DED Dirt Ride 2014 - Day 2 (Dalton Lake to Sheridan Lake)

Over five hot days in August of 2014, Shaun Arritola, Rob Sorge and I rode the DED Dirt Ride, a 310 mile bicycle route from Deadwood to Edgemont to Deadwood via the 111 mile single track Centennial Trail, the 109 mile rails-to-trails Mickelson Trail, and primarily gravel road connectors. For 8-10 hours each day, we pedaled, pushed and carried our bikes, on about every type of surface, along the length and breadth of the Black Hills. Spent at the end of each day, we recovered hard by campsite and arose to ride another day. We rode with more gumption than preparation. But we rode. 

I documented this ride through a series of seven FaceBook photo albums, which is not a great platform for narrative or for preservation. So, I plan to reproduce those seven photo albums here in a series of posts, each with an added, rediscovered picture and an introductory note. Here are links to my prior posts in this series. DED Dirt Ride 2014 - Prologue; Day 1 - Centennial Trail.

As I'm beginning to build the gear, experience and mindset to consider longer bikepacking rides, I'm astonished to realize that five years have passed since this DED Dirt Ride. I am determined to bikepack more the next five years than the last. 

After a gritty finish of a long Day 1, Rob recovered hard and found single track joy early on Day 2.

Day 2 of the 2014 DED Dirt Ride. Early morning after a long, hard first day in the saddle, I am amazed how we all recover. Over hot breakfast, we prepare for another 30+ miles of Black Hills single track, with some probable by-passes due to the mammoth Atlas snow storm the prior winter. Some early miles today are open to motorized ATVs, which really tear up the trail, and we are forced to hike-a-bike some of the steeps. But south of Pilot's Knob to Pactola is flowy, buttery sweetness. A short bypass on some surprisingly fun gravel and a series of creek crossings plop us at Sheridan Lake for the night. We drive Shaun's Jeep back to Dalton Lake to retrieve his toy hauler containing our camping gear and then stop by the Sugar Shack to inhale massive burgers and fries. Another long, hot day on the trails, with a couple of mechanicals and re-routes, leaves us tired but content. The evening at the campsite passes too quickly.


After a restful night at the idyllic Dalton Lake campsite, we're ready for a full day of classic Black Hills single track, starting with a steep hike-a-bike climb out of Dalton Lake, a swift descent into the village of Nemo, then relentless up-and-down to Pilot's Knob with the burger-tastic Sugar Shack, before flowing through miles of smiles on sweet single track down to Pactola Reservoir, and finishing with a final push through more creek crossings to Sheridan Lake. Now, that's some Black Hills single track!

As the sun peeks over the horizon, the truck's buttoned up and we're ready to roll.
— with Rob Sorge and Shaun Arritola.

Shaun preparing to power down the trail, after powering down his phone.
— with Shaun Arritolaat Dalton Lake, South Dakota.

Hey! The trail's down here! Uhmm, where's my bike? — at Dalton Lake, South Dakota.

Yeah. We got this. — with Rob Sorge and Shaun Arritola at Dalton Lake.

Riding at speed through all that rough stuff results in a little trail side maintenance at Nemo:
two whiny brakes, a loosened hub and a flat tire. Nothing these shade tree mechanics can't handle.
— with Rob Sorge and Shaun Arritola in Nemo, South Dakota.

Now we're talking! A welcomed respite from the rocky steeps behind us. — in Nemo, South Dakota.

Flow like water. — in Nemo, South Dakota.

Miles of smiles. Enjoying the view of Pactola. — with Shaun Arritola at Pactola Reservoir.

Bypassing some Atlas storm damage, we discovered a nifty dirt road between Pactola and Sheridan that revealed some rolling prairie in the heart of the Black Hills. — with Rob Sorge and Shaun Arritola at Sheridan Lake.

Shaun demonstrating proper flat repair technique. When I didn't get it the first time,
he had to show me again for the second flat. — with Shaun Arritola at Sheridan Lake.

Nice way to end the day. — at Sheridan Lake.

Not so fast. We still have a few creek crossings to go. We stay dry, at least for this one.
— with Rob Sorge at Sheridan Lake.

DED Dirt Ride 2014 - Day 1 (Deadwood to Dalton Lake)

Over five hot days in August of 2014, Shaun Arritola, Rob Sorge and I rode the DED Dirt Ride, a 310 mile bicycle route from Deadwood to Edgemont to Deadwood via the 111 mile single track Centennial Trail, the 109 mile rails-to-trails Mickelson Trail, and primarily gravel road connectors. For 8-10 hours each day, we pedaled, pushed and carried our bikes, on about every type of surface, along the length and breadth of the Black Hills. Spent at the end of each day, we recovered hard by campsite and arose to ride another day. We rode with more gumption than preparation. But we rode. 

I documented this ride through a series of seven FaceBook photo albums, which is not a great platform for narrative or for preservation. So, I plan to reproduce those seven photo albums here in a series of posts, each with an added, rediscovered picture and an introductory note. Here's a link to the first post in this series. DED Dirt Ride 2014 - Prologue.

As I'm beginning to build the gear, experience and mindset to consider longer bikepacking rides, I'm astonished to realize that five years have passed since this DED Dirt Ride. I am determined to bikepack more the next five years than the last. 

Loving life and working hard at recovery at the Dalton Lake Campground.

Day 1 of the 2014 DED Dirt Ride. At first light, we gather our gear in Deadwood at the trailhead of the Mickelson Trail, where we hope to return in five days. We plan to ride most all day, every day, to complete this 310 mile loop, but we focus on one day at at time. Today, a fast descent on developed roads from Deadwood down to Sturgis drop us at Bear Butte State Park at the northern end of the Centennial Trail. Shaun's toy hauler containing our camping gear sits at Dalton Lake, about 30 miles of Black Hills single track to the south. With the heat, distance and trail, that's an ambitious start for us and the day gets long. But we eventually pedal into the Dalton Lake campground with enough energy and sunlight to enjoy a relaxing evening. We're off to a promising start.


Like school boys busting out of class for the summer, we spin down paved and gravel roads past Bear Butte State Park to eagerly hop onto the Centennial Trail for mile and miles of single track sweetness, with multiple crossing of Elk Creek, heading toward the Dalton Lake campsite. What a Start!

Shaun streaking off the front enough for this selfie. — with Shaun Arritola in Deadwood, SD.

Bear Butte under a swift sunrise, and some recently mowed double track! — with Rob Sorge in Deadwood, SD.

Thanks to Robbie's long arms, steady hand and practiced eye, we enjoyed taking a lot of selfies. 

This one is near Bear Butte. — with Shaun Arritola and Rob Sorge in Bear Butte, SD.

We soon encountered our first bridge on the Centennial Trail. I had to try. 

Obviously there's not much risk of falling far. — in Bear Butte, SD.

Robbie rips some sweet single track on "Bulldog," an early section of the Centennial Trail.
— with Rob Sorge at Centennial Trail, SD.

Shaun successfully navigates the narrows. We didn't see any mountain lions,
but it sure looked like a good home for one. — with Shaun Arritola at Centennial Trail, SD.

Shaun keeping it real with his famous "behind the scenes" photographs. Nonplussed by the cameras and crowds, Robbie smoothly sails through. — with Rob Sorge at Centennial Trail, SD.

Pulling into Dalton Lake campground, we get right to dinner! Robbie husks corn on the cob, while I fire up the stove. That's Shaun's new toy hauler, which we used to great advantage to shuttle our camp gear. 
— with Craig Groseth and Rob Sorge at Dalton Lake, SD.

After a long day in the saddle, mostly bouncing around on rocky single track,
we enjoy our favorite recovery drinks. — with Rob Sorge and Shaun Arritola at Dalton Lake, SD.

DED Dirt Ride 2014 - Prologue

Over five hot days in August of 2014, Shaun Arritola, Rob Sorge and I rode the DED Dirt Ride, a 310 mile bicycle route from Deadwood to Edgemont to Deadwood via the 111 mile single track Centennial Trail, the 109 mile rails-to-trails Mickelson Trail, and primarily gravel road connectors. For 8-10 hours each day, we pedaled, pushed and carried our bikes, on about every type of surface, along the length and breadth of the Black Hills. Spent at the end of each day, we recovered hard by campsite and arose to ride another day. We rode with more gumption than preparation. But we rode. 

I documented this ride through a series of seven FaceBook photo albums, which is not a great platform for narrative or for preservation. So, I plan to reproduce those seven photo albums here in a series of posts, each with an added, rediscovered picture and an introductory note.

As I'm beginning to build the gear, experience and mindset to consider longer bikepacking rides, I'm astonished to realize that five years have passed since this DED Dirt Ride. I am determined to bikepack more the next five years than the last. 

Nothing like experiencing the best of the Black Hills of South Dakota from the seat of a bicycle.

This first photo album introduced the DED Dirt Ride, which I originally envisioned as a continuous, non-supported bikepacking ride. However, at the time, I really did not have a suitable bike, or other gear, for such an endeavor and neither did Shaun or Rob. So, we caught a ride to the start from my wife Colleen, a ride from the finish from Shaun's sister Dachia and self-shuttled the rest with Shaun's toy hauler and Jeep. That meant each day we carried provisions just for that day. For bikes, we rode mountain bikes for the three days on the 111 mile single track Centennial Trail and gravel bikes for the two days of about 200 miles of gravel/rails-to-trail. Each day pushed our limits, but we recovered each evening around the campsite and eagerly faced the next morning. Here's the first post of our story, told primarily in pictures and captions.

The DED Dirt Ride - our 300+ mile bicycle ride from Deadwood to Edgemont to Deadwood,
via the Centennial Trail, the Mickelson Trail, and primarily gravel and dirt road connectors.

Tucked within the thickly forested, rugged remoteness of the Black Hills of South Dakota lies a treasure trove of seldom traveled single track trails, dirt paths, logging roads, gravel roads and pavement. Among all those, two off-road trails span much of the north-south length of the Black Hills. The oldest is the 111 mile single track Centennial Trail, built by the Boys Scouts as a hiking trail in 1989 to commemorate 100 years of South Dakota statehood. Running roughly parallel to the west is the Mickelson Trail, a 109 mile crushed limestone path on a 100+ year old railroad bed. A person traversing these two trails would experience a large dose of the best the Black Hills has to offer.

Somewhere, sometime in the midst of a long bike ride, I formed the concept of riding the length of the Centennial Trail and the length of the Mickelson Trail, connected by primarily gravel roads, in one continuous loop. I shared the idea with a handful of family and friends, who didn't seem to react to this any differently than others I toss into the air. In fact, one regular riding partner, Shaun Arritola, seemed downright excited to start riding it as soon as possible. Several other locals enthusiastically asked of details and options to ride for a day here or there. When I invited some old friends, my college roommate Rob Sorge committed to fly in from Houston for the occasion. Before I knew it, I had a ride for 2014.

Over the course of the winter, the details changed, but the concept endured. Eventually, we dubbed the event the DED Dirt Ride, to reflect the overall route from Deadwood to Edgemont to Deadwood, via the Centennial Trail, Mickelson Trail, and primarily gravel connectors. We rode 5 days over, around and through the best of the Black Hills. Over the next several installments, we'll travel through those days.

We're ready to start pedaling, but we're not heading down the Mickelson Trail to Edgemont.
We're taking the scenic route to Bear Butte, onto the Centennial Trail, out Wind Cave National Park into Buffalo Gap National Grasslands to Edgemont, and then back up the Mickelson Trail to this very spot. That's the plan.

Three Days Deep Into The Black Hills

After several sub-24 overnight bikepacking rides, this week I rode 3 days on and around the Black Hills BackBone and DoubleBackBone routes. Such a remote ride is fun and rewarding on its own, but it's also part of my process of building the gear, experience and mindset to consider longer ones. This ride pummeled me with hard lessons.

Diving into the deep end of the Black Hills.

Starting Day 1 at Buffalo Gap, I ride backwards up the BackBone route through Custer to Bear Mountain Lookout. On Day 2, I bee-line west to pick up the DoubleBackBone route down to Edgemont. On Day 3, I ride backroads back to Buffalo Gap. Over those three days, I ride almost 200 miles on primarily rough roads on my Jones 29+, loaded like for the Great Divide. But those are facts, not lessons.

Parking the Jeep at the Buffao Gap Post Office for a few days.

On Day 1, a late start, soft roads, off and on rain, a fully loaded big bike, a too-heavy rider, and a mostly uphill day conspire to try to break me. After hours of struggling physically and mentally, I am done when finally soft pedaling into Custer. If not for the rain, I may have pitched my tent right then and fallen asleep.

Lesson #1. Pedaling a fully loaded bike uphill for hours on soft, rough roads is hard and slow. Adjust your expectations of average speed and daily distance.

Winding up and into the Black Hills on the Black Hills BackBone route.

At Custer, I think I am done for the day and maybe for the trip. But I come alive after a long break spent eating an enormous amount of food at a Subway (footlong sandwich, multiple chips, multiple cookies and multiple Cokes). I can't believe I talk myself into getting back on the bike.

Lesson #2. Relax. Take a break. Eat. Drink. You will feel better.

Nothing like a 360 degree view atop Bear Mountain Lookout.

For the next three hours, I plow uphill for 20-some miles, but then just stop. Exhausted again, I pull out maps. It's past 6 pm and 30+ mostly uphill miles remain to my original destination of Flag Mountain. At current pace, I may make it by 10 pm, but probably later. Now, what?

Without hesitation, my race/event mindset declares, "Go for it." I think, "OK, let's go." But then my emerging Great Divide mindset interjects, "What would you do if this decision was on the Great Divide?" I realize that I would look for an interesting place to camp here, enjoy the rest of the evening, and adjust my plans for tomorrow. 

After considerable internal debate, I stick to my vision of a Great Divide ride. I turn off the BackBone route, ride a 3 mile spur up to the Bear Mountain Lookout, and disperse camp nearby. The hot dinner is delicious. The evening rain falls on my tent and not on me. The sunrise is spectacular.

Lesson #3. Decide how you want to ride and commit to it. Enjoy your ride your way.

Sunrise at my dispersed campsite, just off the top of Bear Mountain.

Day 2 features nearly as much downhill as Day 1 had uphill. But the sun burns hot and the air steams muggy. Stopping in the shade for a sip of water, even if just a minute or two, keeps me fresh. However, I learn discernment.

Lesson #4. If a cloud drifts to temporarily block a blistering sun, keep pedaling up that hill.

Richardson Cutoff Road (USFS 276) on the DoubleBackBone route.

The super comfy positioning of the Jones 29+ greatly reduces pressure on hands, wrists, shoulder and neck. That shifts more weight to the saddle, so I'm glad that my WTB Speed saddle fits well. On Day 2 and 3, I realize that the upright positioning also affects my long-accustomed pedaling motion, resulting in muscular and joint aches in new-for-me places.

Lesson #5. Ride long the bike you plan to ride long.

Pilger Mountain Road (USFS 317) drops toward Red Canyon Road (FRC 15) on the DoubleBackBone route.

So far, I love the gear that I have been acquiring over the past several years and will write separately after further field testing. But so far, so great. For starters, here's a recent blog post on the Revelate Designs bags adorning my bike. Outfitting the Jones 29+.

Lesson #6. Take care in selecting the right gear for you. Quality pays dividends.

Buffalo Gap Trading Post, a picker's paradise or maybe just a lot of junk.

For three days, the mileage on my cyclocomputer did not jive with my cue sheets, maps, signage, or common sense. Reviewing the available data back home, I am astonished to conclude that the cyclocomputer measured distance, and therefore speed, almost 15 percent short of that from the other sources. Those puffy 3.25 inch Vee BullDozer tires must have thrown off my calibration. In any event, all those slow miles now don't feel quite as slow.

Lesson #7. Although you'll never be as fast as you'd like to be, you aren't as slow as you think you are. Just ride.

A three day ride reveals much, much more than 3 one day rides. Next up is carving out time this fall for a week or so to push this out further. Maybe as far as the GDMBR. See Bikepacking The GDMBR.

Bikepacking the GDMBR

One of these next few years, I'd love to bikepack the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route ("GDMBR"), a cross-country bicycle ride on remote rough roads and trails along the Continental Divide. Created by the Adventure Cycling Association over twenty years ago, the GDMBR connected previously existing roads and trails to create one grand tour of the American Mountain West, crossing five states over 2,500 miles with 200,000 feet of elevation gain. GDMBR Info.

For me, bikepacking is backpacking on a bike. That is, I would pack my bike with gear, ride most of the day, camp at night and resupply as prudent, all while being pretty much on my own. I'd create a general outline for the trip and let each day fill in the details, in the manner of my backpacking trips back in the 1970's and 1980's.

Speaking of backpacking, the benchmark of long, continuous hikes is the 2,200 mile Appalachian Trail. From the folks I know who have done it, through-hiking the AT is an unforgettable experience, a lifestyle, a community, or even a culture, but definitely not a race. Although someone will occasionally attempt to set a speed record with support crew, film crew, sponsors and the like, that is not the norm and that is not the aspirational standard. In other words, through-hiking the AT is not defined by racing anyone or anything.

Experimenting with bike and gear on an overnight bikepack trip in the Black Hills of South Dakota.

With that perspective, I envision riding the GDMBR as follows:

• I would love to bikepack it, but not race it.
• I would likely start alone or with a few friends late in the summer, but would not start with 200 others in a "grand depart" facing arbitrary cutoffs to be considered a "racer."
• I might carry a private GPS tracker for my wife, but would not carry one to move a dot on a hyperspace "leaderboard."
• I would use paper maps, but would not carry a digital device for navigation.
• I would carry a flip phone for emergencies, but would not carry a smart phone.
• I would take pictures and notes for later, but would not post updates online.  
• I would carry a light for emergencies, but would not install a generator hub.
• I would ride most all of the day, but not into the night, unless the conditions were magical.
• I would ride with others, for all or part of the route, but would not seek sponsors or support. 
• I would take a day off the bike every week or so, as the layover days on backpacking trips were always memorable.
• I would welcome visits from family and friends along the way. No ifs, ands or buts.
• I would write something about the experience, but it would essentially be a personal journal or scrapbook for myself and any family or friends that may enjoy it. Like this blog.

For me, that would be bikepacking the GDMBR. But that's just me. I'm not about to try to impose those elements of my vision as rules, written or otherwise, on anyone else. And I'm also not about to follow divisive rules of sanctimonious, pseudo-sanctioning groupthink for inclusion on some list. From the get-go, my GDMBR experience will be mine.

Similarly, I encourage you to not restrict your dreams to limits set by others. We each have our own journey. Your GDMBR vision is yours. Find it. Nurture it. Ride it.

And for all those "racing" from the "grand depart" in June, if that's your way, go for it. Have a great time riding it your way.

I applaud everyone out there GDMBR dreaming and doing.

Just A Ride On The Mickelson Trail

Meet George Voorhees of Austin, Texas. Last weekend, I was fortunate to ride several miles with him on the Mickelson Trail. He is a living example of living life.

Visiting relatives in the Black Hills, George had never been on the Mickelson Trail, so he thought he'd take a look. With some water, a little food and a map, he rode north out of Hill City with the idea of turning around when he thought he should. Together, we crossed some bridges, cleared some tunnels and covered some miles. It was a wonderful start to my planned 100+ mile solo ride.

George said that the previous day he hiked to Little Devil's Tower and then decided to continue to the top of Harney Peak. He spoke glowingly of the experience, as well as the people he met. Everything was positive about the day.

Turns out that six months ago, George was fighting to survive quadruple bypass heart surgery. This trip is the first time he's been able to enjoy returning to the outdoors to do the things he loves. He's not wasting his time, opportunity or ability.

George Voorhees is living life.

George Voorhees and Craig Groseth on the Mickelson Trail. July 20, 2019.

New Friends On The BackBone

A group of avid cyclists recently took on the Black Hills BackBone. Here's a bit of their story, at least the small parts that I know.

Mike Prendergast is a Colorado cyclist who discovered the Black Hills BackBone through this blog a couple of years ago. Intrigued by the idea of a cross-state gravel ride, Mike created his own west/east gravel route across the northern part of Colorado and rode it with some friends over several days. Some time later, he contacted me with questions about riding the BackBone itself, including some of the logistics. Eventually, in late May this year, Mike led a party of eight on a journey to South Dakota to ride the Black Hills BackBone over four days.

The Colorado group gathers at the USFS Picnic Spring Campground near the North Dakota border,
on the eve of their four day Black Hills BackBone journey. (photo by Mike Puccio)

The Colorado group arrived in the Black Hills on Thursday May 23rd, the afternoon after a spring storm left over a foot of fresh snow in Spearfish and more on the higher elevations. Further north, the snow dissipated, but it was a cold, damp night camping at USFS Picnic Spring Campground near the North Dakota border. The prospect of riding the BackBone over the next four days looked bleak.

The Colorado group drives through Spearfish en route to USFS Picnic Spring Campground,
with at least the paved roads now clear of yesterday's foot of snow.
The higher elevations received even more snow. (photo by Matt Puccio)

On Day 1, the Colorado group rode from the border and almost immediately plowed into soggy mud. After a long morning without respite from the wheel-sucking slog, they turned east onto paved State Highway 20 to rendezvous with their support crew at the town of Buffalo. Cold, tired, dirty and discouraged, they were done with the BackBone route and were looking for something else, anything else, to ride.

Hearing that news, I called out on social media for road reports around Spearfish. Thanks to a quick and positive response from Christopher Grady, the Colorado group received surprisingly good news that the gravel roads on the prairie were dry and hard. I then forwarded to them the Spearfish routes of Lucas Haan's Black Hills Gravel Series for alternatives to their planned Day 2 ride up O'Neil Pass. They sounded skeptical, but grateful, and said they would take a look at the roads in the morning.

Starting from the North Dakota border on Day 1, the Colorado group plows through sloppy roads more mud than gravel.
(photo by Mike Prendergast)

Day 2 brought sunny, clear skies and moderate winds, drying the roads even more. Encouraged, they rode the 50+ mile "Scenic" route of the 2019 Black Hills Gravel Series out of Spearfish. From all reports, they loved the route and the ride. Around the campsite that evening, they considered how to spend their remaining two days in the Black Hills.

While the Colorado group rode around Spearfish on Day 2, I checked out the BackBone route in the Central Hills by riding up Black Fox Camp Road, over Flag Mountain, and down Williams Gulch Road. With the exception of a couple of short stretches going up Flag Mountain, the roads were clear and relatively dry. Upon hearing this report, Mike Prendergast thought they might ride Day 3 of the BackBone as they originally had planned, i.e., O'Neil Pass to Custer. Yeah. Maybe they could get back on it.

On Day 2, the Colorado group rode the 50 mile "Scenic" route of the 2019 Black Hills Gravel Series - Spearfish,
which included stretches of the Black Hills BackBone, like Crooked Oaks Road here. (photo by Mike Prendergast)

On Day 3, they went for it. Shuttling up O'Neil Pass, the Colorado group rode the BackBone route all the way to Custer on hero gravel and dirt roads. Catching up with them at their Custer campsite, I heard excited chatter about the route, the scenery, the roads and even the weather. One said it was his best day on gravel ever. They all enjoyed sharing a day of pedaling bicycles on sweet remote roads through some of the best of the Black Hills.

On Day 3, the group found more sunshine on the Black Hills BackBone route from O'Neil Pass,
along Black Fox Camp Road, over Flag Mountain, through Williams Gulch and down to Custer. (photo by David Struck)

After a day of Black Hills BackBone gravelly goodness that began at O'Neil Pass,
the group enjoys the evening together in the Prendergast camper in Custer. (photo by Kelly Prendergast)

Day 4 awoke to cold fog and a forecast of more rain. Undaunted, the Colorado group spun out of Custer on the BackBone route through the mist and back onto messy roads. Eventually, they popped out of the forested, rock infused hills onto the prairie's edge at Wind Cave National Park and down into the village of Buffalo Gap to complete their journey.

On Day 4, the group braved more cold, wet mud on the Black Hills BackBone,
riding from Custer through Wind Cave National Park toward Buffalo Gap. (photo by Mike Prendergast)

For those four cold, wet days around Memorial Day of 2019, the Colorado group rode about as much of the Black Hills BackBone as one reasonably could. When faced with weather challenges, they rode through the day, re-assessed plans for the next day over the campsite, and rode out again in the morning. This was a fun-loving, resilient, hardy group of cyclists who loved the gravel roads of the Black Hills and vowed to return.

When they do, I hope to ride some miles with them.