Day 55 Spearfish to Hill City 109km

We left Spearfish at 0730 and arrived in Hill City exhausted, dirty, sweaty, blood stained and proud of ourselves at 1830. A massive day, a day to remember and to repeat only in portions. Some overnight rain meant a lovely cool and damp start as we climbed some 19 miles through the beginnings of the Black Hills. It was the kind of riding you imagine before starting a trip like this, some degree of difficulty but nothing extreme, small uphill gradient, comfortable weather and scenery so beautiful as to be reminded of the Schwarzwald. OK, so the increasing numbers of Harley riders on the roads in the lead up to the Sturgis wasn't ever part of my imaginings but otherwise... The turning point came with the disappointment of missing a 'second breakfast' due to the chef disappearing and having to make do with a snickers instead, this coupled with the increasing heat, a steep climb and some troubles finding our way was a recipe for frustration. The Mickelson trail was eventually located, and proved to be, despite Kerstin's fears of unrideable gravel, an excellent trail. (Many thanks to Tom for telling us about it and donating his map). And once the hilltop was reached 18 miles of glorious downhill on this rail trail was well appreciated, as was the bike only environment, the squirrels and the old rail bridges and tunnels. A late lunch was also well appreciated, along with Kerstin's ability to make the mundane gourmet! The trail again headed for the sky post lunch but it was not the hills that stopped us but Kerstin's nose! A spontaneous and heavy nose bleed which took all my ingenuity to plug, tampons were funny but only partially effective! With Kerstin feeling lightheaded we plodded along those last uphill miles (her slow speed was my top speed by this stage). The combination of low speed, sweat and blood proved to be just delicious to the enormous local mosquito population, so I am now on the watch for symptoms of West Nile Virus ;). We gave in to temptation and sped down through the gravel of the last remaining miles to Hill City like we were riding gravel eating mountain bikes rather than fully loaded touring bikes. After the peaceful hours on the trail it was a culture shock to arrive in a town completely taken over by bikers, the roar of the Harley engines made conversation almost impossible and a steak dinner for Kerstin was also off the cards as every place in town was packed with leather and tattoo clad riders. But a green campsite by a creek and a homemade dinner supplemented with beer and chips was beaten only by crawling into a sleeping bag for some deep, deep sleep. - Posted using BlogPress from my iPad