Halfway into the 16-km climb on that second day of cycling, I wasn’t sure I’d made the right move signing up for this trip. I may have bitten off more than I could chew.
The cycling trip through the Black Hills of South Dakota on the 109-mile [175km] Mickelson Trail, advertised by Road Scholar, a not-for-profit organization providing educational travel programs geared to adults over 50, had intrigued me.
“Cycle abandoned railroad lines while learning about geology and human history along the way…. Designed for intermediate to experienced cyclists, we cover 16-35 miles daily on trails of crushed limestone, with grades up to four per cent and trail elevation gains/losses up to 1,000 feet. Elevation ranges 2,850 to 6,300 feet.”
This sounded doable. Sign me up.
Participants were urged to seriously cycle the month before the trip, including 77+km segments every week. Pfft. Big deal. I’d done this regularly all summer. I scoffed as I looked at the daily mileages of 26- 56 kms. As a veteran cyclist, I wasn’t impressed with these distances. Shouldn’t be hard at all. Welcome to Fool’s Paradise.
At our orientation dinner, I met the other participants in the program and Janet, a local historian, a naturalist and our trip leader. On our tour, she would share stories of the Black Hills Gold Rush and the ghost towns lining the trail. She would point out geologic structures, flora and fauna. She mentioned a few other things.
- Don’t pet furry cows. Bison are dangerous when males rut, when females have young, and on days that end in “y.”
- Watch out for rattlesnakes that sun themselves on the crushed limestone trail.
I didn’t remember surly bison and rattlesnakes being listed in the brochure.
Road Scholar provided accommodations, meals, bicycles, helmets and snacks along the route. Janet cycled with us, making sure everyone was okay. Every morning, our bikes were prepped and waiting at the beginning of every trail segment. Sag support was offered if you tuckered out and needed to take the support vehicle to the next trailhead.
The Scholar part of Road Scholar made our trip more than a bicycle trek. The Mammoth excavation site, an active paleontological dig, provided a guided tour to view Ice Age fossils “in situ.” Evenings included lectures describing the history of the region and the Mickelson Rails to Trails program. Stephen Yellowhawk, a chief of the Sioux Nation, related historic accounts of the local culture, peoples and traditions along with a fully costumed Willow and Warrior dance.
The guided tours at the Crazy Horse Monument and Mount Rushmore were two of the reasons I went on this tour. The Crazy Horse monument, still being built after 75 years with no state or federal funding, is stupendous. The entire head of George Washington from Mount Rushmore would only come to the nose of the Crazy Horse sculpture. Seen in pictures and documentaries, the real thing was inspiring and impressive.
Mount Rushmore was a delight. A walking tour revealed the monument from many different angles and more closely than I’d imagined. The evening ceremony that illuminates the sculptured faces of the presidents and the flag folding ceremony by the veterans called up from the audience was moving. A storm with thunder and lightning brewing behind the monument added to the experience.
The Road part of Road Scholar got my attention. Besides a total elevation change from 868 to 1920 metres, we would climb and descend 305-610 metres daily on 24–32-kilometre grades. Even with mild grades of 3-4 per cent, the steady climbs were taxing. Cycling at higher elevations was a burden to a flatlander like me until I acclimatized by the end of the trip. The loose limestone chippings of the trail surface were a challenge, especially when riding too near the edge, where often steep drop offs induced that frightening “here we go” feeling. The heavier mountain bikes with 5cm knobby tires had more rolling resistance than my road bike.
Nothing I had done to prepare for this trip had really prepared me.
The first day of our trip was an eye opener with a 14-km grade to the 60-metre-tall earth bridge at Sheep Canyon, once one of the taller railroad trestles in North America, now filled in with earth and stone with gorgeous views of the steep canyons on either side. The 26-km long ride that I thought would be a breezy jaunt was a lot tougher than I thought. So, halfway through the 45-km ride on that second day, I was having my doubts. That’s when Sue came to my rescue.
An experienced mountain biker, Sue had a lot of leg and lung that made the trail an easier ride. She also had a lot of heart. She’d noticed me lagging with my spirits flagging. She dropped back, reduced her pace, and rode with me for a while, encouraging me to drop down a gear and ride at a reduced speed. She chatted me up, telling me about mountain biking in Montana, taking my mind off the long climb, and generally uplifting me.
At the top of the grade, I’d gotten my gumption back and thanked her for her help. I said my Jewish friends would consider her help a mitzvah. She chuckled, rode off, and shouted Mazel Tov over her shoulder. I passed on this friendly encouragement to others having a tougher time on the trail. We all helped each other. The next two days were easier, even though climbs were longer and altitudes higher.
The 32-km climb on the last day was tough but manageable. To motivate us, Janet said the last 14 kms were all downhill. Were they ever! The disc brakes on the bikes were a godsend on the fast and steep descents. We tore into Deadwood with smiles on our faces. As we posed for a picture at trails end, I passed around a flask of Irish whiskey that I’d saved for a celebratory reward. That might be why everyone is smiling in the photo.
At our farewell dinner, we talked about what meant the most to us on our trip: the beauty of the Black Hills, the wildlife, the national monuments, the camaraderie and the sense of accomplishment. Janet told us that of the five groups that had toured the trail that year, we were the only group where everyone rode every mile. After that, we all had one injury in common. Our shoulders hurt from patting ourselves on the back. We were all proud of our accomplishment.
I’ve been asked if I would do this again. Sure, it was a much tougher ride with longer climbs than I anticipated, but the people were great, the historical sites were inspiring and the vistas were grand.
You didn’t have to nerd out to enjoy the informative portion of the trip, which made every mile new and unexpected. Our docent, Janet, and Matt, who supplied and maintained our bicycles, made our ride safe, manageable and fun.
So yeah, sign me up. Let’s do it again!
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