Day 76 (July 29). TBNG, BHIM, and Hill City

From: Bill, WY

To: Hill City, SD

Miles today: 160

Total miles: 15462

What a weird, strange day. 

Things started out normally.  As I had hoped, the wind had died down to almost nothing in the morning.  I rode the 100 plus miles north on WY 59 and then east on WY 450 to Newcastle, Wyoming, through Thunder Basin National Grassland.  I’m not sure what is “national” about it, since there were fences, cows, trains, and even a large open-pit coal mine along the way, but the scenery was great.  As was the calm air. 

Thunder Basin National Grassland, in the high plains of Wyoming.

Newcastle is at the edge of the Black Hills, so after getting on US 16 I quickly left the grasslands behind.  The Black Hills are a geologist’s dream; there was an upwelling in the center, followed by erosion, so the rocks toward the middle are very old while the ones on the edges are younger, in actual concentric “rings.”  The rocks in the middle, which are what Mount Rushmore is carved out of, are Precambrian, and in fact some of the oldest exposed rocks in North America. 

Precambrian rocks in the center of the Black Hills.  Mount Rushmore is carved out of this stuff.

My goal was to reach Hill City, across the border in South Dakota.  That is where the famous (to us dinosaur fans, anyway) Black Hills Institute is located.  Many famous scientists have worked here, and this is sort of “ground zero” for expertise in the Hell’s Creek Formation, where many of the world’s most impressive dinosaur fossils have been unearthed.  They have a museum that is open to the public, so I figured I had to go; in fact it was my justification to myself for turning north again, after I was in Colorado. 

Well, let me tell you, the place was not what I expected.  I think I was looking for a shrine of sorts, a quietly reverent presentation of the efforts of great men uncovering deep and amazing truths about Earth’s past, and the nature of life itself.  What I found was a three-ring circus.  The building is divided into large two rooms of roughly equal size.  One is the gift shop, about which I’ll say more in a minute.  The other is the museum itself, which is so crammed full of fossils that it is actually difficult to walk through.  In the center are the dinosaur skeletons, most of which are real and unearthed in the western US by people who work at the institute.  (There are signs that say “Please don’t touch the bones,” but it is almost impossible not to because they are everywhere!)  It looks like every time they finished reassembling another dinosaur skeleton, they would just find some place in between the others to wedge it. 

Along the walls are cabinet after cabinet of absolutely amazing invertebrate fossils.  Most of these fossils were not from the area or the Hell’s Creek Formation, but from all over the world, much as my own small collection is.  That is what this is: it is the personal collection of the guys who are operating the museum!  They have a ton of stuff and they are going to display every last bit of it.  They don’t mind using pegboard to hold the stuff. They don’t mind that it makes them seem like they ought to be on an episode of the TV show “hoarders.”  Did I mention that the fossils themselves were amazing? 

The Black Hills Institute Museum.  Left: the center of the room. Right: cabinets like this all the way around.

World class fossils -- displayed on pegboard!  On the right is a feathered dinosaur from China, truly priceless. Except that the guys that run the museum apparently bought it, or traded dinosaur fossils for it.

Honestly, how many T. Rex skulls does one actually need? These are placed on top of the cabinets seen above, near the ceiling, because there is no room for them anywhere else. 

Then there is the gift shop.  Here you could buy anything from a T-shirt or a fake road sign that reads “Cretaceous Place” to nearly complete fossil vertebrates (mostly mammals, not dinosaurs).  They were selling not only their own fossils but anyone and everyone else’s; trilobites from Morocco, ammonites from Madagascar, and rock and mineral samples from all over the world.  I asked the woman working there if there was a book of pictures of the exhibits; she said no, but it was on the to-do list.  Somehow that fit perfectly.

BHI Museum gift shop.  Left: We got your T-shirts and jewelry.
Right: Want a real fossil mammal skeleton?  $7500 and it's yours.  We ship!  

Oh, one more thing about my day. I had actually restructured my trip a bit so that I would not be in South Dakota during the week that is “Sturgis.”  For those who don’t know, this is the biggest motorcycle rally in the country, lasting seven days and starting next week (Monday, August 3).  It takes place in the town of Sturgis, near Rapid City, SD, about 60 miles away from Hill City.  It is mostly a celebration of the Harley-Davidson Lifestyle, and since I am not a Harley rider, I had no desire to go.  But this is the 75^th such rally, and apparently it is a really big deal.  I heard a couple of different people say they expect over a million people this year.  (A smart guy in Sturgis bought a huge area of land several years ago that he has turned into a campground, and this is apparently where most people stay, since there is no way the hotel infrastructure can support it.)  It has gotten so big that it has taken over the entire Black Hills region, including Hill City, and apparently people arrive early (in order to get a good tent spot?).  So: Hill City is jam packed with motorcycles, mostly Harleys.  When one finds oneself in Rome, despite having tried to avoid Rome, all one can really do is hang out with the bikers.  I had a great time admiring their bikes and drinking beer in their bars, but I didn’t get a chance to talk to them at length since they all tended to be in groups.  I had formulated a question, something like this:  “I get that owning and riding a Harley is making a statement.  What I don’t understand is what that statement is.  Could you explain it to me?”  Alas, I did not get the chance. But everyone was very nice.  Most of these bikers are now a bit long in the tooth.  Anyway, when people ask me now if I have ever been “to Sturgis,” I can truthfully reply, “sort of.”  I think that’s enough.

Pre-Sturgis festivities in Hill City, South Dakota.  On the right is the "Mangy Moose," where I had a couple of beers amongst the Harley-ites.

Honda among the Harleys.  I have no chrome.