Started the day by driving to Deadwood, final resting place of Wild Bill Hickcock.  Yes, there really is a Deadwood and there really was a Wild Bill.  Deadwood was a lively frontier town with an economy based largely on saloons, gambling and it’s famous ladies of the evening. Today, not much has changed.  Well, except for the ladies of the evening.  The last of them moved on in the 1980’s. It was in Deadwood that Wild Bill went in search of a poker game and was shot in the head in a saloon.  In his hand were Ace’s and Eight’s.  Now known as the Dead Man’s Hand. We walked the main street of Deadwood and then drove out of town to Mt. Moriah Cemetery, final resting place of Wild Bill, Calamity Jane and a host of other Wild West notables.

This is where I admit that Diana and I did a little Deadwood shopping.  She bought a straw cowboy hat and I took advantage of the Black Hills gold.

Then we headed south to catch a look at Mt. Rushmore in the daylight.  Taking the backroads we stumbled upon the most incredible mountain lake. The water was the color of turquoise and the sky looked like sapphires.  I know it sounds cliche but it was trying one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen. Pactola Lake.  And then Mt. Rushmore.  With high clouds in a bright blue sky it looked like the cover of my elementary school social studies book.

Unbelievable.  It’s a sight every American should see. I know it made me proud.

Our next stop was Custer State Park where we took the wildlife loop road. It was absolutely breathtaking.  We saw huge herds of buffalo roaming free, antelopes, and deer.  Just like the song. Nothing is quite so humbling as being toe-to-toe with a snorting mass of animal.  Actually, we were car to toe.  Close enough.

A short drive through the town of Custer took us to the Chief Crazy Horse Memorial.  The memorial is impressive – or will be when it’s done.  But surrounding it is a tourist trap of the worst order.  We did eat lunch there at Laughing Waters, which was recommended by Fodor’s and was our primary objective.  Imagine our surprise when we found out the restaurant was in the memorial park and they wanted a $27 admission just to drive in to the restaurant!  Diana was driving and quickly talked the park staff into letting us in without charge.  I think it was the Bulgarian accent that confused the guard into agreeing…

Lunch was delightful.  Surrounded by photos of famous Native Americans, we took advantage of the Native American specialties on the menu.  Primarily bison and fry bread.  Both get high marks from our hungry band of travelers.

After lunch we headed further south again.  To Wounded Knee.  Growing up my father’s chairside table boasted a copy of “Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee”.  The title fascinated me.  But I think I had to wait to grow up to appreciate the events that happened here.  It was the final military action of the United States government against the Indians. In a peaceful surrender a deaf Indian who wasn’t sure he wanted to give up his expensive rifle struggled with a soldier and the rifle discharged.  In the confusion surrounding the event the army began firing.  In the end 300 Oglala Sioux were dead.  More than 200 of them were women and children.  All buried in a common  pit.  On the site of the pit is a small granite monument.  It stands on the top of a windswept hill in a desolate location outside the “town” of Wounded Knee.  It is impossible to stand there and not be moved to tears. At the gate of the cemetery sat two young Indian boys sharing their tribe’s story.  After lecturing my family against panhandlers, I was the one who opened my purse and gave them money. I was too ashamed not to.  And in return they gave me a dreamcatcher they had made.  Not one made in China like we’ve seen in dozens of trading posts on this trip.  But a real one.  Made by the Indians at Wounded Knee.  My father would have approved.

The long return trip from Wounded Knee took us back through through the Badlands and into Wyoming.  Our goal had been dinner in Sundance. Which resulted in one of the biggest laughs of the trip thus far….the town that hosts an International Fil Festival – home of Robert Redford – has three restaurants, a Subway and ONE gas station.  All of which close up at 8 pm!!  A gas station that closes at 8?  Really??  A command decision put us back on the road again to Gillette, WY.

So…there we were at 10 pm eating dinner at Gillette.  In Applebees.  So much for local flavor….