Black Hills Matter…
I sincerely hope that title doesn’t offend anybody! I mean no disrespect, nor is it in any way my intent to minimize legitimate social concerns at all… Still, I do enjoy the Black Hills, and I do think they matter…
Now, all that blanket apology jazz we all seem to feel the need to include in order to qualify and/or sanitize everything we say these days has had me thinking about other stuff going on in the land of the free… We’ve become such a nation of PC crybabies and hyper-sensitive thumb-suckers... of political hacks, posturers, and pretenders! Everywhere I turn, it seems, somebody is claiming to be offended or to having their feelings devastated… Appears we’re gonna have to create national ‘Safe Spaces’ the way we have Rest Areas along our highways for all the tragically un-coddled legions of whimpering spoiled brats.
Not-so-long ago there was a tremendous uproar about ‘potty parity’! Who knew that some folks actually got all flustered and suffered such grievous emotional harm at the prospect of having to relieve themselves behind a door with signage labeling their stall the same as their own birth gender! Dang, when I gotta go, that’s the least of my concerns! Just shows what a backward, insensitive knuckle-dragger I must be, I guess...
But no, we had to have a national crisis over that, and, as always, political points were scored or lost depending upon how sensitive a particular politico standing in front of concerned CNN ‘reporters’ appeared to be or not… In the end it all boiled down to just another distraction from truly urgent matters, with both ‘parties of the people’ eagerly using the opportunity to grandstand and virtue-signal while deflecting attention away from other more dire shortcomings. A tempest-in-a-teapot, for sure, but it was also a Harbinger of things to come…
Now I’m reading, yet again, about the angst over sports teams using 'derogatory, defamatory, degrading, and downright insulting' names! Names like Braves, Warriors, Chiefs, Chippewas, Indians, and Seminoles are apparently interfering with the pursuit of happiness of some folks, and that has resulted in the virtuous, ever-vigilant, purest-of-all-souls WOKE folks having their dainty silk panties wad-up in a major way over it… Oh! The calloused uncaring nature of some folks!!! Heck, I’m so outraged myself, it makes me wanna go steal a TV and/or burn a store down!
My question is, “Why are the self-righteous, self-appointed guardians of virtue so disturbed about only those names and groups of folks but not about others?” How about Cowboys, Fighting Irish, Mountaineers, and Hoosiers? Anybody know, or even care, if those folks might have bruised senses of self-worth, horribly scarred psyches, or fractured sensitivities? How many of them, do you suppose, cry themselves to sleep each night lamenting their agonizing humiliation? And, while I’m at it, why hasn’t somebody created a support-group for those poor souls with in-growing toenails? Dang, we absolutely need another government program to address that, for sure!
OK, so maybe I am more than a little bit insensitive to nonsense… Sure, I also care deeply about all people being treated respectfully, but the lion’s share of all the dramatic posturing and fake caring outrage going on in the name of ‘justice’, well… It’s simply very deliberate behavior carefully calculated and calibrated to evoke specific responses… and on that I have to toss the penalty flag and call “unnecessary phoniness!” Anyway, I truly do think the Black Hills matter, and I’d really prefer not to receive a ration of grief for saying so.
While I’ve never attended Bike Week or any other annual ‘Sturgis’ event, I’ve been to and around the Black Hills many, many times over the years. No, they are not my favorite destination, and I wouldn’t become all flustered like some seem to get over incredibly trivial stuff if I were never to tour them again. Still…
At one time the Hills were sacred to certain native people, and I also feel a sense of ‘something special’ about them myself. Not a spiritual thing the way others might connect, but a quite comfortable feeling that all is well; there is peace and soothing tranquility there for this spiritual pilgrim; and, enveloping me is a calming reassurance that, perhaps, my best days just may not be behind me after all…
Yes, there is a sense of joy whenever I glide around those sweeping curves, feel the up and down undulations of those ribbons of asphalt as they alternatingly ascend then descend those isolated wonderfully scenic geologic lumps out on the vast prairie… My body, soul, and mind are in complete harmony with my environment… that environment…
My partner and his… whatever, departed Rapid City rather early for a back-road trek… around 7am. Daylight comes early out there this time of year, so the sun was already well above the horizon, but the temps were still at their most desirable. It was a very good start to what promised to be a very fine day! No chaps or Gerbings liner this day, and for a brief time I was really second-guessing myself for that call! Soon enough, however, things began to moderate and my chosen ensemble became spot-on.
First we rode to Deadwood… Jerry had never seen the motels, bars, restaurants, and souvenir shops all along both sides of the main drag, and no visit to this area could be considered complete without a proper look-see… Yep, we simply must gaze upon all of those modern marvels of commercialism in each historical locale if we are to have a reasonably well-rounded, properly filled-out travel resume. Then we stopped at the Visitors Center and everything changed for this solitary guy who nibbles occasionally around the edges of cynicism.
First, we saw old photos of that town taken in the late 1800s and early 1900s. One picture is absolutely worth a thousand words at a minimum! And, what a story they portray. We read a couple of brochures, chatted with the very nice and knowledgeable lady behind the plexiglass barrier so in vogue with the times, and we chatted among ourselves. Even though I had been through there several times previously, I truly did not know much at all about that town beyond having a vague awareness of Wild Bill’s brief tenure there and of his fateful poker hand… I still don’t, actually, but I do know some multiple of what I did before that visit… Thanks, Jerry!!!
While there, that nice lady had suggested a place beyond Lead that she claimed served awesome food… We stopped there for our first meal of the day, and it was quite good… pricy, but good. In case you’re wondering, yes! I did have bacon, and so did Jerry, for that matter.
I do thoroughly enjoy that particular blessing the Almighty has given to us unwashed gentile/infidel/heathens; I suppose as a form of compensation for those of us not being part of any other group… The fact is that most of the world’s major religions do not condone pork consumption. The Master of the universe apparently is inclined towards fairness, balance and symmetry, though; so, while our women don’t get to wear Burkas, at least they can enjoy bacon and ham! I do steadfastly believe that our women got the better end of that deal…
An early model camper on display in Deadwood…
Following a most filling and satisfying repast, we headed out to ride the Spearfish Canyon. My personal favorite ride in the Hills, and that is due in no small measure to the lack of over-development. Oh, there is plenty, of course, but relatively little in comparison to the pockets in most other areas. The road every time I’ve ridden it has been in very good shape, and the curvatude is just enough to make high speeds unwise but still offer sufficient exhilaration. A pleasant way to immerse oneself in thought, reflection, and physical delight all at the same time.
One of hundreds of photo ops along the Spearfish Canyon…
We retraced our route back down the Canyon then turned west into Wyoming, where we would eventually deposit our moaning, aching derrieres for the traditional nocturnal rest period. The route selected was not at all the most direct, but it was a nice ride… It was also a bit tiring after all the other riding we’d been doing, so…
Sometimes the nap chairs each of us had brought along simply are not enough…
We settled-in for our nightly pause, this time in Gillette, WY… Our din-din that evening consisted of some delivery Carolina pulled pork BBQ sandwiches… In Wyoming! Who knew?! It was pretty doggone good too… A fitting benediction to a truly amazing day!
DDT
