Got back today about 630p...great ride back through So Dak yesterday taking 34 and 212, and a comfortable ride through light rain most of the way back through Minnesota today. The Devils Tower ride is a highlight...fun to ride with like-minded riders and enjoyed chatting with most of you at the campground. Great trip!
Got to "meet" some locals yesterday at a pulloff on the west side of the Missouri River yesterday on 212. There are several picnic shelters, but ironically the one I chose had no picnic tables.....The pulloff was a little strange..a one lane blacktop that lead to the edge of the river, and a grassy area to the right that served as a parking area of sorts. I pulled off, and parked the bike on the blacktop pointing towards, grabbed my water and phone, and a map. I walked under the shelter to get out of the sun, and about two minutes into my break, I heard a car approaching, then heard a truck honking and saw an old Lincoln , with bad shocks and covered from wheels to rooftop in red dust and dirt, come careening off the high way and turn onto the blacktop where the Pooch was parked, with my helmet and jacket resting on the seat. In the car, with the windows down were three revellers, laughing and yelling at the offending truck that he;d cut off. Number One, the driver, turned off the blacktop and bounced into the grassy parking area, gently hitting the fence marking the boundary. At first I thought they were looking for a place to fish, but as they got out of the car, it was apparent they were simply looking for a place to drink , other than in just the car. Number 2, riding shotgun, opened his door and wrestled with a styrofoam icechest. I was gathering up my stuff and headed back to the Pooch, when he called out to me, thinking I was someone he knew, and cajoled on getting a new bike. Number Three, seated in the back seat, appeared to be the most sober of the three, and realized that there was no where to sit. His comments to Number Two went unheeded as Two lurched towards me and the bike with his arms holding the icechest like flight attendants advise us to use seat cushions in the event of a water landing. About this time, Number Two seemed to realize he didnt know me, and his ramblings quickly devolved into comparisons of my bike with his Road King at home....Number Three finally got his attention regarding the plight of there being no place to sit, and apparently focused the three on their quest to find a restful drinking spot. Number One got the Lincoln started, and after revving the tired V8 repeatedly, found the shift lever and managed to back out of the spot. My hackles rose as they slowly rode past, glaring and presumably weighing options, and I admit , when I got turned around and outta there, I didnt stop for anything but gas until I was clear of the Cheyenne River Valley.
Lesson learned....just like you never sit with your back to the door in a bar you dont know, dont park the bike if you cant leave without turning around.....