Thursday, July 9, 1992

9 July 1992: Rapid City, South Dakota to Bozeman, Montana

We left Rapid City, South Dakota very early in the morning. We had 593 miles (954 km) of highway before we reached our destination of Bozeman, Montana. It was a twelve hour drive, the longest day of the trip in miles traveled, and second longest in terms of hours.

We followed South Dakota Highway 79 south 18 miles (29 km), then followed South Dakota Highway 36 west 9 miles (14 km) until we reached U.S. Route 16A.

U.S. Route 16A is a 39 mile (63 km) scenic loop through the Black Hills of South Dakota.

We entered Custer State Park, a beautiful park with a diversity of wildlife to see. The most memorable were the park's famous Begging Burros, a herd of donkeys that love to beg for food from motorists.

We first encountered the donkeys as we approached a small hill. A dozen or more donkeys trotted down the hill, blocking the car and the cars behind us. They proceeded to approach cars for food. Our windows were up, so they began licking the car windows from all sides.

Donkey outside the car window

My grandmother, never a brave woman where animals of any sort were concerned, began waving her arms in a mad panic. To her, the donkeys were as much of a threat as a group of bears. She begged my mother and I not to get out of the car, but we ignored her.

The donkeys were exceedingly friendly beasts. They ate out of our hands, and allowed us to pet them. Several of them were also clearly verging on being fat. We had a bucket full of treats we'd bought for the ride, and ended up feeding most of them to the donkeys. They especially liked Sno Balls.

Donkeys surrounding the car while my mother gets more food

My mother got some of the creme filling from a Sno Ball on one of her fingers, and the donkey she was feeding bit down on it. Not hard mind you, and once my mother shouted "hey!" and the donkey realized it wasn't biting into food, it let go and looked as apologetic as a donkey can.

My mother just before she got bit

After the donkeys realized we were out of food, they moved on to the car behind us to beg for more.

The herd moves on to the next vehicle for more food

We returned to the car, where my grandmother was still in a panic, and continued on, the car windows now coated with donkey drool.

About 15 miles (24 km) northwest on U.S. Route 16A, we saw the Crazy Horse Monument, which will be the world's largest mountain carving when completed. At the time, it was still a very rough work in progress,  but we could clearly see the outline of the 87.5 feet (26.7 m) tall head of Crazy Horse carved in the mountain.

Crazy Horse Monument under construction

16 miles (26 km) north of the monument, we turned east on South Dakota Highway 244, which took us to the famous Mount Rushmore National Memorial. We could see it miles away, and the carved faces of the four presidents only grew larger as we got closer. Sculptures on that scale are always brilliant pieces of art to see. We stopped at the memorial's visitor center for a better look.

Mount Rushmore

We followed South Dakota Highway 244 back to U.S. Route 16A, stopping for one last look at Mount Rushmore from the east. Then we went north on U.S. Route 385 37 miles (60 km) through the Black Hills to the infamous Deadwood, South Dakota.

Franklin Hotel, Deadwood, South Dakota

The most memorable place in Deadwood for me was Mt. Moriah Cemetery, the final resting place for Wild Bill Hickok, Calamity Jane, and Potato Creek Johnny, among others.

Mt. Moriah Cemetery, Deadwood, South Dakota

Grave markers of Calamity Jane and Wild Bill Hickock

Replica of Wild Bill's original grave marker

Grave marker of Potato Creek Johnny

A brief jaunt on U.S. Route 85 took us back to Interstate 90. 270 miles (435 km) west, we stopped at the Little Bighorn Battlefield National Monument in Montana, where what became known in popular history as Custer's Last Stand occurred in 1876.

It was late afternoon when we arrived at Little Bighorn. The sun was low in the western sky, and its light struck the large stone monument over the mass grave of the American soldiers at the top of the hill, casting a long shadow. There were markers on the hillside where each soldier had fallen. What was once the site of a bloody battle was now a somber yet serene testament to history. Seven years after we were there, red granite markers began to be placed indicating where Native American warriors had fallen, which was long overdue, as they were the ones who fell fighting against an invading army.

Little Bighorn Battlefield National Monument

Markers showing where Custer and his troops fell in battle

63 miles (101 km) further west, we stopped in Billings, Montana for dinner. We ate at a little hamburger place, decorated in classic 1950s style inside. There were phones at each booth. We called in our orders, and then when they were ready, a waitress delivered them to the table. It was a sit-down restaurant, but it was designed to function more like a classic drive-in.

143 miles (230 km) later, we finally arrived in Bozeman, Montana. We checked into our reserved rooms at the Prime Rate Motel. We went immediately to bed, knowing we had an even longer day ahead of us upon waking.

Total Travel Distance: 593 miles (954 km)

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