Journal: Custer State Park, Merritt Reservoir, etc.

 

We got home Saturday evening from our trip (notice I did not say ‘vacation’) to the Black Hills.  As you may recall, we left home two weeks ago today, going first to the Nebraska State Fair in Grand Island to pick up my quilts and things.

In fact, we left home twice.

The first time, we only got halfway down the hill from our house before Larry said, “Oh.  I forgot my hearing aids.”

I said, “What?”

He actually started to repeat himself before he remembered to whom he was speaking, and gave me the evil side-eye instead.  ((...giggle, snerk...))

He turned the rig around easily at the bottom of the hill, remarking, “This is why I liked fifth wheels!”

He pulled down the lane, ran into the house and retrieved the hearing aids, then backed the rig down the lane and onto the old highway.

And we were off.  Again.

We barely had time to see the quilts before they closed the big Expo Building in order to take them all down and organize them for returning them to their proper owners.  Here’s one of the pretty quilts we saw.

A couple of items I need to add to my Supplies list are ‘blood pressure monitor’ and ‘Mylanta’.  And to the To-Do List, ‘fill camper water tank’ and ‘fill propane tanks’.  Not that the latter two would’ve helped, since we had enough when we left home.  You’ll see what I mean, ... later.

After leaving the fair, quilts AND RIBBONS! in tow, we stopped at Wal-Mart so Larry could get an air chuck (whatever that is), since his was at home in the garage.  (Yeah, yeah, I know, it has something to do with air.  And woodchucks.)  (No, I do know it’s a thangama-rolph-gidget, aka gizmadoohickeydad, that goes on the end of an air hose.) 

We also got a small folding ironing board.  I don’t mind roughing it on camping trips, but I want clean hair and unwrinkled clothes whilst I’m at it!

If you wonder why I have no pictures of animals at the fair, well, it was because we got there too late to see most of them.  As we were nearing Grand Island, still more than 30 miles to the east, we started seeing pickups and trucks pulling stock trailers large and small, some big and fancy with entire campers at the front.

Larry seemed uninclined to comment on this phenomena, but I eventually stated, “These stock trailers mean we are too late to see a good many of the animals.”

He acted surprised.  He acted.

Rats.  I do like to see the animals.

Ah, well... as it turned out, I was still feeling somewhat ill, and after carrying stuff out to the camper, which entailed ascending and descending various steps and stairs multiple times, a leg and a hip were protesting quite vociferously.  So it was just as well, I guess, that we didn’t do much else than look quickly at the quilts, wander the vendor stalls in the big Expo Building, get ourselves Strawberry and Pineapple Whips, and then pick up my things and go.

At least I got pictures of my favorites of the quilts.  I’ll study them more thoroughly as I edit them.  I get so many good ideas from others’ beautiful quilts.

As we drove through the country toward the northwest, we saw a deer or two, and a raccoon sashaying along as they do, eyes shining in the light of our headlights.

A friend had recently mentioned how her animals’ outdoor water bowls had started looking grubby in the morning, with bits of dirt and jetsam and flotsam in them.  She thought she knew what was causing this, and then she was sure, because she found footprints:  raccoons.

Back when we had a pet door, our cats’ water bowls, positioned right inside the kitchen doorway, started looking like that.  I knew something other than the cats were using that pet door, and I was pretty sure it was a raccoon.  Probably just one, or I would’ve heard them in the night.  Raccoons like to discuss things with each other.  🦝🦝🦝🦝🦝

One day I was upstairs in my little office, scanning photos.  Larry came home from work, walked in the back door, startled the raccoon – and since the ’coon saw that his route to the pet door was blocked, he ran the other way.  Raccoons feel safest when they go UP.  He found the first route UP, and took it:  the stairs.  He came barreling up the steps, rounded the corner...

Meanwhile, I was standing at my rolltop desk in the little room down the landing and around the corner.  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a roly-poly animal come around the banister and hurry toward me, and thought, Here comes Tiger Kitty — NO IT’S NOT!  IT’S A RACCOON!!!

I knew once he got into my little office, there was no way out; he’d have to about-face.  I stood very still.  He tripped and stumbled right over my feet, and his bristly fur and warm body rubbed right against my shins.  He paused, looked at the closed door that opens into the unfinished addition, turned around, stepped back over my feet, and headed for the stairs again, going right past big ol’ Tiger himself, who was lying in the doorway of my quilting studio, calmly watching the show.

The raccoon, after tumbling down a good three-quarters of the steps (they’re acrobats in trees, but clowns with too big of shoes on steps), then ran back towards the back hallway.  Seeing Larry standing in the kitchen, the raccoon kicked in the afterburner, fell over the water bowl, booted the cat’s bowl of dry food and sent it flying into the wall, slipped and skidded around the corner, and flew pell-mell out the pet door.

When I came running down the stairs to survey the scene, I found Larry still standing there looking on in amazement, his eyes nearly as big as the raccoon’s had been.  😅

At one of the truck stops where we got fuel, we saw a lady walking a big, beautiful husky.  I love huskies.  We had a Siberian husky named Aleutia.  We loved that dog.  She’d pull the littles on a sled on a frozen lake near our house in the winter.  It was such fun to watch her leeeean into the harness and trot, big flag of a tail waving happily, happy doggy grin on her face.  Here she is with Teddy, back in the early 90s.

Someone recently complimented me on one of my photos, mentioning the moon in the picture, and thinking I had specifically set up the shot and waited for the moon to get into position.

“Thanks,” I replied, “but that was just serendipity.  I was driving, fired off a shot – and the moon happened to be there.”

When I was little, I thought someone was saying something not so nice about me, when they said that word, ‘serendipity’:  “Sarah Dippity!” – “I’m not Dippity!!!”  😂

Since we decided not to purchase expensive food from the Nebraska State Fair, and we were in a hurry to get to the campground at Calamus Reservoir, we got some food from Freddy’s Frozen Custard & Steakburgers and ate it as we drove.  I got a bacon cheddar hamburger and a vanilla custard milkshake.  

Larry got a jalapeño hamburger and a Butterfinger milkshake.  And a five-gallon bucket of fries.  Or so it seemed.  Instead of just one order of fries, they gave him two, both large, and both heaped and spilled all over the inside of the bag. 

Not one to waste food, Larry ate them all.  He commented on the first couple of fries, “These are pretty good!” and I, against my better judgment, picked one small fry out of the bag and ate it.

Bleah.  It tasted like fries.

Fries are greasy.

I repeat myself, but Bleah.

Why do so few restaurants, especially fast-food restaurants, have nothing but soft, squishy white buns??  We much prefer whole wheat, especially 12-grain wheat.  Even part-rye is better than that white stuff.  The kind with seeds and onion bits on top is good, too.  But nooooo, you have no choice but the buns that are the very worst for your health.

It’s sooo much better to make hamburgers at home, with healthy (or at least healthier) ingredients.  But the burgers weren’t too terrible, and the milkshakes were good.

I determined that we would eat better, the rest of the time we were camping.

Tuesday found us heading north toward the Rosebud Indian Reservation.  There was intermittent phone signal and internet out there in the Sandhills. 

My GPS announced, “Signal lost.” 

Larry immediately wailed, “Oh, no!  I’m lost.”  He blubbered and howled.  “Boohoohoo!”  😆

We approached one of those roadside markers telling about this or that Very Important Occurrence at that location sometime in the past.

“There’s another hysterical marker!” remarked Larry.  🤣

He has said that so often through the years, I have a time trying to say it right!

The next day as we traveled, we were glad to have the rest of the bacon cheddar biscuits I’d made before leaving home.

Wednesday, September 6, Victoria sent pictures of the girls.  Tuesday had been Carolyn’s first day of Kindergarten.

“How cute,” I texted back.  “But that bag is bigger than she is!”

Victoria responded, “😄 We tried a little one, but her stuff didn’t fit!!”

“Mount it on a skateboard,” I suggested.  Then, “Is it chilly there?  Long sleeves... a jacket...”

“It was quite chilly this morning!” she told me.  “76° this afternoon.  Kurt said he was wearing a jacket at work.”

“It’s 72° here at Whispering Pines Campground,” I said.  “Daddy always winds up working through the hottest days at home; then we go on vacation after the cool-down begins.  🙄”

When Joseph was three and Teddy went to Kindergarten, he said to Teddy, “Teddy, toodn’t you zist fwunk a widdo bit, ’til I tood tum wiff you?”  (He didn’t talk like that until after he had so many ear infections, and a broken eardrum, and couldn’t hear well.  His speech [and balance] got better immediately after we had tubes put in his ears.)

Teddy said, “Noooo!!!  ’Cuz I’m too smart to flunk!”

I added, “And humble, too!”

And he said, as all Jackson kids were wont to do, “Huh.”

Victoria asked if it was smoky, as the air quality was bad in Columbus that day.  But the air in South Dakota was fine Wednesday.

Larry was cold one night, as we thought we could get by with the two electric heaters, and forego the camper furnace that runs on propane – and I hadn’t brought his favorite wool/corduroy/velvet quilt.

I said, “We have quilts galore!  There’s even Kurt and Victoria’s king-sized quilt!”

He declined to use it, though.  He was probably remembering a few grease-calamity incidents throughout the years, and he’d been working on his pickup that day.  Shower or no shower, grease happens!

Saturday, Levi sent me this Tea Alignment Chart:

I responded, “Looks like I’ve been having tea all day long!”

“How did you get that Saturn tea?” he asked.

“Oh, I didn’t have the kind shown in the tea table, precisely;” I answered, “but according to the descriptions, everything I’ve eaten or drunk has been tea!”

Before bidding me adieu, Levi advised, “I would do the alpine slide at Keystone if I were you.  However,” he added, “Grandpa’s dentures might fall out on the steep bits.”  😂

“He’s been riding steep bits right along, on his dirt bike!” I informed this funny grandson of ours.  “Still has his dentures, last time I looked.”

“What is he doing with that bike,” asked Levi, “trying to pull the camper?”

“We thought we might have to, if the pickup didn’t get fixed!” said I.

In Deadwood, there’s a little building where someone does chainsaw art that he sells.  One item was a near-full-sized bucking bull with a saddle on it.  Larry and I should’ve purchased those hats in the boutique in Hill City last Sunday, and then each of us should’ve had our pictures taken on that bull!  🤣

At the Barefoot Scenic Overlook near Terry Peak, there’s a big sign that reads as follows:

“As you walk out onto our Scenic Overlook, look out to the Northeast and you will see the magical Bear Butte.  Also known as Mato Paha or Bear Mountain by the Lakota Tribe, Bear Butte is known to be a place of mediation, prayer and peace.  It is sacred to many indigenous people who make pilgrimages to leave prayer cloths and bundles tied to the brances [sic] of the trees along the mountains’ flanks.  Bear Butte State Park is located just outside of Sturgis, South Dakota.”

There are two or three mistakes in this one sign:  ‘Northeast’ should not be capitalized, there should be a comma after the word ‘prayer’, and the Grand Mistake of all is the misspelling of the word ‘branches’ (they left the ‘h’ out).  If people can’t spell or punctuate or understand basic rules of English, they shouldn’t make signs.  Or they should at least hire themselves an editor who does know these things.  In general, north, south, northeast, northern, etc., should be lowercase when they indicate compass direction.  Capitalize these words when they designate formal regions or are part of a proper noun.

But that’s not as bad as the sign on this medical bus!  “DONATE BLOOB.”

Tuesday, a friend was telling about the smoke alarm in her house blaring at 5:00 a.m. that morning.  Not the beep signaling low battery, but the blare signaling smoke.  There was no smoke, though.

It’s, ahem, alarming when that happens.  We once set off all the alarms in a small, old-fashioned motel up in the mountains somewhere by cooking bacon in our room one morning.  The windows and door were even wide open.  The half dozen other guests were all out or around the outside pool.  They paused momentarily and looked our way.  We gave them friendly waves, and they went back to their usual programming.  Larry reached up and disconnected the smoke alarm (there were low ceilings) until we were done cooking.  No manager or desk clerk ever showed up; I guess they peered out their window and decided we had everything under control.

Larry went to Rapid City on his motorcycle again that day to get an input bearing for his pickup.  He’d taken the truck apart the night before in anticipation of the new bearing.  When he got back, he set to work installing it.

Meanwhile, I walked around the campground, camera in hand.  There were mountain bluebirds all over the place.  The first picture (above) is a male.  The next is a juvenile, and the third one is a female.

Just look (below) at the brilliant sky-blue color of the males’ wings when they fly. 

There was a juvenile barn swallow atop the swing set at the campground.  Along came its mother, who proceeded to feed him while on the wing, without ever alighting on the bar.

The Swallow family, some two dozen strong, did not approve of me being so close to that baby.  They dive-bombed me singly, en masse, and in pairs and triples, cheeping furiously.  I took a few shots, then obligingly removed myself to the nearby old-fashioned merry-go-round and sat down.

They did not seem troubled by me any longer, nor did the bluebirds, even when I took the merry-go-round around in a circle in order to be closer to a bird I wished to photograph.  I think they have become accustomed to children playing on that thing, and have come to realize that when they are playing, they take no notice of the birds.  Birds can be smart little birdbrains!

Their nests were the usual mud-and-grass cupped structures, up under the eaves of the large utility building at the campground.

I peeked into the cabins they have for rent.  In each is a big bed, a set of bunkbeds, a microwave, and a refrigerator.  Cute little cabins, really.  They have heavy wooden latches on the inside with pull ropes on the outside, instead of doorknobs.  (There are new-fangled deadbolts to lock them during the off season.)

Below is a juvenile bluebird.  He still had fluffy baby down on his chest, but he was already well able to catch flying insects.  Here he is sitting on a fence pole, looking down at what remains of a tiny insect he is holding under his foot. 

“For this insect we are about to consume, may we be truly thankful...”

They were all out of gallon jugs of water at the General Store.  I wondered how difficult it would be for Larry to haul gallons of water on his motorcycle.

In my wanderings about, I spotted a tomato vine with pretty ripening tomatoes all over it.  I went back inside the store and asked the lady, “Do you ever sell tomatoes from your vine?”

“Nooo,” she said slowly, “but you can just have some!”

“I can’t just take them!” I protested.

“That’s what gardens are for!” she said, smiling, “—to give to others!”

She led me out the back door, past her friendly doggy – a big wire-haired terrier of some sort – to the tomato vine.  I chose two and thanked her, saying, “These will go really well with our smoked turkey sandwiches for supper tonight!”

And they did.  😋

I returned to the camper and edited pictures.  

In trying to label some wildflowers, I typed into Google, ‘mountain wildflowers whose buds look like little yellow buttons’ – and discovered that the flower I was trying to name was called ‘golden buttons’, imagine that.  Other names are Bitter Buttons, Common Tansy, Cow Bitter, and Garden Tansy.  It’s a perennial, and it’s considered invasive, and look where it came from:

The Pilgrims were the first to bring Common Tansy seeds to North America.  The plant was to be used for medicinal purposes such as treating ulcers, constipation, hysteria, intestinal worms (those last two probably went together, whataya bet?), rheumatism, jaundice, and gastrointestinal problems.  From the 17^th to 19^th century, Europeans and Americans wrapped corpses in Common Tansy to prevent rapid decay.  The leaves were used to repel flies, ants, and fleas around meats.  The plant has also been researched as a possible insect repellant or insecticide for mosquitoes.

Finishing the editing of one folder of pictures, I headed outside for another jaunt around the campground.  I looked at the shower rooms and the laundry room over on the far side of the camp.  Just beyond the grounds was the pretty log home where the owners of Whispering Pines live.  And there were eight wild turkeys in their yard! 

Then, out in a pasture, I saw a goat... then another... then one more – and there was the man who owns the campground coming along with them, leading one and herding the other two in front of him.

As the goats came hurrying along through the brush, they scared up a turkey hen with four babies!

At a quarter ’til 5, Larry went off to Rapid City again to get another part he needed.  The one he’d gotten that morning either wasn’t enough, or wasn’t right.  Before leaving, he told me that when he was looking at his GPS, he’d noticed a trail that goes up and over the mountain to Rapid City, and would save him a whole lot of time. 

Yeah, ha.  “Something would go wrong,” I informed him, “and no one would come along that trail for months.”

He asked me to go to the General Store and reserve two more nights at the campground, so after he left, I trotted over there.  The man marked us down in his appointment book, then told me he was shutting the place down for the season the next Monday (that would be today).

I was relieved to find quite a few 24-ounce bottles of spring water in one of their coolers.  We were running low.  I bought four.  They, too, were running out of supplies, and probably wouldn’t be getting much more, if they were shutting down shortly.  The water the camper was connected to was drinkable, but it smelled slightly sulfurish (ought to be a word, and would be a word, had Noah Webster ever smelt that water).  You do know he changed quite a lot of words to suit himself when he published his dictionary back in 1806, don’t you?

He changed the –ce in words like defence, offence, and pretence to –se; abandoned the second, silent “l” in verbs such as travel and cancel when forming the past tense; dropped the “u” from words such as humour and colour; and dropped the “k” from words such as publick and musick.

So, feeling every bit as important as Noah Webster, I, too, change words as I see fit!

I was in the camper again editing pictures, when turkeys by the dozen went running past, heading to the grassy area on the other side of the lane.  They were such fun to watch as they ran to and fro gobbling up bugs.  Some didn’t want any other ol’ bird gettin’ any of his bugs, huh-uh, nosireee, and he was willing to pluck a few tail feathers to prove it!

Before long, they all exited stage left, crossing the road and heading up into the wooded hills.

Larry had bought cheese that morning when he went to Rapid City, so I sliced Colby Jack cheese for our Carving Board turkey sandwiches that evening, adding slices of the tomatoes from the lady’s tomato-vine-in-a-bucket.  The sandwiches were made with 12-grain bread, toasted.  We also had red grapes, banana bread (which Larry also got in Rapid City), and cran-cherry juice.

While in Rapid City, Larry stopped at a trailer sales to get a fan for the one in the camper bathroom that had gotten ruined (maybe more from the Styrofoam he put in there as a temporary fix than from the high wind itself).

He learned something he hadn’t known:  there are two types of camper fans.  One turns clockwise, the other turns counterclockwise.  He looked at them... took a guess.  50-50 chance, right?

He got the wrong one. 

“I thought about getting both, and returning the wrong one,” he said ruefully.

He worked on his pickup until it was so dark out he could no longer see what he was doing.  He came in trying to tell me something.

“Stop!” I said, laughing and putting up a hand.  “Go look in the mirror.  I can’t take anything you say seriously, until you do something about that enormous grease splop all over one side of your chin and face.”

He went off to wash, looked in the mirror – and then he couldn’t quit laughing at himself.  😄

“Hopefully Larry will be able to finish working on that truck and we’ll get to see George Washington before he falls off the mountain,” I wrote to several friends.  “Abraham Lincoln already did.”

I posted this picture to prove it.

I was then quite surprised when a couple of those friends actually thought I meant it, and were downright sad about it, too!

“Sorry, ladies,” I wrote after a bit, “it was just a joke.  I don’t know where that bust of Abraham Lincoln came from, but he didn’t fall off the mountain.  😆”

Here’s a deer we saw peeking around a parked vehicle in Deadwood.

While exploring the stores and boutiques of Hill City the day of the quilt show, we entered one where they sold all sorts of handmade soaps, lotions, and Essential Oils.  On one shelf was a variety of open jars of body butter, and there was a little sign that said, “Try Me.”

I did.

That was the shiniest, greasiest stuff I’ve ever put on!  It multiplied like pabulum after one of the babies sneezed when he had a mouth full of the stuff.

I leaned down and inconspicuously rubbed it on my legs when nobody was looking.  So then not just my hands and arms were greasy, so were my legs!  And no matter how I spread it, it did not diminish from the areas where I had first applied it.

Anyway, after Larry got so greasy while working on his truck, I suggested that we go back to that store in Hill City and buy the body butter.  He could rub it all over himself, and then the pickup grease would not stick to him.  Genius!

“You’d want to be careful while you’re working inside your pickup, though,” I said, “because you could fall out a lot.”

He said this idea wouldn’t work, because I had liked how it smelled so much that I’d be bound to use it, too, and then we’d run out and get in his pickup, slide, and wind up in each other’s seat instead of our own.

“You wouldn’t want to use it when you’re going to ride your motorcycle,” I warned.  “You’d get on the seat, crank up the throttle – and the motorcycle would go zooming off and leave you sitting on the ground after you slid right off the seat!”

Later that night, I tried to do something online and discovered that the Internet was down.  The campground Internet wasn’t working, nor would either of our phones connect, even though our carrier was not the same as the campground’s. 

My phone said only, “Searching for a network.”  Larry’s said, “Emergency use only.”

For a few minutes after I noticed it was down, names of other people’s Wi-Fi were popping up on my Internet connection window, as they apparently went to their own hotspots.  One by one the names disappeared again, as they were evidently unable to connect to their own networks, too.  Eventually there was only one iPhone user left – and only one bar showed on his connection, either because he had poor reception, or because he was some distance away from us.

I needed to write the Winding Thread (a weekly quilting question/discussion) for my MeWe Quilt Talk group, but it would have to wait until the next morning.

I told Larry, “Vladimir Putin has bombed the World Wide Web!”

OH!  Lookie this, lookie this.  I just now right this very minute got a notion to look it up, typed in the date, and ‘Internet down’, and look what I discovered happened at that very time:

“Starlink confirms widespread outage, many users affected worldwide:  ‘We are currently in a network outage and we are actively implementing a solution.  We appreciate your patience (who said I had any patience, I’d like to know?!!!); we’ll share an update once this issue is resolved.’”

Finally, some time later, Starlink wrote, “The network issue has been fully resolved.”

That was all, there was nothing more.

Someone asked, “What happened?” and another person answered, “Someone accidently unplugged all the satellites.”  😂

Another man wrote, “I went offline, looked up from my computer, and discovered that my wife left me last Christmas.” 

“Guess I’ll go make a foil helmet,” announced one person, “to see if I can catch any airwaves.”

“Shiny side out or you’ll just echo the other voices,” advised the next.

Haha  People are funny.

Wednesday, having the bearings in the truck, Larry was in the process of putting the fan wheel back in place.  It weighs about 50 pounds, and he thought he would have to hold it in place with one hand while he threaded a bolt into a small hole with the other, all while lying under it.  He wasn’t looking forward to it.  If Larry thinks something will be difficult, then it will be.  😐😬

But after a bit of thought, he cut a piece of wood exactly the right length to prop and hold up the heavy flywheel.  There are two parts to it, and they have to be perfectly aligned while the bolts go in.  He managed to get the bolts in without too much trouble.

People were so nice to us.  The manager of the campground brought plywood so Larry’s creeper would roll under his pickup – the thin carpet he’d been using atop the rocks on the lane were making his back sore.  A man from one of the campers walked over to offer Larry some help if he needed it.  A couple of days earlier, the man in the camper next to us told Larry that if he needed to go for parts, and they were too big to carry on his motorcycle, or if it was raining or cold, he’d be glad to take Larry in his Jeep Wrangler.

I walked over to the little General Store and bought more water. 

“I’m about to run you out of bottled water!” I said to the man.

“It’s okay,” he assured me, “I think there is another box of it in the storeroom.”

Needing soap, I found one bar of Irish Spring on the shelf – and then I found one bar of Men+Care Dove soap.  Those were the only two bars of soap they had.

Larry was pleased with the Men+Care soap.  He says I mostly buy ‘nothing but flowers’ for him to wash with. 😆

A little before 2:00 p.m., Larry announced that he was on the downhill slope, just screwing everything back together again.

I mixed up a box of Uncle Buck’s Jalapeño Cheddar biscuits, but I couldn’t get the oven started.  When Larry came in, I requested his assistance.

He gave it a try, and requested my assistance. 

So, while I held the oven knob in, he lit the pilot light with the long-handled lighter.

How, I ask you, would this job be accomplished if there was only one person doing it?!

I started to slide the sheet of biscuits into the camper oven – and the cooking sheet wouldn’t fit.  Aarrgghh, I had not considered that possibility when I chose this sheet from the pan cupboard at home, expressly for the purpose of baking these biscuits!

It would not lie on the oven rack, but I discovered that if I tilted it just a wee bit, and then rested it on the sticky-outy-thingies (scientific terminology) inside the oven, it fit, baaaarely.

That was the first time the oven in the camper had ever been used; the people who owned the camper before us never used it. 

I didn’t turn the oven up quite as hot as the recipe called for, in case it got hotter than expected, or in case they baked faster, what with the higher altitude.  But I put in all the rest of the cheddar cheese, which was more than the half cup called for, and then had to add a dollop more milk; so the biscuits took a bit longer than usual.

The timer went off... I added another minute and a half.

It went off again...  Mmmmm... they smelled so good.  I added another minute and a half.

And then they were done.  I ate mine piping hot, slathered with butter.  Yummy.

These biscuits are really hot (as in ‘spicy’), so the added cheddar and milk were good.  Plus, it then made eight big biscuits, rather than just six.

These might not be the prettiest biscuits I’ve ever made, but they sure were good!  Later that evening, we each had another with roast beef and vegetable soup.

Larry took the pickup for a test drive, and returned to say that it was back in working order.  There are a couple of other bearings that will need to be replaced one of these days, but it would likely get us safely back home.  He grabbed a biscuit and a fresh mug of coffee, and headed off to Rapid City again – this time in the pickup – to get some additive for the transfer case.

That evening, I learned that I’ve been mispronouncing the city of Lead all my livelong life, sneering down my nose at people who, I thought, were saying it ‘wrong’.  I thought it was ‘led’.  Nope, it’s ‘leed’. 

Do you think I should apologize to all those personages at whom I sneered, or would it be okay if I just ducked behind that big planter over there (pointing) every time they look my way?

This is ridiculous.  It should be pronounced ‘led’.  Lead, after all, is a metal obtained from the mineral galena.  Other common lead-bearing minerals include anglesite (lead sulfate), boulangerite, cerussite, (lead carbonate), minim and pyromorphite.  It is mined around that area, for pity’s sake, right along with silver and gold and iron ore!

But no, they pronounce the town, ‘leeeeed’.  According to the Advisory Council on Historic Preservation, they took its name from the term for a ledge of ore. 

This is from the Lead Historic Preservation:  Lead (pronounced ‘leed’) was officially founded on July 10, 1876, after the discovery of placer gold in Gold Run Gulch.  The name Lead comes from a mining term:  an outcropping of gold-bearing ore.  As news of the discovery of gold spread, prospectors from the surrounding mining camps rushed to the gulch, their numbers growing daily.  The town was laid out on July 10, 1876, on a site located between the north and south forks of Gold Run Creek.  One of the first enterprises of the 1876 Gold Rush was the Homestake Gold Mine.  Homestake was claimed by brothers Fred and Moses Manuel on April 9, 1876.  In June of 1877 George Hearst purchased the claim from the Manuel brothers.

Now, I ask you, how many people do you think know that ‘lead’, pronounced ‘leed’, is ‘an outcropping of gold-bearing ore’; and how many people do you think know that ‘lead’, pronounced ‘led’, is a metallic element, huh huh huh huh huh??  It has been used since antiquity, that’s a fact!

And now that I’ve ranted and raved about it, perhaps there’s a chance – a slight chance, but a chance, nonetheless – that I will remember how to say it properly.

Uh, oh, the camper just sprung a leak.

It wasn’t even raining hard at all, when I heard drops hitting the windowsill – inside.  I grabbed a towel, wiped up the water, and left the towel there to catch any further leaks.  The rain promptly quit.

Why didn’t it ever leak before, even when it was pouring outside??

Larry is planning to caulk and seal all the joints of the camper before it gets cold out.  He was disheartened to find a spot on the camper at the rear, in the far corner above the kitchen counter, that’s ‘soft’, indicating that there has been a leak there.

Thursday morning after breakfast, I washed the dishes – and the kitchen sink wouldn’t drain.  Huh?  I thought we were connected to the campground’s septic system. 

Larry checked, and learned that there are two gray tanks – one for the bathroom sink and shower, and one for the kitchen.  How ’bout that.

He connected the hose to the kitchen’s tank, and emptied it.

That day, we would go to Custer State Park.  We pulled out of the campground, got to the corner where one either turns north or south on 385, and Larry asked, “Which way shall we go?” whilst preparing to turn north.

!!!

What?!  I thought we were going to Custer State Park! 

I asked, “Where were you planning to go?”

“I thought you wanted to go to Custer,” he said.

“I do.  But Custer State Park is not to the north.”

He turned south, grumbling.  The nerve of them, to put Custer State Park to the south.

We stopped in Hill City so Larry could get a fishing license.  I walked by a news stand, noticed an article about the quilt show, thought it was the newspaper I had earlier bought a copy of – and then came to a screeching halt when I spotted the first row of quilts! 

Yep, the first six quilts are mine.  😁

We walked into a few clothing shops in town, looking for a raincoat for me, as it was rainy and chilly that day.  I found a couple of jackets I liked – soooo soft – but they were either 1) not rainproof, or 2) too expensive. 

So on we went to Custer State Park.

I like watching the little prairie dogs dashing about, squeaking and barking, doing all sorts of prairie dog stuff and things.

I think this one was saying, “Don’t you think I look suave and debonair with this blade of grass between my teeth?”

They eat a lot at this time of the year, and they have a lot to eat in that part of South Dakota.  Prairie dogs do not go into true hibernation, but periods of dormancy or torpor during the coldest periods of the winter, and while their activity and appetite are accordingly decreased, they do need some excess fats to see them through.  They may sleep for many days at a time, but a prairie dog town or colony is usually active during the milder days of winter.

We saw a whole lot of buffalo, but saw the wild mules only from a distance, as we didn’t turn on the road where they were wandering amongst the cars.  Too bad; I really like seeing them up close.  They’re quite tame, and like people.

But the best part of all was watching the Bighorn sheep.  I think quite a few of the youngsters got into the lambnip.  😄

An antelope crossed the road right behind us.  Larry stopped, and I got some good shots of it.  There are a lot of deer, both mule and white-tail.

We saw a caravan of strrrrretched, open Jeeps taking people on tours.

At a quarter after 6 or so, Mountain Daylight Time, somewhere in the middle of the Park, Larry found a place to fish.  In the rain.  Acorns were falling from the oaks, clanging loudly against the pickup, and thumping onto the ground.  I told him he needed his motorcycle helmet on.  😅

He got a lot of nibbles and bites, and caught one ‘pan-sized’ fish.

When it quit raining, I went for a walk on a trail across the road.  I didn’t go too awfully far, as Larry didn’t know where I was (and the bears might).

Leaving the creek and pond, we headed back to the camper.  We went through one smallish tunnel, and then drove a good deal of the way straight into a beautiful sunset.

At Pactola Reservoir, we stopped to get pictures of the darkening sky over the lake, and of flowers near the Visitor’s Center.

There are about 200 mountain goats in the park, but we didn’t see any.  They are not native to the area; they were given as a gift from Canada.  Here’s a photo from Custer State Park’s website.

Larry went trail riding one more time Friday morning, and then we hitched up, moved out of the campground, and headed toward home.  Wouldn’t you know, it was bright and sunny, while the previous day, the only day we had for exploring a small part of Custer State Park, it was chilly and rainy all day.  😏 

We couldn’t take the camper through some of the roads down through the center of the park on our way home, as the corners are too tight and the tunnels too small; but we could at least travel along the western side of the park, where we would see many buffalo, even more prairie dogs, a large number of deer, and one coyote.

These are Alpine asters, also known as Blue Alpine daisy, a species of flowering plant in the family Asteraceae.  They are native perennial wildflowers there.

At a convenience store somewhere, we got some chicken ranch wraps and strawberry-pineapple and berry smoothies for lunch, and for supper, chef salads.

By 5:30 p.m., we’d made it to Chadron, Nebraska, and were heading for the campground at Merritt Reservoir.

Hannah texted to say that Aaron had fallen while at work and broken his ankle quite badly.  He was walking on a filler (wall form) from bank to wall when the bank crumbled and the filler slipped.  He fell about six feet.

They will see an Orthopedic doctor specializing in ankle and foot issues, as he will most likely need surgery on the ankle. 

We got to the campground at Merritt Reservoir a little after 10:00 p.m.  It was pitch black out, and there’s no lighting at that campground.  It’s hard to find an appropriate place to park and back in properly, when it’s so dark.  The only sites we could find say ‘parking by reservation only’.  We had no reservations.  But we parked.

I then attempted to check in and pay for our spot online.  As soon as I filled in the data and clicked ‘Reserve’, a little box popped up and informed me in red letters, “The earliest date for which you can make a reservation is Monday night.” 

So Larry went looking for the ‘self-pay’ box that we remembered they had, somewhere.  He finally found it by the shower house, paid the fee, brought back a ticket, and put it in place over the ‘only by reservation’ sign.

We didn’t get booted out or even bawled out, how ’bout that.

Furthermore, we had phone signals and Internet!  That’s an improvement since the last time we were there.  However, we had electrical hookups only.  No water, and no sewer hookups.

Meanwhile, somewhere out on the prairie, foxes were setting up quite a chorus.

Larry took a shower – and finished just before the tank ran out of water.  If either of us needed to flush the toilet during the night, we would have to do it with our distilled water.  And what about my shower, in the morning??

Early Saturday morning found Larry traipsing back and forth between camper and shower house, filling the two jugs that had distilled water in them and pouring them into the water tank.  He first filled the coffee maker, thankfully.  And we did have those four small bottles of drinking water still in the refrigerator.

Trouble was, the shower house at that campground cost a dollar for a few short minutes of water, and the sinks were too small to get the jugs under the faucets.  Larry solved the problem:  he disconnected the hose to the toilet and used that.  (Yes, it was clean water.)  🙄

As soon as there was enough water in the tank, I took a shower and washed my hair, carefully conserving water.  There’s nothing worse than running out of water when there’s still shampoo in your hair.  😕  But I managed to finish, and even used conditioner and got that rinsed out.

Larry went fishing at the lake before we left.  I hiked around taking pictures – and remembered another reason I don’t care much for this campground:  there are Buffalobur nightshade thistles all over the place.  A person can’t walk five feet without his shoes, socks, pants, or skirt hem getting totally covered with the awful things!  And while you’re trying to gingerly step through the stickers, you’re also swatting at yellow jackets and mud daubers and paper wasps and some type of furrow bee.  As if that’s not bad enough, the flies there bite viciously!  Aaaarrrrgggghhhh.

As we pulled out, we spotted the pump for filling camper water tanks, and stopped to fill ours.  I don’t like running out of stuff!  Not fuel, not water, not milk, not coffee.

We drove steadily toward home, and then stopped at the Gil Pose Recreation Area south of O’Neill to stretch our legs, and for Larry to do a bit more fishing.

I walked around the lake, taking pictures of damselflies, turtles, and flowers. 

This is a male common blue damselfly, common bluet, or northern bluet (Enallagma cyathigerum).

Below is a male American Rubyspot damselfly (Hetaerina americana).

There must’ve been half a dozen different varieties of dragonflies, damselflies, and darners around that one smallish lake.  There were bullfrogs, too, but I never got a good look at them, as they blended in with the snake grass and wildflowers and prairie grasses.  As I walked along the bank, they would suddenly make a high-pitched squeak-yelp! and take a flying leap into the water, making a big enough splash that I knew they were big ones.

These are Northern Painted Turtles (Chrysemys picta).  It’s all fun and games until too many try to get on your stick, and then it all starts to sink.  Literally.

We got home at about 7:30 p.m., backed the camper into its place, brought all our paraphernalia in from the camper, and put it away. 

I carry my briefcase with the embroidered butterfly quilt with me everywhere I go.  That thing’s been to “Above the Rest” cabin in Montana in 2012... to Paducah... to Daytona Beach, Florida... Why, several times, I even put some stitches in it!  😂

I put a load of clothes in the washing machine, and Larry warmed some Campbell’s soup in the microwave.

We were glad to hit the hay that night.

Yesterday after the morning church service, we gave Eva her birthday present – the little pink purse, into which I put a couple of glow-in-the-dark stars and a smashed penny souvenir from Michigan that had been Caleb’s, and the little wooden and magnetic train that we got at the Railroad Museum in Hill City.  In her card, I taped three quarters – because she is 3 years old.

“Thanks for all the good stuff!” she told us in her exuberant way.

For the evening church service, I wore a suit Hester gave me:  navy jacket with yellow piping on the curved lapels, navy skirt with yellow polka dots, and yellow blouse with scalloped collar and beads and cutouts.  I like to wear the blouse collar on the outside of the suit collar.

One time I wore it to church on a cold day, and had a coat on over it.  The coat got the collar slightly whoppyjaw. 

In the coatroom at church, I hung up my coat, and spotted an older friend hanging up hers.  Now, I supposed that this lady, who always wears dressy suits with pretty blouses to church, would be perfectly capable of fixing my collar.  I asked her assistance.

And learned I supposed wrongly.

For the rest of the service, I was a PMUC (Person with a Messed-Up Collar).  😂

Heard on the rural radio this morning:  the announcer is telling about a promising football player for the Nebraska Cornhuskers who has demolished his career by committing several area robberies. 

And the announcer said, said he, “He was arrested, and bounded out.”

Hee hee

I started doing laundry on Saturday evening when we got home, and have kept the washer and dryer going fairly steadily ever since.  I should’ve kept track of how many loads that was, just for the fun of it.  I finished some time after midnight tonight.

I not only washed all the clothes, towels, etc., that we used during the last two weeks, I also washed all the towels and dishcloths and suchlike that I generally keep in the camper.  I like to keep it mostly stocked with supplies and ready, other than our clothes and a few odds and ends, so I don’t have so much to load, and in case we ever want to go somewhere in a hurry.

I watered the geraniums Caleb, Maria, and Eva gave me well (i.e., ‘flooded’ them, heh) before we left – and look what I was greeted with upon arriving home:

This is a Common Checkered-Skipper (Burnsius communis) on clover.

I’ve always enjoyed reading about flowers, birds, butterflies, and other insects, photographing them, and researching to find out exactly what they are, where their ranges are, what they like to eat, and so forth.  I believe God certainly enjoyed Himself, creating all the animals and insect life!  Just think, none of them were ‘bad bugs’, when He made them.  And one of these days, they’ll all be ‘good bugs’ again, during the 1,000 years of peace.

Bedtime!  I plan to visit Loren tomorrow.

,,,>^..^<,,,          Sarah Lynn           ,,,>^..^<,,,