A quick fuel up and I'm on I-90 heading west. South Dakota is a pretty state with lots of contrasts. There are the wide vistas of rolling plains, the desolation of the Bad Lands and the mystery appeal of the Black Hills. All are pleasing to the eye and certainly enjoyable to ride through. All along the highway are the signs for Wall Drugs, a huge drugstore emporium dating back to the early 1930s. I visited Wall Drugs once before back in the mid 90's so it was well time for a return visit. When I eventually got there I found a parking place right by the front door. Lucky me as this place is a huge tourist draw. The store takes up an entire block on the main street and has several entrances. Originally a simple drug store it now has many shops within the store. Western wear, leather goods, glassware, camping equipment, rocks and gems and the usual T-Shirt and art shops. Oh and there still is a drugstore section so you can actually get a prescription filled.
Once back on the road I set my sights on making Montana, perhaps Billings, by nightfall. I head off onto Hwy 85 at Sturgis and shoot North on US 212. I rode this remote highway earlier on the trip heading East. It was such an enjoyable road through the high plains I decided to do a replay in the opposite direction. After Sturgis it's a quick run to the Wyoming State Line. You are only in Wyoming for about forty or fifty miles and then you enter Montana. Along the way there were lots of antelopes grazing on the prairie grass creating the odd photo opportunity.
I came to the top of a rise and looked out over the valley where some nasty looking weather was brewing. Entering the valley I pull into the small town of Ashland and decided it would be prudent to don my rain gear. Once decked out I ride less than a quarter mile and see the trees on the side of the road in front of me are bending over nearly in half. There is a huge cloud or red dust roaring through the trees and houses hurling debris across the road. It hits me hard on my right and I almost lose the bike right there. Struggling to keep it upright the wind is pushing me across the the road. There is a car approaching towards me and I'm helplessly being shoved into it's oncoming path. This is scary stuff indeed as now I've passed in front of the car and heading for the ditch trying to simultaneously stop the bike and remain upright. The wind is pushing harder now and I'm trying to look away from the ditch and hard to my right to force the bike back to the right side of the road but to no avail. At the last second I get another blast of wind and magically a driveway is there and I go with the wind and turn left into it. My heart's pounding and I come to a stop but the wind is continuing to blast it's way across the road. I manage to turn the bike so the wind was at my back hoping the narrower profile will enable me to stand upright and not take the blast broadside. At this point I have nowhere to go except hunker down over the tank and let the wind, dust and now bullet like rain drive into my back. This lasts about another ten minutes and there is a slight lull. I seize this opportunity, wrestle the bike around and make a mad dash for some shelter in the town. The first place I come to is a cafe / convenience store so I get around the back on the lee side of the storm and park. Let me tell you friends and neighbours my hands were shaking and my heart was pounding like a drum. The scariest part was being driven across the path of the oncoming car and I realized how close I'd come to what could have been a very bad situation. Once inside the cafe I wait the storm out for about 45 minutes. The sky lightens up and the winds abate considerably. I decide now is the time to get out of Dodge while the getting was good!
The wind had let up considerably, however; it is still gusting and pushing me around but nowhere to the extent it was and I can keep the bike on the road. The rain is still biting so it's visor down and keep low to the tank. I have about an hour and a half to get to Little Bighorn where I know there is a service station, a casino and maybe, just maybe, a motel. By the time I get to Little Bighorn it's dark, cold and still raining hard. Oh and of course under those circumstances there isn't a hotel. There is a hospital and I shudder thinking back to the incident in Ashland, thankful I wasn't a guest of that establishment. I suck it up and hunker down for the sixty mile ride to Billings. About fifteen miles into it I see a sign announcing the town of Hardin was approaching. More signs appeared boasting of the casinos, gas stations, eateries and lodging that could be found in this fair town! This is great news as frankly I wasn't looking forward to riding all the way to Billings.
I shoot off at the first exit, see a well-lit friendly looking establishment and book in for the night. Ironically there are two other bikes parked there, both with B.C. plates. I run into the riders a bit later on and we chatted about the storm. They were a couple of hours ahead of me so they didn't experience that initial blast that I got. They were hammered nonetheless going through the same mountain stretch as I had ridden. There were four of them, two men and two woman all from Fort St. John. They too had been out to the East Coast and like me were making their way homeward.
The B.C. crew were heading to the casino next door and asked if I was going to go too. I declined, opting for a hot shower, a bite to eat and a cozy bed. Besides after this afternoon's adventure I thought I'd pretty much played my luck for the day!
Good Night!
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