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It was Bill and Ken and Dennis this year again, the last remaining members of a once vast tribe. We were headed northeast so the gathering place was a shopping center up near Brighton. First Ken was late because he grossly underestimated the time it would take him to get there, and then Bill led us off in the wrong direction. Eventually we did get going. Head out I-76 and turn north at Fort Morgan. We're headed for the Black Hills.
Before we got to Fort Morgan, however, we got off at a rest area at Wiggins and from there Ken led us on a somewhat out of the way--but more pastoral--route that followed the section line roads zig-zagging alongside the Platte River. Yes, that was CO 52 heading south from that interchange but CO 52 only goes north once you follow it east to Fort Morgan. That's what maps are for. Oh well, as I say, it was more pastoral than the interstate.
Arriving in Scottsbluff, our destination for the day, Dennis's GPS led us to where the motel was supposed to be but all Bill and Dennis saw was an abandoned warehouse. Ken saw the small sign and rode to it and the other two realized this abandoned warehouse was our motel. Hey, perfect place to bring the ladies, right? On the inside it wasn't bad, though.
In the morning, before hitting the road, we cruised over to Scotts Bluff National Monument and rode to the top. Good view, and the road up is great. Definitely worth a stop. This is part of this year's itinerary. With several short days we're blocking in some time for being tourists.
So north out of Scottsbluff on NE 71, intending to take NE 2 north to Crawford, then on east to Chadron to pick up US 385. But after a stop for lunch and ice cream in Crawford, heading north out of town, Ken spotted a sign seeming to say that a road going off to the left would take us more directly to where we were headed. Is this paved all the way? It's not clear from the map. Let's take it.
It was paved, and it took us up into South Dakota to hit US 18 at Edgemont. It was also a stretch of road we had never been on. Then we headed east for Hot Springs. Going into town we passed The Mammoth Site, and after getting gas and some discussion decided to go back and see the place. This was an old sink hole that had trapped numerous mammoths and other animals and is being excavated in an enclosure with everything open for visitors to see. Very cool. After that it didn't make sense to go back to Hot Springs to go north so we backtracked further, to where SD 89 goes north to Pringle and you meet up with US 385 up to Custer, our destination and home for the next three nights.
The next day was golf day. Ken's shoulder is messed up so he doesn't play any more but he's a good ball spotter. Dennis whupped Bill's butt, of course. That evening we walked out for dinner and every place was jammed. Tourism has returned to the Black Hills. After dinner we walked down to the Purple Pie Palace and had great blackberry pie ala mode. That place was doing a land office business.
The following day was a riding day. We headed north to pick up the Needles Highway, the Custer State Park Wildlife Loop, and the Iron Mountain Road. The tunnels are still there, the pigtail bridges are still there, but the Wildlife Loop was conspicuously lacking in wildlife, with the inevitable exception of the donkeys looking for carrots from tourists. We did eventually see exactly one bison.
Have I mentioned yet that it was hot? It was. Extremely. So when we got to Keystone it was definitely time to stop for something cold and wet. And air-conditioned. Then we took the Old Hill City Road up to Hill City for another fine dinner at the Alpine Inn, that place where for an amazingly low price you get a steak, potato, Texas toast, and a wedge of lettuce with ranch dressing. At $13 this very good meal was cheaper than sandwiches at several places we'd stopped. Then the short ride back to Custer and a walk down the street for ice cream.
Next day it was time to move on again. We headed up through Hill City and made the turn toward Rapid City on SD 44 and, after some wandering and uncertainty, found the road north to intersect with Nemo Road and ultimately the Vanocker Canyon road up to Sturgis.
In Sturgis it was really hot. Bill took a screen shot of his phone showing 106 degrees and he says it got hotter than that. We headed straight for the Knuckle Bar and had lunch. After lunch there was no interest in shopping or anything, just getting going again up to Deadwood. As long as we were moving the heat was bearable. Of course, we didn't get far out of Sturgis when we got stopped by road construction and just sat there in the heat--fortunately not for too very long.
We made it on up to Deadwood and parked and headed for a casino and coolness. Lady Luck was ignoring us, however, and we didn't stay long. Back at the bikes, Ken pulled Gatorade out of his bag and remarked that it was like drinking coffee--it was that warm. We headed up through Lead and down to the Spearfish Canyon Road, to take us to Spearfish, our stop for the night. The heat continued into the evening and at 11:30 Ken was sitting outside talking to Judy and could see the nearby time and temperature clock still showing 97 degrees.
The ride the next day was going to be short so we took the roundabout route up to Devil's Tower. Unlike on other trips, we went in the park, up to the rock, and walked around it at the base. Then back down to a little restaurant by the highway for some ice cream. And then on down to Newcastle.
In the morning we headed south on US 85, with a stop for lunch in Lusk. And by far the worst meal of the trip. Sometimes in these small towns you can discover a real gem. This one was a real turd.
Continuing south we hit US 26 at Lingle, and veered southeast to Torrington. And our second abandoned warehouse of a motel on the trip. Do people in Wyoming not understand the concept of making your motel attractive? But again, the inside was fine, and we found a good restaurant down the street.
Heading out in the morning we were in fog, of all things. It gradually dissipated and we rode our longest non-stop stretch of the trip down to Cheyenne and then west out of Cheyenne on WY 210, which runs through the hills north of I-80. Finally we found a place to stop. And for the first time this trip the air was clear of forest fire smoke and the heat was finally subsiding. Finally! That road led to the interstate and there was no other option so we blasted to Laramie and got off on WY 230, heading down into the Snowy Range. But Ken hadn't read the map closely enough and we really wanted WY 130, a little further on. WY 230 only glanced off the southern edge of the Snowy Range, not going through it like WY 130 does, so it was a pleasant ride but nowhere near as scenic as expected. Regardless, we got on down back in to Colorado to Walden for the night.
We walked out for beers and found a bar where we were soon engaged in conversation by a couple, the woman of whom asked about our OFMC shirts. With us fudging a bit on the meaning of OFMC, she ventured that it stood for "Old Farts Motorcycle Club." Is it really that obvious? Are we really that obvious?
The next morning we heard that the road directly down to Granby was closed due to mud slides. That had been our intended route. Another possible route, down the Poudre, was closed due to flash flooding. This is all due to previous forest fires in these places. So our only route was to take CO 14 down to Muddy Pass to pick up US 40 there and then come on down through Kremmling. So we did, and on through Hot Sulphur Springs, and Granby, and Winter Park and over Berthoud Pass. We stopped in Empire for food and ice cream, said our farewells, and jumped on I-70. Dennis blasted and was gone in an instant and it was only a minute or two before Ken and Bill got separated in traffic and we each headed home on our own. The 2021 trip was a done deal.
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