Boy, you sure took me for a ride,
And even now I sit and wonder why.
Feelin' alright?
I'm not feeling too good myself.
Feelin' alright?
I'm not feeling that good myself.
Feelin' Alright? Dave Mason (1968).
Day 1 of the 2025 Black Hills Bounty.
We plan a solid first day ride from High Plains Homestead RV Park to Limestone Butte Reservoir, which lies deep into a challenging expanse of Buffalo Gap National Grasslands. On this mid-September day, the forecast calls for mild winds and no rain, but temperatures well into the 90's. Uffda.
Just to reach the Grasslands, the route rolls across 55 miles of ranch land that is seriously exposed to the elements. County gravel roads down there ride pretty fast with long sight lines, but are utterly without cover. Do not underestimate those miles.
Then 12 miles of dirt two-track in the Grasslands add a much rougher surface, heightened attentiveness to navigation, significantly slower speed, and zero shade. See, The Challenge Of Buffalo Gap National Grasslands.
Ye doth not trifle thuruh these lands. Certainly not this day.
Ready to roll from High Plains Homestead. Craig Groseth, Paul Brasby, Luke Derstein, Jeff Caldwell, D.B. Cooper |
At the onset, we adjusted our logistics for the trip. With a point-to-point, weeklong trip planned for a dozen or more riders, we tackled a series of logistical issues over the summer and into the fall, such as water, re-supply, lodging, and transportation for that many riders. Then rider cancellations chiseled our numbers down. One here, two there. With a final rush at the end, our suddenly much smaller numbers mandated changes.
The result? The four out-of-state riders would ride the route as planned, although unloaded at the beginning. I would drive a shuttle truck to the night's campsite and ride what I could. After all, I rode the entire BackBone Grande as a through-ride in 2023 and have ridden most of those miles several times on shorter trips over the years. And I'm just out playing in my backyard. This trip was their vacation.
As it turned out, it was a good thing to have a shuttle. And that we started with unloaded bikes.
So, we all left High Plains Homestead on a glorious mid-September morning. After a brief stop at the South Dakota border for water and pictures, I drove ahead to Limestone Butte Reservoir to claim a dispersed campsite. Then, I rode my unloaded bike back to the entry into the Grasslands, grabbed a sliver of shade cast from a small tree, and plopped down to wait for the crew.
Eventually, much later than expected, they dragged in, strung out along the now-overcooked prairie. That first 55 miles of fast, solid county gravel had become an oven. They were cooked.
At the South Dakota border just south of the near-ghost town of Ardmore. Still 32 miles of county gravel just to get to the two track in Buffalo Gap National Grasslands. |
I'll spare the gory details. One was done, reduced to sprawling in the shaded ditch unable to keep anything down. Finally upright almost three hours later, he somehow managed to soft-pedal 4 miles of paved highway to the nearest air-conditioned C-store. But that was it.
The other three decided to plunge into the Grasslands for the remaining 12 miles to the Reservoir. But they underestimated the toll extracted by the oppressive heat and rough roads. Speed plummeted and water vanished, while the winding two track stretched beyond the horizon. There seemed to be no end to the ocean of grass smothered in heat. Desperately dismounted for yet another break atop yet another hill, they finally spotted the shuttle truck in the distance. One bee-lined down to it and drove back up the route to retrieve his compatriots.
It was that kind of day.
Seemingly endless ocean of grass in Buffalo Gap National Grasslands. (image by Paul Brasby) |
Eventually, we all re-assembled at that C-store. With everyone over-cooked, and two in need of immediate cooling, we simply could not disperse camp at the treeless, still smoldering Reservoir. Instead, we drove to a nearby KOA campground with a swimming pool, showers, cold drinks, pizza, and shade.
We survived the day. And learned a hard lesson on respecting the brutality of heat in the open prairie.
This is no country for young men.
Feelin' Alright? Joe Cocker (1968).
Here's a link to the Black Hills Bounty Page, which describes and links all blog posts for every post for every year of this ride (2021-present). Black Hills Bounty Page.
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