Category: Touring

As I lay in the hammock this morning watching the sunrise, I hear Moe under me. He is ready to start his day. Nancy is standing in the background watching. It is already hot and the sun has just climbed above the trees.

We hung low today. At 5 p.m. Nancy comes over and says that she is taking me out to dinner at Proz, a restaurant a short distance on this lake east from the campground.

We head into the sunset as we drive back to our campsite.

Moe is overjoyed to have us return. We all sit together in the screen tent until dark.

Moe gets his last walk of the day. Nancy and Moe head into the camper. I settle into the hammock.

After four days of the same campground, we pack up to leave. The camp host, Richard, and his girlfriend have stopped in a few times every day to visit. They come by today to say goodbye and scratch Moe’s head one last time.

We head to Linton, but this time we turn left and head north on Route 83, which will first bring us to Hazelton. In 2022, when I left Nancy in Mandan at Fort Lincoln State Park, I crossed the Missouri River into Bismarck and rode to Hazelton to spend the night in the city park. Today, we stop at the same gas station/ cafe where I stopped in 2022 for dinner to bring to the campsite. Memories. I go into the store for ice for the coolers and ice cream for me.  Nancy fills the gas tank; I also come out with some Dr. Peppers for the road.

We cross the Trans-Am route to head north into new territory.

The four-hour drive ends at the state campground on Devils Lake. It is early, mid-afternoon. We get to our site and set up camp. Nancy and Moe drive to the water to see the birds. I stay to set up the hammock and tent.

It is hot, 100°, and this site has many trees for shade. I take advantage of the foliage blocking the sun. Nancy and Moe come back as the sun settles below the tree line. We sit in the screen tent until 10 p.m. and begin the process, getting ready for bed.

I am lying in the hammock awake. It is 7 a.m. The sun is up. I think I am the only one here not sleeping. There is fog over the water and dew on the tent. I am under the cover of the two trees holding the hammock.

I go get Moe and take him for his morning walk, then feed him breakfast, a bowl of the usual that is always his favorite. No complaints from him. The bowl is quickly emptied. He now waits for me to cook my toast and eggs, also his favorite. Patiently, he waits to lick the plate clean of all the yolk the fork and toast left behind. He is a big helper. Cleaning the dishes is easy after he is done.

I’m in the shade out of the noon sun, 90°. Looking at the forecast, it will top out at 102°. Nancy has gone inside and closed the windows to be in the air conditioning. I prefer the fresh air breeze. Moe prefers to be with his Mommy.

The day cooled a few degrees. Still hot, the intermittent breeze cools the stagnant heat. The cycle continues. It’s dinner time. I clean the dishes and walk to the bathhouse for a cool shower. I step outside, the sun setting.

The sun is now gone. The light sky is still here. The cool breeze is now gentle. The air is once again comfortable. Sleeping will be pleasant.

The mornings here are so nice. I haven’t yet heard any sounds from civilization. Wind and birds are what I first hear. I stay in the hammock and enjoy the void of people. As the sky brightens, Nancy and Moe walk over and join me. Moe’s routine is to climb onto me, and the two of us rock with the wind. This only lasts a few seconds before he jumps off and waits for me to put my feet on the ground too. His whole pack is together again. What could be better in a dog’s world?

Breakfast comes and goes in less time than it takes to cook it. Coffee takes just as much time; the sipping lingers as I settle into a chair on the banks of the Missouri River. I drift into thought of how it must have looked when Lewis and Clark set foot here in 1804.  No houses in the distant rolling hills.

Ah, coffee is over; dishes are cleaned. Nancy is working on her blog, and Moe is sleeping in her shadow. I get up; Moe wakes up. I hook him to his leash, and off we go to look at the remote tent sites.

After a “quick” drive into Linton to get ice and a few food items, we are back to sitting in the shade, escaping the 100° heat. The 90% chance of a thundershower did not happen. Yet, anyway. I took down the hammock before leaving. I hope to string it back up later.

Chicken stir-fry for dinner. The wind is now strong, and it’s 100°. Nancy went for a swim and then to the showers. I cleaned the dishes and rehung the hammock. I feel like it’s time to relax before bed, being 7 p.m. It is so light here, and the sun is still high in the sky; it looks like 3 p.m. back home.

It is 9:30 pm and it is still not dark. We are sitting in chairs outside the camper. Two young men from Alberta, Canada, are walking by, so Moe needs to go over and introduce himself. We end up talking quite a while with Travis and Dave; they are touring on motorcycles. I hand them my card.

The sun is up. I am awake, gently swaying with the soft, cool breeze. I hear the camper door open and watch Nancy walking toward me. Moe is running. Nancy lifts him to sit on my belly. Lick…lick…lick all over my face, leaving a tongue smear across both lenses of my reading glasses. Looks, pun intended, like it’s time to get up and make breakfast.

The day is quiet. The campground is almost empty. I decide to liven the morning with a hike.

Lewis and Clark’s journals
Tuesday, October 16, 1804

Friendly contact with river tribes continued as the expedition headed up the Missouri. On this cool and windy day, they traveled about 5 miles, passing vacant earth lodge village sites. Great numbers of elk and buffalo were evident; at one point, the expedition witnessed Indians killing the goats with sticks as the animals tried to cross the river. Clark counted 58 kills. At the campsite, about 4 miles north and across the river from Beaver Creek, Indians visited; “those Indians stayed all night, they sung and were very merry the greater part of the night.”

The reference to “goats” is historically accurate in Lewis and Clark’s journals—they often used the term “goats” for what we now know as pronghorn antelope.

Back at the campsite, I find that it is still quiet. As I sit, I hear an occasional echo of human activity off in the distance. This is a nice campground. I am sitting on a bank looking across the Missouri River, surrounded by the sound of wind.

Well, once again, it is 6:00 p.m., and look at the sun. Where did the day go?

We have a long drive ahead of us. I have the hammock and tent packed up. I’m ready to go. First, we will stop at the camp lodge and have breakfast.

The drive begins. The Badlands are now behind us as the memories come with me. I wish I had time to see more. We are in the prairie of South Dakota heading north. This is Cheyenne and Sioux territory.

Crossing into North Dakota, the vegetation has more color. Just a subtle change. I remember noticing the small differences in 2022 while double-crossing the continent. It’s not just the cars, the style of house design, or the way people interact. It is also the landscape. Why? The states are just boundaries established by people.

The long drive is magnified by crossing into a different time zone. Mountain to Central, we gained an hour. Another boundary manufactured by humans. Nature doesn’t need us; we need nature. It is unfortunate that our culture has declined and this is not being acknowledged.

The countdown begins. Ten miles from the end of the drive, now five miles. Now two miles, and I see the sign for the campground. Our campsite is on the Missouri River. Camp is set.

We drive into Linton, ND, for groceries.

This end of the time zone, the sunsets late. I relax and enjoy this peaceful place.

Nancy is up early and ready to go hike some trails. Dogs are not allowed on the trails in this park, so I will stay with Moe while Nancy hikes. I make breakfast and enjoy a leisurely coffee while Moe relaxes in the shade. I finish cleaning the dishes and toss the ball for Moe. He really enjoys this activity. His vision is not what it was a few years ago; he is fourteen, long in the tooth. But if I toss the ball to bounce near him, he can hear where it is to fetch and bring it back for another toss.  Nancy is now back.

I get ready to ride up Cedar Pass to explore this side of the park.

I decide to ride an old gravel road, the Old North East Road.

Now back on the park road, I follow it to the exit of the park and walk the bike over the boarded walkway to the lookout.

I am now heading back to the campsite. I shower and relax for a few hours. It is 5:00 pm, we put Moe in the camper, we drive the lodge for a quick dinner. Then back to get Moe and drive to the Yellow Mounds for some golden hour and setting sun photos.

We get back to camp as the sun disappears.

I look at the forecast; it will rain tonight. I pack up the hammock; I will sleep in the tent. I am now in the tent listening to the rain fall above me. I love this sound.

As I was just waking up, I felt light drops of rain on my face, confirming the faint sound of rain against the hammock. It was over before I got wet.

The wind is strong, blowing the heat from under the frying pan. The bread under the grill failed to get brown. Today was eggs sunny-side-up with warm bread. I still got the calories for a ride. I’m getting ready to ride part of the Badlands Scenic Loop Highway. 

I’m on the Loop and stopping more than riding to look and photograph the beauty. The biting flies are brutal; they swarm, and as I ride, I’m swatting three-to-four at a time off each leg as I ride. They get on my feet and bite through my socks.

It is stifling. I need to eat, but so it is a packaged meal. Still craving ice cream, we drove to Interior to gas the car,  get ice, and ice cream.

We are loaded and ready to leave, Custer State Park. The first stop is a CVS and laundromat in Rapid City. But the first stop turned out to be the side of the road to photograph a lone buffalo resting by the side of the road.

Well, back on the road again through the Black Hills.

The rest of the trip to our campground for a few days, Badlands National Park has an interesting appeal. I like being in the vast open space that foreshadows the end of our day.

We arrive at Cedar Pass Campground nestled in a corner of what was once a sea bed. The sun is down, the moon is up, and the stars fill the sky.

I open my eyes at five in the morning, wondering if it is noon. Six o’clock comes, the sun is up, and Nancy comes out of the camper wanting to leave as soon as possible. We are on the road by 8:00 a.m.

The scenery begins to change. I notice more trees and greener grasses.

We are close to Custer State Park. It is barely noon, so we enter the park and start driving through to get to our campground.

Coolidge Campground is small with only twelve sites. We set up. Nancy goes to the park store and brings back a pizza with buffalo meat. Great pizza, by the way. It is 7:45. We take Moe for his nightly walk along the bike trail. We see at least three deer along the way.

The sun is out of sight somewhere below the tree line. I pitch my tent and take a shower. I wake mid-night and see the beautiful sky.