Another chilly, breezy, rainy morning, but nothing like yesterday. Still, I wore my jacket and rain gear.
Ahead about five miles was the tiny crossroads of Burbank. One thing I’ve found on this trip is most of these smallest “towns” have lost their cafes and gas stations and the like. I didn’t have much hope of finding anything here.
Just as I was passing a building a guy stepped out and I saw a bar/grill sign. I got coffee and an omelette. A nice bit of luck.
In Vemillion I took an alternate route, a bike path, along the Vermillion River. That was a nice route. I saw wild turkeys and a very high river.
The rain stopped and off went my rain gear. I was eating some crackers leaning back against my pack in a wide, grassy ditch when a Trooper stopped. Someone had called me in. I cheerfully answered all his questions. But after he asked for my license so he could call it in I said:
“Am I legally required to?”
“You are supposed to when asked,” he said. Legally of course, that was a no.
“Am I doing something illegal?”
“Am I suspected of something?”
“Then why would you run my license?”
“If there was a BOLO later for a murder I could get in trouble if I didn’t.”
I disgustedly handed him my license. I still think it’s pathetic that walking cross country is suspicious behavior. As a matter of fact I think it is illegal to demand ID in South Dakota, under those conditions .
If the person is not reasonably suspected of committing a crime, they are not required to provide identification, even in states with stop and identify statutes.
There were very long stretches with nowhere to camp. In Meckling there was a place called Toby’s, famous for its chicken. It’s a town long past its heyday, but Toby’s was hopping. I ordered some chicken and asked about camping.
“You can camp right across the street there, we own that land,” said the waitress cheerfully.
The chicken dinner was great, as was the hot fudge sundae.
I called Chuck, the “River Angel” that has been holding my kayaking gear, then set up my tent in the grass. It was 6:30 and the sun was out.
Chuck showed up right on time. He gave me keys to his pickup and to his shed with all my gear. Chuck also shared a vast amount of knowledge on the river. I plan to make it there, Yankton tomorrow. Thanks Chuck!
Clark August 23, 1804 23rd August Thursday 1804 Set out this morning verry early the two men with the horses did not Come up last night I walked on Shore & Killed a fat Buck—J. Fields Sent out to hunt Came to the Boat and informed that he had Killed a Buffalow in the plain a head Cap Lewis took 12 men and had the buffalow brought to the boat in the next bend
24th August Friday 1804…I killed a Deer which york Packed on his back In the evening I Killed two Buck Elk…Capt Lewis and my Self Concluded to visit a High Hill Situated in an emence Plain…this hill appear to be of a Conic form and by all the different Nations in this quater is Supposed to be a place of Deavels ors that they are in human form with remarkable large heads and about 18 inches high; that they are very watchfull and ar armed with Sharp arrows with which they can kill at a great distance; they are said to kill all persons who are so hardy as to attemp to approach the hill; they state that tradition informs them that many indians have suffered by these little people and among others that three Maha men fell a sacrefice to their murceyless fury not meany years since—
Trip overview and route map with position updates:
Certainly sad that someone walking is so “suspicious” to people. The irony is that someone on a bicycle traveling across the countryside would likely not have been given a second glance of worry. Now on to the water and the isolation of the big lakes, no troopers or doughnut boy cops out there. Stay safe paddling.