June/July 2020
Mountain Time
Are We Prairie People… or Mountain Folk?
Well, it turns out we’re both, depending on the season. In the cool of the early summer we love the grasslands of the prairies, but when mid-summer arrives with its higher temperatures and drying grasses we start looking for higher elevations. This is one thing we’ve learned as our slow, meandering summer continues in a delightfully relaxed fashion.
Last time, we left you in sort of the middle of South Dakota; at that point we’d already been puttering across the state for a couple of weeks. Another week or so got us over to Rapid City and the Black Hills, and then just a bit north to the beautiful area around Belle Fourche, where we spent a lovely quiet week in the grasslands. We loved it there, but by that time it was almost July and the temperatures were beginning to rise; enough so that we knew it was time to move on in search of higher elevations and cooler days. Lucky for us, right next door was Wyoming, a wonderful place that happens to include some pretty big mountains. So off we went.
South Dakota had reminded us how lovely the grassland prairie can be in early summer, but both the beauty and the comfort level of the grasslands are somewhat time limited, so as June turned to July we moved west in order to begin exploring the mountains of north central Wyoming. Here, at an elevation of around 8,000 feet our temperatures are once again just about perfect. That’s roughly 2,500 meters for all of our metric friends. Maybe we’ll just stay up here until the snows start to fly.
But to pick up the story properly, when last we wrote we were parked alongside the Missouri River, you remember, just a wee bit west of Al’s Oasis in Oacoa? We were happily in the midst of our Prairie Wander.
We’d forgotten how pleasant the Missouri River basin is. It’s Lewis and Clark country, open grassy plains, with rocky bluffs, at one time full of bison (that’s buffalo to most of us) but now mostly home to deer and cattle. And, in June, moths. More on that in a minute.
Pierre, the state capital (pronounced peer for some reason), was a bit north of us, along the river, and we eventually wandered up there for shopping and a brief “city” fix. Pierre’s population is less than 15,000 people, so it’s not much of a town. But it’s quietly nice and has an old section which we found attractive.
At this point we were flip-flopping back and forth between Central and Mountain Time Zones. (The Missouri River is the dividing line in this neck of the world.) Such a weird feeling. And, 11 clocks to change — can you believe that? Even in the Tiger we have too many electronic devices. Happily, some of them set themselves.
After taking care of business, we drove past Fort Pierre and west across the river yet again, and headed further north in the National Grasslands, aiming for a camping area at Foster Bay, along an arm of the Missouri River where it becomes Lake Oahe. We were delighted to be out and away from all and sundry. Social distancing comes naturally to us.
We camped on a knoll above the water, and it was here that we picked up the moths. We were parked in the middle of a large clump of low shrubs covered with pretty yellow blooms. It seems mommy moth liked this spot too, and had laid her eggs in some quiet little corner of the engine area or body work. As the babies hatched, they headed straight for the flowers, then back to spend their nights with us. They remained with us for days. Actually weeks. When we moved on, they opted to travel with us.
We did not leave this lovely spot to try and rid ourselves of the moths. We could have stayed there forever. But, there’s always something. This time? Mail waiting in Rapid City. So we eventually whistled up all interested moths to settle in for the ride, and headed on.
Moving further west, still in the Grasslands, we were now regularly seeing mule deer and pheasants. Since we were heading in general toward the Black Hills, we drove alongside the Old Deadwood Trail, which had frequent signs pointing out original wagon wheel ruts, stage coach stops, etc. The trail went from Fort Pierre to Deadwood, and it was kind of cool.
Eventually we pulled into Rapid City where we spent several days taking care of chores, including Ta Da — a continuation of the Worldwide Welding Tour! Ah, the sound of grinding…the smell of sulphur in the air… This time the fun was occasioned by the need to repair the spare tire mount we’d added in South Africa. Fortunately, we were already familiar with the welding shop in RC as they had built not one but two sets of aluminum boxes for us over the years. We enjoyed a bit of a reunion with the guys.
After about 3 days we’d gotten most everything attended to, so we headed for the hills, the Black Hills of course. We found this lovely little spot beside a creek along a mountain road a few miles south of Deadwood. Got a fair amount of rain, and it was really cold both nights, at 5652 feet; delightful after the heat of Rapid. We’d been slowly, slowly climbing ever since leaving the Missouri River. Rapid is about 3,200 feet, and we’d gone over 6,000 feet before dropping back down to this overnight spot. The entire country slowly continues to rise as we go west toward the Rockies.
By Friday we came down from our mountain retreat so we could check on one last item in town, and then went on further north, through Deadwood and past Spearfish, which has grown enormously in the time since we first came through here in 2003. Continuing north, we came back down to the prairie and arrived in the small, old town of Belle Fourche. Typical small farming community with history. Claim to fame is that it is the Geographical Center of the United States (if you include Alaska and Hawaii). Sweet little spot going way back in history; I think I read it had its beginnings as a railroad stop when the intercontinental train tracks were first laid. Has a reservoir a few miles out of town, and that’s where we settled in. We were happy out in the open, in the grass, with a little pond nearby.
As you can figure out for yourselves, we aren’t in any hurry to get anywhere. Each time we find a place we like, we stay awhile. Belle Fourche kept us happy and content for over a week. We had thought we might want to travel back to Rapid City, about 30-40 miles away, to shop or check on things. But no, Belle Fourche suited us just fine. Ultimately, we packed up and wandered on because it was getting close to the 4th of July holiday — and big doings were planned for nearby Mt Rushmore.
Politics aside, we will always prefer to be off by ourselves during holiday weekends; this particular few days was set to attract a particularly large crowd, and the impact on the area didn’t amuse us. And besides, the weather, which had cooled down quite a bit, was getting hot again out here on the prairie. So off we went — still moving west.
Belle Fourche is very close to the Wyoming border, so it was the work of but a few moments for us to cross the state line and immediately after entering the state, we found ourselves traveling through the huge Thunder Basin National Grasslands.
We noticed that the fields were being grazed by horses now, not so many cows. There was snow fencing, too, to remind us of the harsh winters here. And that fencing was being jumped by the pronghorn antelope we started to see. We’d not realized it before, spending all that time in southern Africa, but the impala and pronghorn are somewhat alike in appearance. We were immediately homesick for Africa.
We had now set our sights on the town of Buffalo, in the north central part of the state, a great jumping off place for the Bighorn Wilderness and particularly the Ten Sleep area, if you know whereof I speak. These mountains are filled with national forests and the dispersed camping opportunities we so enjoy, many of them quite remote — a great way to continue our social distancing plans and satisfy our desire for cooler pastures.
One wrinkle — we had to make a detour south to Casper to pick up a package. Fiercely hot, but we got in and out quickly, and promptly headed north to Buffalo. No big deal; so far the only detour in over two months on the road, and it gave us more chances to see pronghorn along the roadside and in the hills across the way.
Arriving in Buffalo the next day, the wind had shifted and was now coming out of the west — we had reached our next goal and were now situated on the eastern side of the Bighorn Wilderness, and the temperature had dropped into the low ‘70s. A real improvement.
And we’re still here. We’ve now been in the Bighorns for nearly three weeks, alternating between about 4,600 feet down in town, and up about 8,500 feet up in the mountains. We have wandered around in the national forest, finding an isolated place to camp for several days and then moseying on further. We’ve seen moose and deer and smaller critters; and even a dozen or so young heifers who stopped by to see if our Tiger was the food truck. We’ve parked in lovely meadows with great views of the peaks around us; we’ve met a few locals but are mostly keeping to ourselves; it’s a great way to spend the summer.
As needed we go down to Buffalo or Sheridan to get water and supplies (and try out the local food), then pop back up the hill again. Buffalo has a really nice library, and they’ve been most kind to us. We have no internet/phone access up in the mountains, and our T-Mobile phone service doesn’t give us much of an internet connection even in town, so we’ve made good friends of the local librarians. On one trip to town we had to divert a ways up to Sheridan in order to replace our solar charging regulator, which had rudely decided to have a bit of a fit. But, all was made right in fairly short order and we were back in business.
Then, about a week later, we had to make yet another side trip, this time east a bit, to Gillette, to deal with another difficulty. This time we were having a problem with our furnace; yes it’s July and yes we’ve been complaining about the heat, but early mornings in the woods at 8,500 feet can still be damned cold when it’s getting ready to rain, so after a little research in town and a quick phone call off we went. Gillette is much nicer than Casper (in our opinion, at least) and isn’t very far, so we mostly enjoyed the drive over and back.
We were back into pronghorn country, definitely; we parked for two nights in a grassy area right behind the shop doing the work for us and they wandered around near where we were parked, munching the grass and shooing away the local Canada geese (isn’t that an oxymoron?). Oh, and there were rabbits as well. They were all swell entertainment for us while we waited for parts.
It was a lot hotter over there and we were glad to head back to our mountains. We arrived back in Buffalo too late in the day to make it all the way up to 8,000 feet, so we stopped near town at a very nice wildlife management area. It was still awfully hot (over 90 degrees at about 5,500 feet) but we were parked next to a pretty pond, with clear skies and lots of stars to enjoy. And… a comet passing by. Rick had remembered which part of the sky to keep an eye on, and suddenly there it was. Quite a sight on a dark prairie night.
The next morning we hightailed it back up to where we’d last been camping, a very nice spot on the edge of a meadow, with deer nearby. We were delighted to find it empty and waiting for us just as we’d left it three days before. We’d like to stay all summer, but restlessness overtakes us eventually. After a few more days, we think we’ll probably move along a little bit, and see what else this great Wilderness has to offer us. Stay tuned for more.
We hope our little message finds you all well. Wherever you are we wish you safe travels if you are able to be out and about, and good times if you are staying closer to home. For fellow travelers here in the US, come out and enjoy the view! There is plenty of room for you out here in the west.
Kathy & Rick
You will find more photos on the Photo Page for this story.