Whether it’s Deadwood, South Dakota, middle of nowhere Minnesota, or a gas station on the highway, I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve asked a question and have received the response, “I don’t know, I’m not from here.” Isn’t anyone from where they are anymore?

Our trip west has been great so far, and the weather gods have smiled upon us. We missed a downpour today, while strolling around Mt. Rushmore…even the all mighty didn’t want to mess with the dead Presidents. We were chased by storms on two days, from Milwaukee to Deadwood, one of which set off the tornado sirens throughout the town of Piere, S. Dakota.

We’ve hooked up with our friends Kim and Bob from Saskatchewan, here in Deadwood, and have been touring the area. Deadwood is famous for it’s gold rush and Wild Bill Hickok. We even got to see him get killed in a card game…again.

While Milwaukee has great names like Blatz and Shlitz and a funeral home run by the Slaughter Brothers, Deadwood has idols like Wild Bill, Calamity Jane and Wyatt Earp. The town is full of folklore and history. 

On the way back from Mt. Rushmore today, we stopped in the town of Keystone. It just happens to be the place where I received a parking ticket from the Keystone Cops about nine years ago. Luckily, I wasn’t stopped by them today, since I never did pay that ticket. It is hanging on my garage wall at home.

Even though I’ve seen Mt. Rushmore before, it’s still jaw-dropping. The others weren’t disappointed and Cathryn can now cross it off her bucket list. The winding and curving roads between Rushmore and Deadwood and throughout the Black Hills are a bikers dream. The place is crawling with hawgs of all sizes and colors.

We did a pit stop in Sturgis too, I needed a part for my bike and a couple of us scored some t-shirts. The city, and the whole surrounding area will be invaded by tens of thousands of bikers in a couple weeks, for the Sturgis Rally.