After leaving the Yankton Visitor's Center I drove west to the Lewis and Clark State Park six miles from the town center. I wanted to walk near the banks of the river. What I got instead was a paved bike trail that was mostly exposed, walking past camp sites and reinforced banks. There was nothing natural about the river here. Sadie was hot and we only walked for 50 minutes. Afterwards she drank quite a bit of water from a small bucket I got for her.
The $4 park admittance afforded me a hot and quick shower, which was well-appreciated after the muggy walk around the campsites. This park is ideal for families with small kids who like to swim in patrolled beaches or ride short bike rides on short, paved trails, but for someone who prefers more rugged naturalness this park was a bit of a disappointment. At least it was clean and had a nice cross-display of trees and grasses along the bike trail.
I kept Sadie inside the van after the walk, leaving the windows open while parked in the shade once back in Yankton. A city worker who was riding an ATV and watering plants along the streets briefly stopped to chat with me; his beloved German Shepherd Dog lived 15 years before he had to put her down last summer.
"Doing that really bothered me," he said rather softly, "but we now have one of her daughters."
I visited the Ben Brewing Company, a small beer bar and macro-brewery in the historical part of town. Business hours are from 2p,-2:30am and I can see this place hopping at night with drunken tourists. The friendly bartender, a native South Dakotan from the northeastern part of the state, told me they won't brew any new batches until 1 July. I stayed long enough to drink one pint of Leinenkugel's Summer Shandy (very good!) and nibbled on some fresh popcorn while going over the rest of the route. I wanted to make it to Pittstown, SD, where the Missouri River leaves Nebraska and starts its northern (re: southern!) flow into the center of the state.
"Pittstown's only about 30 miles from here!" said the bartender. He was grossly wrong. It was more like 250 miles when I add in all the around-town mileage and wrong turns and turn-arounds down dead-end streets.
It was 2:30pm when I took off, and 84F outside. I had the A/C on high for Sadie. These hot days are not good for her and even in the cooler nights she seems tired, fatigued. Her safety is always on my mind and so far I don't think she's truly enjoyed this westward ride. Hopefully the higher hills of eastern Wyoming and western Montana will be more to her liking.
After driving 30 miles back and forth on a stretch of road that was closed for construction (the NDOT should have posted this off the main highway) I finally managed to get from NE121 to NE12, the Nebraska Outlaw Trail and designated Scenic Byway that rolls along the hills of the Missouri River banks. It lived up to its name, with tight rolling hills of black soil, black cows, thick strands of goldenrods, ash trees and prairie grass that was either tall or medium in length. The green grasses and blue sky made for some dramatic photographs. MacMansions dotted the ridges on either side of the river. This place must be something during a blizzard, though.
I stopped at every Lewis and Clark historical site along the way. The crew had camped along the southern banks (now Nebraska) from Crofton to Niobara between 4-7 September 1804. That is barely 30 miles in three days. Here the river is mostly in its natural state, with tall reeds on the banks and many smaller, swift-running tributaries. This is ideal bird habitat. I saw all kinds of warblers of yellow and orange chests.
And then my cell phone started to spit, crackle and vibrate. Oh no! It was in a small pool of water thanks to Sadie who spilled her water partially over the phone and a few other electronics. I need that phone to stay in contact with the outside world! I quickly removed the battery and laid the phone out to dry, but I don't know if this will be enough to save my phone. I'm just not that safe around cell phones and water, it appears. My last cell phone got destroyed in a wash cycle last summer.
But the more west and northwest along the Byway I got, the darker the clouds from western Nebraska became. I could see the front come in as the sky became a dramatic display of greys, dark blues. I turned on to a local Nebraska Public radio station out of Lincoln that kept broadcasting severe storms with possible tornadoes for west-central NE. I kept myself on alert--afterall I was heading soon north and away from Nebraska-- but when I made it to the Fort Randall overlook I knew that the storm was moving in a northeasterly direction and I was in its path.
What a shame as I wanted to relax here and spot birds. Golden eagles are known to roost here, along with other great water fowl. Instead, I drove out of the river area and crossed the Lake Randall Dam, stopping at a motel-restaurant on the south side of the 108-populated town. It began to storm overhead at 7pm, with lightning breaking out all across the northern sky. It was a beautifully dangerous sight. So far the forecaster from yesterday was right: severe storms are expected all across the Missouri River Valley all this week.
When the storm subsided at 8pm I opted to drive on along the L&C trail, driving over slightly gentler green hills. The sky was all grey now, casting an eerie hue over the dark green prairie. Chinese ringneck pheasants made their appearances from the grasses, evading all my attempts to photograph them. Deer grazed in young corn fields, chipmunks continued to dart across the road. Villages were fewer and farther apart.
SD50 followed the L&C trail as the river made itself known from above hilltops, but my goal was to stop at the next decent town. I passed through Geddes and made it to Platte, a small farming town with a rusty tall blue water tower. "From Prairie to Progress", the town's motto, was all over town. Several locals waved at us, including one boy who looked no older than ten who must have been driving his grandpa's giant Buick.
The houses were weather-worn but tidy. Even at dusk people were outside tending to their small lot gardens. One elderly couple rode laps around the neighborhood on their recumbent bikes.
The big businesses in town were farm related: tractor repair, feed store, three Bud bars (no microbrews in this town!) and insurance selling rain and hail as well as crop insurance. On the far west side of town a lone Ford dealership sold full-sized pick-ups. A Sinclair gasoline station sold super unleaded for $2.54 and the Mobil station a block further east sold it for $2.75. And the small town newspaper, the Platte Enterprise, displayed a faded Chicago Cubs banner in its front window. All the major building in the town center were dark-to-medium brick buildings. The tow theatre is showing "Night at the Museum" four nights a week.
Platte doesn't fill much in tourist brochures and there wasn't much there. But it was a friendly town. I walked Sadie around town for 20 minutes to get our one-hour in before eating a small pizza at the Pizza Ranch restaurant, a chain I had never heard of before, much to the surprise of all the teen employees in the place. The young blonde server kept repeating "I can't believe you have never heard of this place before!" When I looked at the menu it only listed locations for the Upper Plains and Northern Great Lakes States: Indiana was not one of those states.
The mushroom and green pepper pizza wasn't bad. It was only $5 and I saved half of it for breakfast tomorrow. The server described the dough as "skillet-style." I called it thick (but not Chicago-style).
I pulled over at the King's Inn Motel for the night, a small motel busy with boaters seeking refuge from the storm. It rained again after 10pm and lightning was far to the north.
I have two more days of this valley before I hit the Black Hills. Everyone that I have spoken to said the Black Hills are fun, better than the central Missouri River Valley. So, when I get just south of "Pier" (known as Pierre, and I better learn to say that town's name correctly lest I be named a damn tourist) I will begin driving straight west into the Black Hills. My first destination will be a quick visit to see what's been completed so far of the Crazy Horse statue.
Storms and tornado watches are in effect until 2am. It's going to be hard to spot a tornado after dark. This is going to be fun!
http://www.yankton.net/articles/2009/06/17/community/doc4a3881a7d8eac534039632.txt
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