On my drive home Friday, I saw a red light up ahead and perhaps a half dozen cars stopped. If I continued, I wouldn’t go very far before I had to stop myself. There was a woman trying to make a left out of a gas station across traffic. I stopped, motioned her through and watched her pass in front of me with a wave.
No exaggeration, she had cleared my front bumper by perhaps a foot when WHAM, a guy in a BMW SUV slammed into the back of my CR-V. No squeal of brakes, just impact. The good news, no one was hurt, the other guy did have insurance and when the Clayton County police officer asked what happened, he agreed with my account fully. The other driver was ticketed for driving too close.
So, instead of a cold one and a leisurely afternoon packing for the trip, the afternoon was spent on the phone with the insurance company and the collision repair place. The guy who runs the collision shop slid underneath and did a quick inspection. His response, “don’t be surprised if they decide to total your vehicle.” The rear bumper was a mess, the back window shattered and the right, rear tire was sitting at a slightly odd angle. My CR-V is a 2001 with 290K miles. I definitely got my money’s worth. But still, the prospect of having to replace it still sucked. We had been through a lot together.
Seeing as it was late Friday afternoon, nothing could be done until the next week The added factor, I'd be out of town and probably off cell service for lengthy swaths of the trip. But, there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.
Day 1
Saturday August 10, 2019
My Lyft driver Vincent, couldn’t have been any nicer. I told him my story. Considering he drives for a living, and I’m just a commuter/roadtripper, I realized how fortunate I am to have only been involved in two bad accidents over my lifetime. But, still.
During the summer months, Delta has one non-stop flight per day between Atlanta and Rapid City. The flight itself is less than three hours and crosses two time zones. I was out of the airport and on the road by 1P. The rental was a Toyota Rav-4. Not a bad ride, but not on the list to replace my CR-V.
A few years ago, my friend Deb sent me a link to an article listing the oldest bars in each state. In South Dakota, that's "The Buffalo Bill Gaming Complex" in the town of Deadwood. It wasn't by far the first to open. In fact, it was the eighteenth bar.
When Mike Russell arrived in Deadwood in 1877, he saw seventeen bars and thought the town could use one more. He named it after his friend and hunting partner Buffalo Bill Cody. You can still get a drink and a meal, gamble in their game room or get a room upstairs for the night.
Three years prior, Lt. Col. George Custer led an expedition into the Black Hills. He was charged with finding suitable locations for forts, establishing a route southwest through the Dakota Territory and investigating reports of gold.
Along with his Seventh Cavalry, Custer brought civilian experts. They set up camp in what is
now the town of Custer. While Custer's men looked for sites to build forts, the civilian experts
went off looking for gold. Their reports sparked the Black Hills Gold Rush of 1874.
Two years later, in a ravine full of dead trees, thus the name Deadwood, a large deposit
of gold was discovered and a town quickly grew. Deadwood was built on land owned by
the Lakota Sioux, the U.S. government had no jurisdiction and considered it illegal.
Deadwood quickly developed a reputation as a rough, crime ridden place. The murder
of Wild Bill Hickok over a poker game only cemented that reputation.
But, Deadwood also has another claim to fame. While in 1880 Wabash, Indiana was the first town to get electric streetlights, Deadwood wasn't far behind. Three years later, the Pitcher Electric Light Company of Deadwood was formed. The company bought lights, one of Thomas Edison's dynamos and lit Main Street.
With the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally winding down a few miles from Deadwood, I wasn’t surprised to see the downtown area full of bikes. It made for slow going. Restaurants and banks were selling parking in their lots for half the price of the public lot. The restaurant where I parked was handing out free drink coupons, if you can call a Busch Light an actual drink.
I found Buffalos right on Main Street and went in. There’s a sign out front claiming it’s the oldest in Deadwood. Mark, my waiter, had never heard of it being the oldest in the state. A decent barbecue sandwich and the Bomber Mountain Black Tooth Amber certainly hit the spot.
Between the inside and outside sections sits a rather large door on overhead tracks, much like a giant garage door. Outside, they had a guy playing his guitar and butchering the Yardbirds song, “For Your Love.” I generally tip these guys, but he was pretty bad.
Leaving Deadwood via Hwy 85 North, it was an easy drive to Spearfish and the Bells Motor Lodge, my home for the next two nights. It's your basic, independent motel with perhaps forty rooms. It's for sale if you're interested.
As you might guess, the parking lot of the motel was mostly filled with motorcycles. There was a lot of rumbling as they came and went. I really didn’t mind and was out cold fairly easily. Besides, my body was still on Eastern Time and I had an early start the next morning.
Coming Up,
A rumble of thunder, and I keep hiking upwards
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