This is a terrific section of the journey because it has almost everything: exercise, history, spectacular scenery, mechanical problems, an increasingly unhappy foot, an emergency change of plans, camping adventures, Annie heading home, and finally the preparation for Yellowstone. It also feels like a natural transition from the Dakotas into the mountains of Wyoming and Montana.
Before heading to the Black Hills we needed to attend to my foot. Upon waking in Custer Park we asked around and found the best place to stop and have my foot x-rayed by an orthopedic was in Rapid City, SD. We stumbled across a great emergency center. In less than 1 hour I was checked in, had x-rays, consulted with the Orthopedic, learned of the sprain in my foot, received a boot to protect my foot, along with prescription for over the counter creams. Armed with this we ventured to the Black Hills for our next chapter of the journey.
From the Badlands to Bozeman — Bikes, Black Elk Peak, Mount Rushmore & a Boot
Leaving the otherworldly landscape of the South Dakota Badlands, Annie and I headed west toward the Black Hills. After a few hours on the road, we arrived in Hill City, South Dakota, where we decided that the best way to see the area would be from two wheels.
So naturally, we rented bicycles.
Our destination was the George S. Mickelson Trail, the spectacular rail-trail that runs through the heart of the Black Hills. We set out for a 20-mile round trip, with the first ten miles taking us predominantly uphill toward the Crazy Horse Memorial. At the time, going uphill seemed like a perfectly reasonable idea. Ten miles later, we had a slightly different opinion. The good news was that the return trip was predominantly downhill. Suddenly, the brilliance of our planning became obvious.
After the bike ride, we headed to Sheridan Lake Campground, got ourselves settled, and then discovered that our work was not quite finished. Remember that slow leak in the truck tire? It was still with us. So we headed back into Hill City and found a gas station where we could give the tire another shot of air. Then came another essential component of expedition life: laundry. Clean clothes secured, we moved on to dinner.
We found the Prairie Berry/Prairie Bar area and settled in for a margarita pizza and a drink before heading toward Mount Rushmore for the evening program.
Mount Rushmore at Night
There is something different about seeing Mount Rushmore after dark.
During the day, it is easy to concentrate on the engineering and sheer scale of the monument. In the evening, with the mountain illuminated and the surrounding Black Hills fading into darkness, the experience becomes considerably more dramatic. The evening program added the history and ceremony that help explain why this particular mountainside became one of America’s most recognizable landmarks.
After the program, we returned to Sheridan Lake and settled into camp.
It had been a very full day. And apparently, we weren’t done.
Black Elk Peak — A Beautiful Idea With a Painful Ending
The next morning started exactly the way a good road-trip morning should: Breakfast. Coffee. Then adventure. We headed into the Black Elk Wilderness with the goal of hiking to Black Elk Peak, the highest point in South Dakota and the highest summit east of the Rocky Mountains in the United States. The hike was substantial. There was approximately 1,500 feet of elevation gain and corresponding descent, and by the time we reached the summit, my previously damaged foot had made its opinion unmistakably clear. It was not impressed with my itinerary. The views, however, were spectacular. From the summit, the granite spires, forests and ridges of the Black Hills stretch in every direction. It is one of those places where the physical effort required to get there is immediately justified by the view. Unfortunately, my foot apparently believed it had already contributed enough to the expedition.
After the hike, we discovered a lovely mountain lodge where we stopped for lunch. While there, a wonderful Native American woman gave us some advice about where we might spend the night. Her recommendation turned out to be one of those gifts that road trips occasionally provide. She directed us toward a beautiful campground with electricity and showers. After a long hike, the word showers suddenly became very high on our list of desirable amenities.
Through the Needles
We headed toward Custer State Park, taking the spectacular Needles Highway along the way. The road winds through the granite formations of the Black Hills, squeezing through narrow passages and revealing enormous rock spires at nearly every turn.
It is one of those roads where you find yourself saying, “There is no way the truck is going to fit through there.” And then it does. Eventually we arrived at Grace Coolidge Campground, where we set up for the night. This was also the first opportunity to deploy the new Overland Vehicle Systems 270 LE awning. And, as often happens with camping gear, the real test wasn’t whether it looked good when installed. The real test was whether it created a comfortable little outdoor living room once camp was established. It did. We also met a lovely couple from Georgia, proving once again that campgrounds are essentially America’s largest informal social network. Annie cooked a wonderful dinner while I handled camp setup. That division of labor seemed entirely fair to me.
Then My Foot Filed a Formal Complaint
After dinner I took a shower and finally got a good look at my right foot.
The swelling and pain were no longer something I could reasonably classify as “probably fine.” The 1,500-foot hike had exacted its toll. And so the next morning, rather than simply continuing down the road and hoping for the best, we went looking for an orthopedic clinic.
That turned out to be a very good decision. The X-ray showed a sprain, and the doctor fitted me with a boot. Nothing says rugged American road trip quite like standing in a doctor’s office wearing hiking clothes and being issued orthopedic equipment. My expedition suddenly had a new piece of essential gear: The Boot.
Devils Tower, Little Bighorn and Billings
With the foot stabilized, we continued west into Wyoming.
Our next major destination was Devils Tower, one of the most extraordinary geological formations in the American West. From there we made a drive-by visit to the Little Bighorn Battlefield, another place where the landscape and American history intersect in a particularly powerful way. It was a day of moving from one iconic Western landscape to another. Eventually we arrived in Billings, Montana, where Annie had booked us a lovely hotel. After several nights of camping, hiking, biking and general expedition chaos, a hotel room felt pretty luxurious. I treated us to an amazing dinner. There was only one problem. The portions were enormous. Neither of us could finish. But that wasn’t really a problem.
We packed everything up as leftovers, turning tonight’s excess into tomorrow’s lunch. That’s called expedition efficiency.
Bozeman — Recharge Before Yellowstone
The following morning we continued toward Bozeman. And after the previous few days, we decided our bodies deserved some attention. We both indulged in infrared saunas and compression boots, followed by some time exploring Bozeman. It was a nice pause before entering the next major chapter of the trip. Then we headed out to Norris Hot Springs for a night of camping and hot springs. The springs were packed-over a hundred people enjoying the water. It was quite a contrast to our recent remote camping experiences.
And then Montana decided to remind us that camping is never completely under our control.
The Rainstorm
The rain started coming down hard. Then we noticed something we really didn’t want to notice: Moisture inside the rooftop tent. We had a leak. Not exactly the souvenir I had hoped to bring into Yellowstone. We found the source of the problem, covered the tent with a tarp and managed to keep ourselves dry. The truck, tent and expedition system had now passed another real-world test. Not necessarily elegantly. But successfully.
Saying Goodbye to Annie
The next morning came far too quickly. I dropped Annie at the Bozeman airport for her flight back to Washington, D.C. After traveling together through the Dakotas, Badlands and Black Hills, suddenly I was back to traveling solo. There was something fitting about the timing. The trip had started as a solo expedition, but along the way friends had joined me, shared campgrounds, meals, hikes, laughter and unexpected adventures. Annie had become part of this particular chapter. Now it was time for the next chapter. Yellowstone.
But first, I had some work to do.
The Bozeman Reset
I spent the rest of the day- and Sunday night- in Bozeman. It became something of a personal expedition maintenance day. I:
- Repaired the rooftop tent leak.
- Purchased and installed a Starlink Mini on the truck.
- Made a stop at REI for additional gear.
- Exercised at Planet Fitness.
- Checked into a hotel.
- And, most importantly, got a really solid night’s sleep.
The next morning I was back at Planet Fitness again, filled the truck’s leaking tire with air, and went grocery shopping. There was a very specific reason for the groceries. I was preparing for four days in Yellowstone National Park. After weeks of moving through the country, the road trip was about to reach one of its great destinations. And this time there would be no Annie, no hotel safety net and no restaurant waiting around the corner.
Just me, the Ram, the rooftop tent, the new Starlink, the healing foot in its boot, enough food for several days — and Yellowstone.