Saturday - July
16, 2016. The goal is to
ride from Pierce, Nebraska to somewhere around Crawford, Nebraska after
visiting the Hudson Meng bison site, which equates to about 425 miles of
riding.
I then get up
after 6:00 am, brake camp and head north on I-20. As I ride away I see a
rainbow over the prairie and two young bulls butting heads over a pond of
water.
The air is still
and easy to ride in, but after 10:00 am the wind starts in again from the
South. The wind continues for hours and then shifted from the North. I-20 is
an easy ride and well paved.
Nebraska was the
first love of my Western life. When I was 18, I went to work on the Hudson Meng
Bison kill dig and quickly fell in love with the West, he clouds and their
amazing size as they crossed the endless landscape for miles. I just loved the
hugeness of the sky. I used to sit on a hilltop and see a train miles away
cross the plains. If it was not for my love of Nebraska, then I never would
have went to the University of Arizona where I continued and enhanced my
appreciation for the Western landscape.
I continue on
past Chadron, Nebraska and on to Crawford and head North on 15 miles of gravel
roads. I am a bit reluctant to go gravel, especially gravel road in ranch lands
of the badlands, but I badly wanted to see the Hudson Meng site once again.
After about 10 miles of riding I get my gravel legs, and the road becomes
easy. The road snakes across train tracks, buttes and ravines in the
badlands.
I arrive at the
Hudson Meng site and find a full rest room along with the new forest service
center that houses the dig. I find 4 employees working at the site, and I was
immediately taken on a tour of the facilities. Of course I had to tell them
that I was there on the dig in 1974, which they love. The site was interesting
and full of artifacts and information. I unearthed the largest Alberta Point to
date at the site. I leave the building and I can see the trees where we used
to camp in 1974. The ranger told me that a fire in 2012 had killed the trees
and all the other trees in the surrounding area. The hill where I used to sit
looking out over world was now covered in black dead trees. The pond where we
used to swim was still there. I told the ranger what we did and she was
horrified, but when you sleep in a tent, it is 100 degrees in the day and you
only get a shower twice a week, then jumping in a ranch pond is no big deal. 
The rangers
suggest that I camp at Fort Robinson, which is just down the road from
Crawford. I ride to Fort Robinson and immediately remember being there before.
This is where we used to use to get our twice a week showers. Coming out of the
office at the fort, there is a guy ogling my bike. Tom tells me that he also
had a vstrom and he wants to know about a number of the farkles I have on the
bike. I spend the next 20 minutes telling Tom about some of the more visible
farkles. I think that I need to create a document with all the farkles I have
and their advantages. Then, when I run into someone that is interested then I
can hand them the document.
Fort Robinson was
started back in about 1874 to deal with the Indians. I setup my campsite and
then head back to Crawford for a dinner and beer. Yet another good meal at the
bar talking to the locals. That night my campground neighbors leave out food,
so they are savagely attacked by raccoons at 4:00 AM. The screens are heard,
the accusations fly when they figured out what happened. for the next 2 hours
their flashlights come out whenever i move in my tent.
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