Day 4:
August 6, 2018
Another night with Dennis at his Keystone motel and it was time to finish up this out and back ride. Dennis trailered me back to Hill City and the trail once again saving me ten extra miles of uphill highway bicycling. I was looking forward to what I thought was to be a mostly downhill ride. Unfortunately, I was not looking at my map or I would have known otherwise. When you are riding your memory can play tricks on you. You remember in detail your uphill struggles and tend to forget those long gradual downhill false flats. However, much like the previous day, this section had a deceptive long and gradual uphill section not cataloged in my brain. Starting at Mystic and continuing for just about nineteen miles is a gain of over two thousand feet of elevation. Fortunately, much of this is through the most scenic portion of the trail with rocky gorges, mountain streams and scenic vistas to make it seem effortless. For a time I stopped and watched a couple of trout fishermen try their luck for something other than gold in a cold, clear mountain stream and shared beaver stories with a couple of amateur natrualists I met along the trail. Further down the trail I passed signs both old and new that gold fever once and still occasionally infects the local economy.
At long last I reached the high point of the trail and my anticipated long, speedy descent down into Deadwood. Deadwood was in full on Sturgis Rally mode with motorcycles and people crowding every venue from local antique shops to the bar and casino strip. On this strip there are no less than three different drinking establishments claiming the honor of being the Old No. 10 Saloon where Wild Bill Hickok was shot. Back when old Wild Bill bit his bullet the actual saloon was known as Nuttal & Mann’s saloon. It burned down in 1879 but the one in the picture stands in the same spot where the old Nuttal & Mann’s saloon once dished out drinks and death. One of the other “Old No. 10s is said to have the actual chair Wild Bill was sitting in and other decor from the original Nuttal & Mann’s but it may be just another way to separate the rubes from their rubies. Also featured prominently on just about every other sign and tee shirt was the “dead man’s hand” of aces and eights. Two pair was definitely a losing hand for old Wild Bill. After an hour or so trying to walk the crowded sidewalks of this town I decided that there was no food, drink, casino or souvenir shop that was worth the jostle of going in to. Still, it was an interesting sight and if there was any manufacturer of motorcycles not represented in the armada of machines parked in every conceivable space, it is a brand unknown to the modern world. This old gold town was now making a living from iron, steel and a lot of human flesh.
With my bike loaded I drove off to Keystone and my last night in the Black Hills. Dennis had been enjoying his rides and covering far more countryside than I could while I was gone. Even so, we each enjoyed the Black Hills to the same degree in our different ways. If you decide to ride the George S. Mickelson Trail, I can offer nothing but encouragement. It was worth the time and the couple of thousand miles it took for me to get there as well as the effort required to pedal it in both directions. Hats off to South Dakota, former Governor, George S. Mickelson and all those who created this wonder filled experience.
