It was hard not to notice the great number of motorcycles we were running into. First, we saw them on the road. During the big thunderstorms they would wait under bridges. At the campsite, every site had at least one Harley. Harleys were coming out of RVs, trailers, driven, their deafening hum was all around us. Very few of them ever wore helmets, unless it was raining, of course. Because we all know how dangerous rain can be!
We got off to a late start of 11 am after taking some time to get organized and have a pancake breakfast down at the Koa covered patio. The flatlands of the prairies turned to steep mountains covered in red pines.
At Mt. Rushmore just about every other couple wore biker gear. You know, the denim or leather jacket, the big buckles, head bands.
We had ice cream cones for lunch (they cost $4 and were quite huge), then got on our way. In an attempt to take a scenic route, we took a wrong turn in Keystone onto ye olde Mt. Rushmore "highway." That is, a road barely big enough for one vehicle, let alone two, full of hairpin turns and no shoulders. Behind us, three motorcycle riders who wanted to ride the wind!
We turned the corner, arriving in Hill City, and Cathe gasped, saying, "Oh my gosh, I think we just arrived in hell."
The main street of this quaint, mountain town, was lined with parked Harleys from one end to another, and more were arriving.
We found our scenic route and remembered along the way that scenic also typically means "long" and "lots of road construction."
The landscape returned to prairies, but with goose bumps of green hills dotted with a blue-ish moss. They rose up all around us, barely a tree in site.
After arriving back at the I90, the rockies appeared in the distance, their snow-capped peaks blinking at us from a distance.
It was 3pm, had what we thought was 4 hours of driving left to get us to Billings, our desired end destination for the day. The I90 in these parts has very little off the highway. Even gas stations are hard to find. We decided it might be a good idea to make a reservation.
The first hotel was booked. The second was, as well. Then the third. When calling the fourth, Cathe asked, "What's going on in Billings, there doesn't seem to be a room left in town?"
Turns out there is a Professional Bull Riders Association convention happening in Billings.
We narrowed out sites on Sheridan, Wyoming and managed to find a hotel fairly easily here. After dinner, we parked around back to find four Harley Davidson motorcycles. All of them from Ontario. Must be kismet.
Fave signs of the day:
An A&W advertisement: "Get Mugged"
Road sign: "Crazy Woman Creek Road"
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