Back to the Black Hills
Wednesday, October 19, 2022 at 10:59AM
My son Brady at Crazy Horse Monument, 1995
When I was a child, my dad took the family on only one road trip to an exotic place - the Black Hills. One summer in the early 60s, Mom and Dad, sister Becky, and Aunt Pat, took an old Ford Fairlane and my grandpa’s walled tent west, crossing through southern South Dakota from northwest Iowa.
Among the highlights of the trip were seeing Mount Rushmore (of course), swimming in Evans Plunge, touring Jewel Cave, riding the Terry Peak chairlift, and climbing on the dinosaurs atop the hills in Rapid CIty.
Grandson Paul shows the peak he summitted.
My trip last week to the Black Hills of South Dakota was my seventh. In 1969, a couple of my high school buddies and I drove to the Black Hills Playhouse to see Miss Nelson, our drama coach on whom we had a crush, in a play. I took my son there for a week in the mid nineties as well as my grandsons in 2011. I stopped for a couple nights driving back from a conference in Denver in 2015.
Grandson Miles poses for his portrait on Mount Rushmore.
Perhaps the reason I go back to is not because the area is a new experience, but because it has changed so very little in the past 60 years. Sylvan Lake is still a gem. While Harney Peak is now renamed (appropriately) Black Elk Peak, the challenging climb to the firetower is still the same. Zero progress has been made on carving Crazy Horse The bison and elk and deer and bighorn sheep and wild donkeys still flourish. Deadwood is as big a tourist trap as ever. Wind Cave’s geological wonder.
I conquer Black Elk Peak - again.
On this trip, my friend Heidi and I did more hiking than usual. We spent a few hours walking Medicine Loop in the Badlands, nearly a day tromping up Trail 4 to Black Elk Peak, and a morning looping past Lover’s Leap in Custer State Park. Sadly the Sylvan Lake Lodge where I usually like to stay was closed for renovation after a fire, but we managed to get by in a small cottage at Legion Lake. We took a wildlife safari Jeep tour, visited the Mammoth site in Hot Springs, and walked the streets of Deadwood. We economized by eating breakfasts in the cabin and packing lunches.
Perhaps the one thing I’ve noticed these last couple trips is how politicized travel has become. T-shirts now scorn politicians. Road signs for political candidates are everywhere. Casual conversations too often become political. South Dakota makes no bones about being a “red” state. On the last trip to the Hills, I bought a t-shirt in Sturgis that had a graphic of Donald Trump and Sarah Palin riding a Harley motorcycle. That summer of 2016 it was pretty funny, I thought. Now it lies, unworn, in the bottom of my t-shirt pile.
Not wearing it to the Y
Were I asked to give the South Dakota Tourism Department advice, I’d suggest changing nothing about Custer State Park, the Needles or Iron Mountain Highways, or managing the bison. But I’d tone down the obvious attempt to lure the bikers and MAGA types. It’s getting almost uncomfortable for more rational individuals.
Oh, my favorite t-shirts this trip read “It’s not a beer-belly. It’s a fuel tank for an amazing sex machine.” and “Decaffeinated coffee is like a prostitute who only wants to snuggle.” No, I didn’t buy either of them…
Reader Comments (2)
Wear any shirt at any time - you are retired! If people give you grief, just smile and wave...
Good to hear you are still spending so much time with grand kids!
I could. But I feel the country needs more peacemakers than agitators right now.
Doug