Dakota Picnic

Once upon a time, there was a big celebration in Lodi put on by a group of northern plains emigres called the Dakota Picnic. It seems a lot of people from that part of the country moved to California to escape the Dust Bowl and found paradise with no cold winter weather. So they put on a big celebration to eat bratwurst and drink beer and dance the polka.

Today of course, the migration is moving the other way. Stoker and I have friends who have moved to Idaho and Iowa and Kentucky and Ohio and even Florida. So far Stoker and I are staying put. But we did just take a one week trip to South Dakota, touring the area around Rapid City on a bus instead of a bike.

We were on tour with Setness Tours, a local company that runs day trips and week long tours and overseas excursions to many destinations. We have toured with them before and can say that they put together some great itineraries. Check them out at https://www.setness.com/ .

South Dakota definitely has a lot to see. We went to Lead (rhymes with deed) and Deadwood. We toured the huge Homestake mine and enjoyed a buffet lunch in a casino, something we never do.

We went on an open air bison safari and saw lots of the massive beasts, along with deer and elk and big horn sheep and wild Modestines that loved to beg for carrots.

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We went to the Black Hills National Park and Badlands National Park and Custer State Park, which so far retains its name, as South Dakota is much less ‘woke’ than many other parts of the country. All the countryside was very impressive, but Badlands is especially so. From Rapid City you drive through what seems like infinite miles of rolling grassland prairie, then suddenly you come up to this:

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The road through the Badlands National Park would be spectacular for cycling, but there are way too many cars and campers and trailers and tour buses. So I was kind of shocked to see the Trek Travel had a tour with at least 20 riders. The scenery was truly magnificent but it cannot have been a pleasant cycling experience.

And no trip to the area is complete without a trip to Mount Rushmore. We did it twice, once during the daylight hours and once for The Illumination. The Illumination is a ceremony that begins at 9 pm with a dramatic speech from a ranger who spoke of freedom and liberty and how in America we are free to do what we want and go where we want and be what we can be. Although I wanted to put away my political cynicism in such a dramatic and patriotic setting, I had a nagging thought about whether this has been true for the last 18 months.

At 9 pm there is still enough light to see the monument towering high above the amphitheater. But as the talk and the movie proceed, darkness comes on and it disappears. Suddenly, as the movie reaches its climax of a patriotic tribute to our country, the spotlights go on and the presidential faces high above are brilliantly lit up. Time for some goosebumps.

More goosebumps follow. We sang ‘The Star Spangled Banner’, and as far as I could tell everyone sang with full voice, on key or not. Finally, the ranger who had given the dramatic speech invited all veterans and active duty personnel to join her on stage to take down and fold the American Flag.

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There must have been over 100 people who came up on stage, to sustained and enthusiastic applause. Then as the flag was lowered and folded there was dead silence from the crowd of more than 2000 people watching. When the ceremony was complete everyone left both subdued and elated and maybe a bit teary.

We lightened things up the next morning at an animal park. Along with the many animals roaming in a natural setting there were four baby bears cavorting and swimming and climbing trees and wrestling with each other. If that didn’t make you smile, check to see if you have a pulse. Then off to the airport for a couple of flights and around 7 hours of continuous mask wearing, vaccinations be damned. We were able to remove them for burgers and much needed vodka in the Denver airport, but after we left Smashburger it was masks on all the time, as the flight attendant seemed to take great joy in reminding us. Even between sips of the water they allowed us, we were supposed to pull them back up. I struck a small blow for freedom by holding my bottle to my lips unmasked for about 1 minute, risking rebuke. What a rebel I can be!

A surprise awaited us when we finally arrived at our cars back in Stockton sometime around 1 am Saturday morning. But that is another blog…