Last Look Back, First Gear Forward
Route: Buffalo Chip Campground → Chadron, NE
Two Routes in Mind:
- Long Way: Through Deadwood, Custer, and Hot Springs (~6 hours)
- Short Way: Direct via SD-79 South (~2 hours)
Destination: Chadron, Nebraska – to visit family
Route A: The Long Way Round, Through Deadwood and Hot Springs
If the sun’s high and the day stretches ahead with mercy, I’ll loop back into the myth.
Deadwood rolls up like a film set that never wrapped. The air smells of whiskey and worn leather, history stacked in planks and poker chips. Not much changes here, and suppose that’s the point.
From there, the ride to Hot Springs gives a last look at the Black Hills. Pines folding into the dry open, winding roads unwinding into the prairie. A good road for clearing the head before Nebraska flattens the pulse.
Route B: The Straight Shot, South on SD-79
If the clock’s already leaning on me, I’ll keep it simple. Southbound and focused. The land turns to patchwork; ranches, silos, highway rattles. The wind hits harder out here. No distractions, no promises. Just pavement and purpose. Good road to shave time on but not much else. Riding transforms into just another form of travel, rather than adventure. But life’s still better on two wheels rather than four.
Evening Goal: Chadron, NE
The road ends a little softer today. Not with a grand overlook or a triumph at the top of a mountain, but in a quiet Nebraska town where the porch light still comes on whether you’re expected or not.
It’s been longer than I care to admit since I’ve seen my family, longer still since I let the ride bring me back to them instead of farther away. I won’t be the same man they remember, and maybe they won’t seem the same to me, either. That’s alright. That’s life stretching. It’s still a strange concept to keep in your mind, though, and I still don’t know how to feel about it. The ceaseless march of time erodes the fallible sense of stability that everything will be just how you remember it. But is it that fear of change what prevents us from confronting life head-on?
I have no idea, furthermore I don’t know why I just got so philosophical in the middle of a vroom vroom motor-bikey blog. Anyway.
There’s no fanfare here. Just a familiar driveway, maybe a cracked screen door, and voices I know better than I remember. I’ll set the bike down gently. The dust of the Black Hills still on my boots.
And for now, the adventure pauses.