Remember that wonderful, river-front city park campsite in Pierre, SD? Remember those admirable, hardy mid-western farmers I described? They do have a sense of humor. The sunset was about 2000 (8:00pm), so I retired to my tent to read and eventually sleep. There was a catch to the place being free to tents. In comes that sense of humor, the ability to pull a practical joke in the state’s capital. “Tents are free, but must use the grass areas.” Ha, ha, those funny mid-westerners…at 0200 I heard what I thought was a slow moving vehicle passing on the gravel/sand path between me and the river. It passed, and then slowly another passed. Wait! That wasn’t a vehicle, its a *&#%ing sprinkler. I scrambled to get all the gear under the fly, the sprinklers were covering the entire grass area. A little water never hurt anyone, pissed me off, but I’d survive. In the morning, laying in a drenched puddle, I started to pack and noticed my tent was filled with little red ants crawling all over, especially my riding gear. That didn’t appear to be fire ants, so kept my cool, packed up and made an exit from this horrible joke.
I made a hasty departure, traveling out of Pierre on Rt 14 where I saw in the distance dark clouds with rain falling from their black undersides. Luckily, I never really faced much more than a light sprinkle (poor choice of words, remembering this morning). I transited through little towns, like Harrold, SD that had more silos than people. I was also more aware today of the smells, especially when I passed a soybean facilities that had an overwhelming fragrance of buttered popcorn. Riding up Rt 25, near Vienna, I smelled something very desirable, a combination of butterscotch and mint. This was something difficult to experience from a car, SUV, or truck.
I left the camp in such a hurry I didn’t eat, so when i was in Miller, SD, the road zig-zagged. I zagged instead of zigged, and so punched my iPhone for a grocery store. Said the closest one was in Huron. I turned in the street to make a uturn to get back on the appropriate road, as I wheeled around I was staring at Tucker’s Super Valu Foods. I bought ingredients for a cucumber sandwich (hence forth known as a cuwich) and made the delicacy in the parking lot, with dark ominous clouds approaching fast. I downed a Poweraide and cuwich, inserted my sound-dampening earbuds and off I went. Of course, it was about this point I began to reminisce about the ants, and then I feel the critters all over me, under my gear. Quite an imagination, eh?
I was surprised at the prosperous town of De Smet, a destination of mine, following in the foot steps of Little Joe Cartwright. See, I had to see where Little Joe took the tart he married from Virginia City, leaving Ponderosa Ranch, for this prosperous South Dakota village. This is where Little Joe and the tart had Laura and Mary Ingalls. Laura lived and died here in this prairie town, wrote a book about it (I believe before she died, but I’ll check Wikipedia first). Those older than 45, probably remember Laura wrote her prairie life tale, based on a popular 1970’s show called “Little House on the Prairie.”
I left De Smet, taking some back roads up to Watertown, where I am spending the night. The skies don’t look good, so I’m in a Super 8 with my tent and gear spread out, drying on the other bed in my room.
trafalgar adventures 