Days 4 – 5

Day 4 started off like any other, except that it was windy, and rainy, and the forecast was for severe thunderstorms with hail and tornadoes across the Midwestern region. ...oh joy!!!

Undaunted and equipped with my new FroggToggs rain suit:

frogg toggs® - Choose Product

…and a belly full of homemade biscuits & gravy, I hit the road around 10am (hey, I'm on vacation).

A short run up the Rock River towards Rockford found me on US 20 heading west. It was gloomy and had the occasional drizzle, but no real rain to speak of, so I was just enjoying the green countryside; a real novelty since living in Southern California. In short time, I found myself winding my way into the hills surrounding Galena, Illinois.

There is some history to this town, especially if you're a fan of President Grant:

As you can see from this picture, I still have a looong way to go! Lol

US 20 is as good a road as you will find across Illinois, Iowa and into Nebraska; frankly, there's just not that much to see in those states, and by sticking to their northern edge you get the benefit of some rolling hills and lush countryside. I was skirting along the northern edge of the storm front too, and despite the few showers I rode though, my hands (in regular, Held riding gloves) never got wet. It was chilly though, and having the rain suit on over my Alpinestars suit really helped keep me warm. In fact, I wore the suit during the trip more for warmth than for weather protection.

I crossed the Mississippi River at East Dubuque, Illinois at the Julien Dubuque Bridge; it sounds fancy, but it was a non-event.

About halfway across Iowa the storm front broke and left me staring at clear blue skies, and warmer temperatures (in the low-mid 50s).

...there's a whole lot of nothing out there!!!

Continuing on US 20 got me to the Nebraska border where I jumped on Highway 12, also known as the Lewis and Clark Trail. ...if you've always wondered the difference between Nebraska and Iowa, here you go:

...shocking, isn't it?

Actually Northern Nebraska is quite pretty, and if you stay on secondary roads, like 12, you get to see all kinds of historical markers. I wish I'd had time to stop and at least take pictures of them for future reading, but I would never get anywhere if I did. As you can tell from the last pic, it was getting towards dusk and I had a ways to go yet. ...actually, I had no idea how far I had to go, because there's nothing in Nebraska ...or South Dakota. I was getting tired, and asked my handy little GPS to find me a place to stay. The first 5 hits all wanted me to back track 60 miles or so, but I'm not going backwards on this trip, nosiree. So the little bastard GPS told me to cross into SD at the next available turn. My plan had been to cross into SD at Spencer, Nebraska, but I didn't have Nebraska loaded into my GPS (my original route idea took me into Wisconsin, Minnesota, and SD) so the GPS had no idea that the Indian hotel and casino it was leading me to was just across the border from Spencer (like 3 miles) and neither did I. ...so like a sucker, I crossed into SD and up onto the high plains, and away from the scenic, hilly, protection of highway 12.

...you best not be rustlin' boy!

My long shadow looking back towards NE.

Dusk over the Missouri River.

Who's that guy?

The bridge leading away from the scenic rolling hills of NE, and into the wastelands that are southern SD.

...the next hour sucked! 40-60 mph cross winds across SD in the barren plains was making my already tired body really hurt, especially my neck. Fighting the wind was kicking my ass, and I was very glad to find myself at the hotel. It was shabby, and I certainly didn't find myself wanting to spend any time in their "casino" but the burger was pretty good, and they had hot showers and HBO. At least there was a pretty sunset to view behind the casino.

I got good night’s sleep and woke up ready to tackle SD and get to the Black Hills.

...now is probably as good a time as any to mention certain things about the VFR. It has one of those fancy marine grade fuse boxes under the seat, which is what I wired my GPS and heated grips into. The problem is, the fuse box isn't installed off a relay, but directly off the battery (this will change now that I'm home). ...well, remember me saying how tired I was getting? ...I forgot to switch off the heated grips. This makes for a very dead and very un-bump startable bike! Lol

So, after 20 minutes of huffing and puffing trying to get the old girl to fire up, I decided to go in and see if they had any jumper cables. ...turns out they had one of those fancy rechargeable jump starters. So I signed a little waiver, popped off the shiny new Sargent seat, and ...found out that the plastic protectors around the teeth of the clips make it damned near impossible to grab the small lugs on a motorcycle battery! Lol So after half pulling the battery out of the bike, and peeling back the insulation on the power leads from the bike, I'm able to get them clipped into place (as long as I don't let go of anything) and get the bike to fire. I had to let it run with the box attached for about 5 minutes before the bike had enough juice to run on her own power.

...I wasn't worried about getting enough charge though, it would be a long day in the saddle, and thanks to Marc, the battery was brand new. ...did I mention that I'm glad I filled up across the street before calling it a night? Lol

Immediately after leaving the hotel on highway 18 west, I crossed the Fort Randall Dam.

Which was the last scenic thing I saw until turning north on Big Foot Trail toward Wounded Knee. I did stop in Winner, SD for lunch. I ordered the Reuben from the local cafe, and got many strange looks from the locals ...probably my one-piece riding suit, or perhaps it was my full set of teeth and firm grasp of the English language ...who knows (just kidding, the people were actually very nice). I'll say this for the sandwich, it was the best food I've ever eaten in Winner, SD, and let's leave it at that!

Next stop was Wounded Knee, off Big Foot Trail. To say they don't keep the "monument" up very well is an understatement:

...and one with me:

I really wonder what it said before massacre. ...battle? ...slaughter? We may never know.

Anyway, from what I could gather, out in this field, just beyond the crappy wooden structure, is the campsite that was the location of the last battle between the Apache & the US Army ...the Apache didn't win.

The next stop along my route was after I entered the Badlands Natl. Park, very pretty and I'm sure the photos won't do it any justice.

While stopped here I noticed that yet another bolt had gone AWOL from the right side of the Givi rack. With no M8 bolts handy, I used a half dozen cable-ties the secure the frame pieces together. From here, it was a straight shot (well, curved actually) into Rapid City, SD where a new tire and fresh oil was waiting for me at Rice Honda, Victory, and SeaDoo.

Apparently though, 77 in a 65 isn't a great idea when you're getting close to an "urban center" ...I use that term loosely in context of South Dakota.

Actually, the cop was cool, and we chatted a bit about the ride, etc.. He ended up giving me a written warning for speed and no insurance card specific to the vehicle (I had insurance, just didn't have a card with the VFR listed on it yet). No worries then and he didn't seem to mind the cell-phone pic I snapped while he was running my license.

I got to take a breather in Rapid City while they spooned a new Dunlop sport touring donut onto the back of the VFR, and while it was there I asked them to dump the oil and put some fresh blood in her. Then it was off to the local Ace hardware for a replacement M8 bolt for the one that had jumped ship. With the crossbar on the sub frame broken, it was the only remaining support on the right side except the main mount where the grab handles would be!

All done, it was still only 4:30 or 5pm so I figured I had plenty of time to get up to Mt. Rushmore and grab some pics, and Google Earth had convinced me there would be some twisty roads up there, perfect for scrubbing in the new shoe. ...well the trip up wasn't too twisty as it turned out, but that's fine because there's a 25 mph speed limit all the way to the monument! lol The one thing the Black Hills has though, is wildlife. I saw a wild turkey and TONS of deer. In fact, these two were just below the monument (with a half dozen others) crossing the road.

Once I had let them by (the Solstice was stopped also), it was time to pay my $10 and finally see the monument in person. After parking, and on my way to the visitor's center, I saw this tagged and collared great, hornified mountainous goat wandering through the center:

A ranger told me that they are completely wild, and are not fed and certainly not petted, but they have become (mostly) used to people, and really like the fresh grass that grows inside the center. With this in mind, I was able to get decent shots of another, untagged, goat in his natural habitat ...complete with manhole cover and stone walled restroom! Lol

...but I was here for the dead presidents!

...yep, the same shot a million other people have taken, but as usual with photos, it's much more impressive in person.

I wasn't about to go hiking in all my gear, and time was a wastin' anyway, so it was back to the bike, and back onto Hwy 244 (Needles Highway) headed north. The good roads, from my research on Google Earth, were behind the monument, so that's where I was headed ...I still had a shiny, nubbly new tire to wear in after all.

Once out of the official park, the views just got better and better.

They say the president's heads are roughly 60' tall from chin to the top of their heads. ...that's pretty big!

I had to stop for a pic of Horse Thief Lake as I went past.

My next stop would have me circle south on highway 385 to the Crazy Horse monument.

The head on Crazy Horse is 80' tall ...they just really wanted to outdo Mt. Rushmore. ...but this monument has been in progress since 1939, so it's not going to be done anytime soon. Lol

Here are some more shots from the visitor's center, which is all made of wood harvested on the ranch where the monument is being built.

A 1/34 scale model of the finished monument.

And the wider view of the area from inside the visitor's center.

From here I continued south to enter Custer State Park from the south, to head back north on 87, this is also known as the Needles Byway.

The views were fantastic, but the light was failing, and having seen the deer population during the day, I wanted to make as much ground towards Spearfish (my stopping point for the day) before night fall. The sun was setting, and I just had to stop for a shot at Pactola Reservoir.

Then it was on to Deadwood, see if you can guess where the old western town got its name?

But the downtown was beautifully restored, and it was tempting to stay here for the night. ...then I realized there was a slot machine crammed into every nook and cranny in the town, and couldn't imagine getting a good night sleep with all that clanging going on!

...so I soldiered on into the darkness until I got to Spearfish, just off the I 90 Fwy / State Hwy 14. Tomorrow was Wyoming, and I was going to need my rest!