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Shamrock Tour®: Sturgis and Deadwood, South Dakota
Black Hills, Bison and Buttes
The biker hordes have yet to arrive for the annual Black Hills Motor Classic Rally in Sturgis, South Dakota. I have this majestic and surreal landscape mostly to myself for the next several days to explore. Buttes, bison grazing on rolling grasslands, the infamous town of Deadwood, South Dakota, historic highways and much more await my motorcycle meanderings through America’s northern Great Plains.
Rapid City, SD is the sponsor of this article. — www.visitrapidcity.com
No, it wasn't bad planning on my part. It just occurred to me that being one of 500,000 motorcycles in the Black Hills might be a little overwhelming. So, arriving in June instead of August for my tour, I unload the BMW R 1200 RT, and check in to Deadwood's sumptuous Hickok's Hotel, where the historic atmosphere extends beyond all of the dark wood and period-style fittings. From my window, I have an excellent view of the mock gunfight that's staged outside on the street each night.
Sturgis
Though Deadwood nestles between steep hillsides, the 12-mile run to Sturgis is actually downhill on 14A through a dreamworld of sweepers and hairpins that turns into a traffic nightmare near the Interstate.
I head north on a straight two-lane highway to Newell, the "Sheep Capital of the USA," says the sign. (100,000 sheep are sold there annually in weekly auctions.) This is classic prairie and I could be almost anywhere in the Great Plains States with the continuously undulating landscape. The grassland is interrupted only by the occasional butte, though even these are softly rounded here, unlike the steeply ridged towering bluffs of Colorado and Utah. Arguably, Bear Butte's contours have a vaguely ursine contour, though Mud Butte is just a shallow ramble of brown hillocks. I pause by a historical marker that tells me the linear contours in the ditch next to the road are the wagon ruts made by settlers on the Bismarck-Deadwood Trail, and it also notes a massacre here, one of many in the Dakota Territory between 1876-1878, as white settlers parceled out the traditional Indian lands.
Faith is a tiny hamlet named for the daughter of the president of the Milwaukee Railroad, the line that opened up this territory to settlers. And faith is what the residents have in the rainfall that sustains their farms. The town's motto: "Next year will be better…" South toward Howes, the rolling green continues, like Ireland on steroids. They must get a lot of rain (or snow) here. Enjoying the fine grazing is a herd of buffalo – or are they bison? Apparently the North American beast is far closer related to other indigenous bovines than its distant African cousins, so bison they indeed are. Hunted close to extinction, partly as a way to deprive Plains Indians of their food supply, bison were eventually re-introduced from Canadian stock, but most modern herds are genetically impure.
Heading back toward Sturgis, I become aware of two factors: one, that at the speed I have been traveling, the R 1200 RT guzzles gas like a 747 on takeoff; and that the miles-to-go reading on the onboard computer is not quite linear. At one point, I see I have enough fuel for 80 miles and just 40 miles to the next gas station. Then suddenly, only 40 miles worth remains, and I'm still 30 miles out! I glide into Sturgis on fumes.
Through the Gap
I turn north again, this time on the Can-Am Highway, US 85 to Belle Fourche, named by voyageurs for the "beautiful fork" joining the Redwater and Belle Fourche Rivers. Nearby is the "Geographical Center of the Nation," a purely trigonometrical construct that takes into account Alaska, but conveniently not Hawaii, no doubt because otherwise the center would be out in the Pacific. In any case, reaching the "center" requires 15.6 miles of deep, coarse gravel. Tempting as it is, I decide to save that for another day.
The route north to Buffalo is quite smooth. The surrounding grassland barely undulates and Buffalo, too, is unremarkable except for a spectacular art-deco high school. Turning east on Hwy 20 toward Reva, entering Custer National Forest, I'm greeted by an abrupt canyon lined with buttes, hoodoos and standing rocks: Reva Gap. A sign promises an off-road rest area and overlook, so I ease the RT along the rutted dirt track, which soon dwindles to a single rut before fading out completely. Not wanting to ride the big Beemer into unmarked oblivion, I gingerly paddle her around and retreat to the road.
Two more excitements: turning south on 79 to Hoover, I ride over a shallow pass at Slim Buttes, where the grassland below is laid out like a green baize tablecloth. Ahead, though, I can see a storm with clouds the color of ripe plums and lightning dancing in the sky.
I'm riding behind a Gray Line bus as I near the storm center and wonder if I should stick behind on the theory that the bus might be more likely to take a lightning strike. Fortunately, I just do skirt the deluge as it moves east, enduring only a short shower – and Deadwood's pavement is dry when I get back to Hickok's.
Into the Black Hills
The rain returns with a vengeance the next day, so I hunker down at Hickok's; but the following morning dawns bright and clear. I turn north out of Deadwood on 85 and I-90 Business to the 14A turnoff for Spearfish Canyon and swing through the winding ravine between soaring pine trees, steep bluffs and cascading waterfalls. With the sun just clearing the cliff tops to warm the fresh morning air, this is the kind of ride you'd want to do every day if you lived here, yet the road is surprisingly lonely. Highway 14A terminates at the historic stage stop of Cheyenne Crossing, and the parking lot of the diner which sits there now is usually filled with cruiser bikes on weekends. It's empty today, though.
South on 85 toward Newcastle takes me through more meandering canyons, although I'm soon climbing over open range dotted with pine copses to the 7,000-ft O'Neill Pass. At US16, I turn east through Custer, a neatly laid out town of clean, colorful houses and tidy gardens. I'm looking for 89 North, which will connect me with the Needles Highway. Riding delights – endearingly picturesque as they wind in and out of the pine forest, smooth of surface and exquisitely curvy – both roads are lively and challenging. Some very tight uphill hairpins cause the ST to struggle: first gear is very tall and I have to gun the engine and slip the clutch aggressively to stay upright. The Needles Highway, especially, is a romping, rollicking ride along wooded slopes lined with tarmac trickery: just what motorcycles were made for.
The Needles Highway's star attraction is a tunnel that's maybe 100 feet long but only 8 feet wide, and so too narrow for motor homes. Hooray! I learn later that I have one Peter Norbeck to thank for these delightful highways. A son of Norwegian immigrants, Norbeck served the state as Lieutenant Governor (1915-1917), its ninth Governor (1917-1921) and as a U.S. Senator (1921-1936). He was largely responsible for opening up the Black Hills as a destination with interesting driving (and riding!) roads.
The Needles Highway butts into 89, and I cut back west to travel Custer State Park's Wildlife Loop. It's quite a devious road, with numerous blind rises (often hiding stopped cars), unmarked bends, and a poor surface. Of course, its main aim is to offer wildlife sightings, not to cater to enthusiastic motorcyclists; but even so, all I saw were three small buffalo and a sad-looking deer.
Highway 16-Alt takes me back toward Mt. Rushmore. It has so many twisties I almost get whiplash! There are more tunnels, too, and a new treat: pigtail bridges. A Norbeck innovation, these 270-degree loops allow road direction and elevation changes in the minimum amount of space. They're fun to ride, too!
My first glimpse of magnificent Mount Rushmore makes me think of North by Northwest and the scenes in which Cary Grant and Eva Marie Saint are clinging desperately to any handhold on those gargantuan faces. It's an impressive memorial to greatness, and as my telephoto lens reveals, the carving is sharp and intricate. For the best views, however, sightseers must gain access at the "visitors center," a plaza about the size of Disneyland, and although admission is free, there is a $10 parking fee.
Heading back to Deadwood, I take US 385. It's marked as "scenic" on my map, but really it's just a two-lane connector heavily traveled by commercial and recreational traffic.
Finding Nemo Road
The fine weather holds for another day, and I set out to ride across country to Rapid City. Nemo Road is a classic, weaving through fields and forests as it climbs into the Black (dark-green, really) Hills. Like most roads in the region, it's perfectly engineered and immaculately surfaced, too. Neither have I run into any construction – a miracle considering what the weather must be like here in the winter. Nemo itself is a tiny farming community that was founded in 1889.
Rapid City, a cheery community of neat bungalows and clean streets, is known for its balmy microclimate, which keeps it mostly snow-free in winter while the rest of the region shivers. It's Saturday and around 9:00 a.m. when I arrive, so the garage sales are just starting up, and even their wares are tidily displayed. I stop at McDonald´s and find it to be the cleanest, best maintained, and busiest I've ever been in. The employees are well dressed and courteous, and at many tables, extended families are enjoying Saturday brunch. I wonder for a moment if I've stumbled into Pleasantville.
Mt. Rushmore Highway is a busy four-lane road lined with entertainment opportunities: the Reptile Gardens, Cockroach World, the Velvet Painting Museum… OK, I made up the last two, but you get the idea. Every star attraction begets attractions, and a giant patriotic sculpture is a big draw.
I turn off the MRH to Keystone and start looking for the Holy Terror Highway, South Dakota 40. Apparently, one William B. Franklin staked his claim on land that became the area's best producing gold mine. Fond of his drink, Franklin was often dragged home from the saloon by his wife Jenny, about whom he was wont to say, "Ain't she a holy terror?" Also in Keystone is the National Presidential Wax Museum, which wittily claims their displays go "from George W to George W…"
I'm climbing through dense forest back into the Black Hills before the road breaks out onto prairie, ending at SD79. The turn I'm looking for, SD36, is just a few hundred yards south. It's a charming, wandering road, ambling between pine stands next to a creek, and eventually leads to scenic 16A. It's here I turn south on SD87, which swings and sways through more pine forest before again opening onto high plateau. And in spite of the Columbian features (grazing bison, swaying grasses, pine trees), a blustery wind and the rolling terrain also bring to mind England's North Yorkshire Moors. The buffalo – sorry, bison – here are huge, like four-legged semi-trailers.
Hot Springs is a pleasant, affluent-looking riverfront town of adobe-colored stone buildings with its own downtown waterfall. I'd originally planned to take 79 back to Rapid City, but it looks unappetizingly straight and flat; so instead I retrace 385 to check out some more of the Black Hills roads, like 44, the Rim Rock Scenic Highway going east from Silver City – and I'm really glad I did! It's a playground of fast sweeping bends that swing through lightly wooded farmland and range, and again the surface is superb. A turnoff on Johnson's Siding Road just before Rapid City spits me back on Nemo Road for more frolicking on the way back to Deadwood. I had the road to myself this morning, but now I join groups of afternoon bikers enjoying the spring sun. Wow! What a great riding day.
Though the plains to the north of Deadwood and Sturgis have their own pastoral tranquility, I've discovered that the Black Hills are where South Dakota's best riding might lie: excellent engineering, smooth, swervy tarmac, cool, refreshing forests and rolling plains. No doubt about it – there is life in the Black Hills before Bike Week!
FACTS AND INFORMATION
Total Mileage: Approximately 912 miles.
In General
The Black Hills of South Dakota are justly recognized as one of the nation's greatest natural assets, and Deadwood itself has earned National Historic Landmark status. The sterling work of Peter Norbeck in opening up the area for travel while minimizing traffic impact through thoughtful and innovative highway design also deserves every motorcyclist's appreciation. Add the frisson of Deadwood's lively bars and casinos, as well as the Motor Classic Rally, and you have a great biker destination.
How to Get There
Interstate 90 connects Sturgis and Deadwood with Washington, Idaho and Montana to the west, and the Midwest cities to the east. Rapid City Regional Airport (RAP) offers frequent connections to Denver, Salt Lake City, Minneapolis/St Paul, Chicago and Las Vegas. June to September is a good time to visit. The Motor Classic Rally is usually in early August, but check the official rally site at www.sturgismotorcyclerally.com
Lodging
I stayed at Hickok's Hotel, named, of course, for Wild Bill. Its corner location in the heart of Deadwood's downtown is a big asset, and it also features sumptuous, recently remodeled though tastefully traditional rooms that offer all the modern appointments expected. Chocolates on your pillow, too! Visit www.hickoks.com, or call (605) 578-2222.
Roads & Biking
South of Deadwood, the Black Hills offer some of the best recreational riding roads anywhere. In early June, traffic is relatively light, but expect jams around Mount Rushmore anytime. To the north there are hundreds of miles of cruising roads, and though relatively featureless, the scenery is still easy on the eyes.
The route I traveled would be suitable for all kinds of motorcycles and almost all experience levels, although the tighter, twistier turns in the Black Hills should be treated with respect. I averaged 210-230 miles a day.
Things to Do
Mount Rushmore is a must-see at least once in your life; and every contemplative biker should take time to study Peter Norbeck's creative approach to road building in the Black Hills. His unique pigtail bridges – where the road turns underneath itself – are compact wonders of engineering. Gearheads should also check out the passenger steam railroad based in Hill City. The train is pulled by a 1928-built, oil-burning, saddle-tank 2-6-6-2 locomotive – a real torque monster!
Addresses & Phone Numbers
The official Sturgis website is at www.sturgis-sd.org, or call (605) 347-2556. The official Deadwood site is www.deadwood.org, or call 1-800-999-1876. For motorcycle rental information contact Eaglerider of Jackson, Inc. (866) 734-5110.
Books & Maps
I used Microsoft Streets and Trips to plan the tour, and my Garmin Zumo 550 to plot and travel the route. I also used the Nebraska, North Dakota and South Dakota Street Map from Universal Maps, $4.95, from www.universalmap.com or (800) 829-56277.
They called him Wild Bill (The Life and Adventures of James Butler Hickok) by Joseph G. Rosa, University of Oklahoma Press, second edition, 1979, ISBN 9780806115382, $24.95.
Recommended Literature
