Highway 93 2024
  
 

Day 15

July 1

  
   
   
  I cannot recall how many times in the past I have ridden right by the Little Big Horn Battlefield and not stopped. I decided this year was going to be the year that I did. So I get BlueBelle ready to go and we're off to be there at their opening time of 8 AM like their website says.  
   
  It's just a short hop from Hardin so I am there in plenty of time for the 8 AM opening.  
   
  But when I arrive their sign says something different. They don't open until 9 AM so I am left with a decision.  
   
  The whole place is shut up tighter than a drum so I can't just ease in and take a look around. So do I sit tight for over an hour or roll on by once again? I purposefully wanted to get early so I could visit the battlefield without a bunch of people.  
   
 

I have this debate within my own head -

"Well, you could just come back another time."

"But what's the rush? You've only got a motel room waiting on you. So what if you're an hour late?"

At the end of the prolonged discussion, I grab my Bible out of my saddlebag, sit in a shady spot by the wall and read for an hour or so until they finally open the gates.

  
   
  Once I gain entrance, it is not lost on me that it is July 1 and it would have been only 5 days after the battle 148 years ago. The soldier's blood and horse carcasses would still have been very visible where they lay.  
   
 

There is a nice memorial right on top the hill, somewhat higher up than where Custer and his men fell. The plaque reads -

The remains of about 220 soldiers, scouts and civilians are buried around the base of this memorial. The white marble headstones scattered over the battlefield denote where the slain troopers were found and originally buried. The officers remains were removed in 1877 to various cemeteries throughout the country. General Custer was buried at West Point.

 

  
   
  It's overcast and quite fitting given the somberness of this place.  
   
  I was surprised to learn that there were only about 40 men that made it to here with Custer out of the over 200 men that were with him in his group.  
   
  The final position of Custer and where he fell is marked with a black shield on his stone.  
   
  It is such a peaceful setting now but hard to imagine how it was on that fateful day.  
   
  Nearby there is a marker for the horse graveyard. The last troopers had shot their horses in hopes of using them as a sort of breastworks for their defenses.  
   
  As I ride around the park roads, I see other markers to denote where other troopers fell during the prolonged battle. It begins to gently rain upon the battlefield and somehow that feels very appropriate to me. It is military lesson that has often been forgotten that when a general makes bad choices he does not tend to die alone.  
   
  I'm so very glad that I stopped and took the time but I need to move on down Highway 212. It is a 'short cut' across the corner of Wyoming from Montana that drops you right into South Dakota.  
   
  Those pesky rain clouds seem to keep coming across my path though I am trying to run away from them.  
   
  I keep rolling along hoping for the best and those clouds keep rolling along right with me.  
   
  I finally seem to have escaped them but I will find out differently before the day ends.  
   
  Gas along Highway 212 can be a bit iffy, so I pull into the Corner Store in Broadus, Montana.  
   
  Then it's back out to the long straight stretches of Highway 212.  
   
  I've been this way more than once since it is a state line feast. You have Wyoming on one side and Montana on the other side then ...  
   
  a little bit down the road you have South Dakota. In both places there is amply room to pull over and have a photo op without getting run over.  
   
  Another stop on my agenda today is a run through the South Dakota Badlands. It is another place that I have ridden by many times and just never planned a stop.  
   
  The storm is still pursuing me but it's also still off to my right so I just keep moving.  
   
  The Badlands are just hard to imagine without being there. I don't know how anyone on any type of animal or ground machine could travel through them - except where a road had been built.  
   
  There are deep canyons and then jutting mountains throughout the area as I make my way around.  
   
  I start to see some lightening flashes and figure it about to get really nasty.  
   
  But then the road twists away from the trouble and I think I will be okay.  
   
  But I think wrong and figure I'm about to get a frog drowning.  
   
  But the stark landscape still is impressive to view.  
   
  It just stretches as far as the eye can see - much like one of my favorite places - the North Canyonlands in Utah.  
   
  The rain finally catches up to me but at this point I figure I'll just ride on wet. I'm not that far from the motel and there is no good place to pull of to put on my rain gear anyway.  
   
  Then as quickly as I came into it I am out of it. And I have the pleasure of seeing more of the amazing landscape around me.  
   
  But then the lightening really starts flying as it strikes the ground. I figure I'd better head for shelter since I am one of the 'tallest' things on the road surface.  
   
  Fortunately I make it to my accommodations for the evening without getting fried like a hushpuppy.  
   
  But just as get there and get off BlueBelle the storm hits with a vengeance. There is lightening, hail, severe winds and a torrential downpour. While I am checking in a lady comes in and gives me my helmet. The wind had blown it off BlueBelle and it was making its way to a new home I suppose.  
   
  Instead of parking BlueBelle in the gravel in from of my room, the lady behind counter lets me park her in a sheltered place away from the wind.  
   
 

One of the reasons that I chose this place is that there was a restaurant on the premises. When I ask, the lady tells me -

"Well it's closed because all our cooks quit."

But they have small store there so I'm able to find enough stuff to make some ham sandwiches so I'm good for supper

 
   
  It's been a great day as I have visited two places that I have wanted to see for a while. With the storm still raging outside, I find a quiet place of rest inside where the wind nor the hail will trouble a feller.