tiffany
Ok and try to think of books with minimal sex scenes, because seriously I can think of no worse torture than being stuck in the car listening about "nipples like cherries" with my mother and my aunts.
MzDawn
Well said....I feel your pain!
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Sandy
So far we have 4 of our Native American names for the trip:
Black Kettle
Li’l Pot
Seeks Pie
Bean Gatherer
We need one for Deb!
Tiffany
Deb = Thunder Talker. Because James did tell her she sure is loud. haha
MzDawn
Omg dying!!!!! Perfect!
Debbie
LOL! And I am sorta the bossy one who organizes everything.
Sandy
Sorta?! snort
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Gin

Bean Gatherer has heap big bad news. My snore guard cracked. I gorilla glued it so I hope it holds else it will be noisy in wigwam.
Debbie

Oh NOOOOOOOOOOOO! I am bringing heap big supply of sleeping pills.
Tiffany

I'm dying over here seriously
Sandy

Black Kettle will bring earplugs for all. I would hate to have some crabby squaw smother Bean Gatherer in her sleep.
Tiffany

Be careful Bean Gatherer packs a mean wallop!
MzDawn

Gorilla glue a snore guard....of course. With the amount of snoring that's gonna be going on, no one is sleeping. Please bring ear plugs Thunder Talker!
Sandy

I could bonk her with my kettle!
MzDawn

Or my Li’l Pot!
Debbie

I was thinking along the lines more of bringing Duck Tape
Gin

Oh hell you're killing me!
Sandy

Why are none of us sleeping?!
Tiffany

Who goes to bed this early? Not this tribe.
Debbie

Crap, I can't finish my work because I have to read what you crazies are doing! I may not sleep tomorrow night at all.
Sandy

Crazy Owl tribe. That's a little known branch of the Sioux.
Tiffany

Crazy Owl tribe, a small band of predominately women from the upper Illinois area. Known for their high pitched "cackling." Letters have been unearthed detailing the tribe’s ability to "scare the menfolk."

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Panic – yet another part of a trip! As d-day looms closer and closer, our to-do lists suddenly seem a lot longer than they had months ago. Last Saturday, we held the final pre-departure meeting. (Yes, there was cheesecake!) The final itinerary was reviewed and last minute changes agreed upon; the week’s menus and pre-trip cooking assignments divvied up. Question, questions. How much room in the HildeVan? Who is sleeping in the top bunks? Does everyone know where their National Park passport is? Who snores? And how badly? How cold will it get because winter clothes are still packed away? Who gets carsick? Morning sick? How many shoes can we bring? And so on….

Chuck Box

Now we have reached the final countdown…we leave in just 11 hours. My freezer is stuffed with 12 dozen homemade cookies; my living room strewn with tubs of food. My refrigerator is completely full. The chuck box is ready. I have the fidgets and pre-vacation butterflies! I just need one more day! I still haven’t packed a thing but seriously, if it weren’t for the last minute I’d never get anything done. Soon - finally - we get to the best part of all – the actual TRIP! “Westward Ho!” No, I’d better not call any of us hos! (Hos? Hoes? How do you pluralize that? If you add the ‘e’ it becomes garden tools. Wow I’m scatterbrained when I’m tired.) Let’s try “Wagons West!” See you all in South Dakota!

Cookies!

Food, glorious food