There’s Gold in Them Thar Hills!
Ruthie
and I pulled onto the loop road running through South Dakota’s Custer State
Park. Soon as we entered the 71,000 acres of rolling grassland, piney woods,
and pine-covered ridges our “Wow’s” began. Caught by the morning sun the
granite peaks of the neighboring Black Hills just to our west glowed fiery red.
Directly around us the prairie was covered with bunches of blue bells and
orange Indian paint brush, and foraging among them were hundreds of buffalo.
I burst
out, “Look at them all! I've never seen so many!”
Ruthie
exclaimed, “Grazing with them, are those pronghorn antelope!?”
They
were and in every direction were prairie dog mounds. Popped up from the nearest
ones, dozens of the little critters were hoping we’d toss them snacks in
passing.
It was
Labor Day weekend and farther on all traffic had stopped for
wild donkeys badgering motorists for handouts. Nicknamed Begging
Burro’s they weren’t a bit bashful about thrusting their big toothy faces
through open windows.
Holding
up an apple chunk for her beggar to chomp on, Ruthie told it,
“My-my, what big teeth you have!” As one slobbered over my chunk
she warned, “Count your fingers!"
They
swiped all our fruit snacks and it was noon before we reached the Visitor Center.
Ruthie pointed happily, “Good, there’s a Subway and I’m starved!”
After
wolfing down my Italian-sub, I waved a brochure from inside. “There’s a
gold-panning demonstration down at the creek! They have them every day!”
She nodded,
“Let’s do it! One nugget would pay for our whole trip!”
At 1:00
PM sharp Ranger Meghan, employed by the Dept. of Game, Fish, and Parks led several dozen of us down the hill to Grace Coolidge Creek. Next she told us, “After handing out your pans, I’ll circulate to
show you how to do this.”
Her
accent sounding familiar, I asked where she was from.
As
proof to world growing ever smaller she answered, “You’ve probably never heard
of it-Antigo, Wisconsin? (A little over an hour north of our place). I graduated
from UW-Stevens Point over there this last May.” (My alma mater too).
Someone
asked hopefully, “Has anyone found gold during your demonstrations?”
“Sure!
Yesterday a woman found three little gold flakes and some garnets!”
We
grabbed our pans and waded in. The day had grown hot and the icy creek felt
wonderful on feet finally free of the sweaty boots. Panning for an hour got us
nary a flake, but Ruthie had kept a pebble the stream had tumbled until
well-polished.
When
shown to Meghan she grinned, “A nice blood-red garnet! Good for you!”
Our day
of surprises wasn’t over yet. Just down the road traffic had stopped for a
buffalo herd to cross over. In no mood for people messing around on his road, a gigantic bull shook his
horns at the car in front of us. Then he charged it! As the driver quailed
behind the wheel, the bull stopped to snort angrily at him, then resumed shooing
along the herd.
When we
stopped for another herd, an expensively dressed woman in high-heels got out of
her car with a camera. Clearly posted nearby was a sign practically shouting in
big block letters; “Buffalo are dangerous! Do not Approach!” Good fortune smiling down, she snapped
a couple close-ups of the one-ton monster glowering at her, then strolled unconcernedly
back to her car and drove away.
Later homeward bound we agreed that our impromptu day-trip to this area hadn’t done it
justice, not even close.
Frowning,
Ruthie declared, “Next time we’ll definitely get into the Black Hills!
We barely saw them today!”
I
nodded, “Yeah and I bet those streams up there are loaded with nuggets!”
Brightening again,
she rolled her eyes and laughed, “I’m sure, dear! Remind me to bring some gold pans!”
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