The Dacotahs

Dacotah is a Native American word for “friend.”

After achieving our legal requirements for South Dakota residency, voter registration, re-establishing Medicare coverage and plethora of sight-seeing tours around the Black Hills, we headed out into the vastness of the rolling prairies that lay from Rapid City in western South Dakota to the eastern city of Sioux City.

The Coach now travels along easier without the long grinding steep inclines so common in Colorado, Wyoming and the Black Hills of South Dakota.  We make good time as we follow Inter-State 90 towards the Lake Cochrane Recreational area run by the South Dakota Parks Department.  This allowed us to make several stops along the way for points of interest.

We stopped in Wall Drug. I have seen their bumper stickers on cars as long as I can remember! Well, it is the biggest commercial entity I have seen outside of Yellowstone. There were stall and more stalls, selling everything from sports pennants, rubber tomahawks, and high priced Western prints to a hundred different formulations of fudge flavors.  We partook of the fudge settling on a combination of peanut butter and dark chocolate! YUM!

The next stop along the I-90 Corridor was the Corn Palace.  It is called the Madison Square Garden of the Mid-West.  It is an arena that features concerts, theatre plays, comedians, magic acts and most importantly, basketball games for the local high schools.  Its Taj Mahal type towers, all its outer and inner mural panels are totally constructed of different colored corn cobs cut and shaped into scenes.  These scenes change in variety and complexity twice a year.  I marveled at the mural’s depth and scope. This is different and neat, but I wondered how one becomes a corn cob mural artist.

Closer to Sioux City, the high plains prairies with their open range pastures turned without protest into fields of endless corn and soy bean fields. Each field is the same as the last in a seemingly endless progression of bright green leaves waving in the southern breezes. They remind me of a sea with rolling waves that shimmer and shine with the changing light.  It is a pleasant visual experience.

Here along the inter-state medians and shoulder areas are mowed.  I quickly realized that the adjacent landowners are mowing them and collecting the cuttings into four-foot high round bales. What seems to be present is cooperation between the state and the landowners.  When I asked about the practice at a local station they told me it is necessary to help protect the highway travelers from deer crossings, that without those cuttings, deer would just suddenly appear, and you can guess the rest.  It must work as there are absolutely no dead dear carcasses along any of the highways and it gives highway systems a total look of being manicured, almost estate-like!

We find Lake Cochrane Recreational Area to be the most rural place we have stayed so far!  Jude reports to me that there will be no Interstate noise here.  I laugh as we have had our brushes with Colorado RV Parks that are close to the constant rumble of interstate travelers.

The Recreational area features two lakes. Cochrane is a large body of water with its twin lake called Oliver right next door.  This presence of two bodies of water makes it very convenient for me to fish and the warm temperatures and humidity made it possible to fish at night.

I forgot how pleasant it is to fish at that time.  The rural nature allowed a really nice view of the Milky Way and all the stars present on a New Moon.  The shore line has limited access places and was almost entirely wooded with mature Oaks and Cottonwoods.  Among the trees and bushes is an old friend that I have not seen since my Army enlistment days at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri…Fire Flies!

There is a sentiment of peace with the gentle winds, the star-lit skies punctuated with the occasional shooting star, the sounds of the nocturnal animals and then the on and off bursts of light from the fire flies.  Nice, really nice, and oh, did I mention the fishing? Blazing!!!

The bass were eager to cooperate and throughout the evening, I caught nearly thirty bass. This was just the icing on the cake of a wonderful summer evening. Within my stay around the Cochrane and Lake Oliver area, I had a very successful fishing adventure with numerous catches of Large Mouth Bass, Walleye and Northern Pike.  One Walleye measured over 20” and one Northern measured in at 33 inches.  Wow!! I am grateful for my nomad travels. What fisherman could not like this!

One thing I have always said about quality involved fisherman is that they are the first witness to water and environmental issues.  They notice things going on negatively and are involved with trying to create better fishing and that includes the environment where fish live. I was going to be a witness. It was during an afternoon fishing on Lake Oliver, I noticed an animal in the shoreline bushes.

It looked like a beaver and I wondered how a beaver lived here as I never noticed the presence of a domed stick beaver house anywhere in the two lakes.  I sit motionless in my float tube and studied the large brown animal.  I guessed it to be nearly 10-15 pounds and watched it stripping the bark and leaves from a bush.  I waited until it turned to see if I could see the flat tail and positively identify it as a beaver. It eventually turns.  No flat tail!  This animal has the tail of a rat!

So here was an animal that looked like a beaver but was not. It was way too large to be a Muskrat.  That could only mean one thing.  I believed I was watching a Nutria. They are an invasive species from South America.  They are a large rodent and do considerable damage to waterway shorelines and dams by digging their denning burrows.  Where they are common in such states as Florida, Georgia, and Louisiana, and other southern states, their Game & Fish Departments have full time employees who do nothing else but attempt to eradicate the Nutria.

Their ability for frequent litters and few animals that can help control them; they are a serious problem where they are found.  But this is South Dakota, a very harsh climate in the winter with snow and ice.  How could this animal be so far north?

I quickly go to the internet to make sure…Wow!! There is no doubt.  The Nutria in the images section are a dead ringer for what I saw on the shoreline.

I seek out the Park staff and report my sighting.  They quickly report the incident to the South Dakota Department of Fish & Game.  The very next morning, a game warden comes and interviews me concerning my discovery along the shoreline of Oliver Lake. I report to him the where and when, size and everything else I can remember!

He says that they are taking the report very seriously and are mobilizing a team within the Department to arrive and find the reported critter as they are fully aware of the destructive nature of the Nutria on aquatic environments.  I am happy that I was able to report such a threat to the authorities, but I would have no closure on this as we were leaving the recreation area and traveling north and east to the Detroit Lake Area in Minnesota the next day.

Corn Palace Image courtesy of Sean Jackson via Creative Commons license, some rights reserved.

Rocky Mountain High

We traveled north out of Albuquerque on I-25.  Its steep grades and climbs held our traveling time down.  Our next destination was Trinidad State Park just inside the Colorado Line!

Our camp site was made for a tent camper, so it set up some challenges to fit in our 31 foot coach.

Those years of truck driving experience as a Beer Distributor paid dividends as with just some back and forth adjustments we were able to find the best angle that we could find the best coach position to get it to level.  Our replaced leveling motor preformed handsomely, and it was just a short time that we were settled in and ready to explore, and fish!

Trinidad Lake is held captive by the drought that seems to have no state boundaries.  The ranger reported it was down about half way, but I noticed its waters were clear most likely direct from the towering Rockies off in the Westerly direction that still held their wintery snow caps!  Maybe some of that snow pack will find its way to this shinning blue Gem of a lake!

Just as we began to make plans, Jude became victim to an intestinal bug. I stood by offering condolences and sympathy while symptoms peaked and waned.  Jude is the healthiest person I have ever known and when she goes down, it is rare but that being said, it is that health and the resilience it provides that soon had her feeling fine and ready to explore our new surroundings.

highway of legends

We took a drive on what was called the Highway of Legends.  It traveled west of Trinidad for a while passing through old turn-of-the-20th-century  coal producing towns that provided fuel for the railroads that were the arteries for the newly blossoming Industrial Revolution sweeping America and the world!

Suddenly we were in the Front Range climbing higher and higher past geological formation such as the Dakota Wall that rose vertically for over two hundred feet.  We did not know that this formation was a totally unique feature of the Rocky Mountain and was present throughout its traverse as the spine of America!

We traveled over a 10,000-foot pass.  I remembered that is was well over a decade ago that my travels in Wyoming and its neighbor states took me that high. Jude and I both noticed the pressure difference but our slow ascent in altitude over the past month spared us any altitude adjustment problems such as headache or fatigue.

The highway wandered through summer homes built by their owners to effectively escape whatever urban confines their winter residences held.  They ranged from the anointed to simple in style but my mind could not stop thinking of the drought and seeing these dream homes completely surrounded by bug infested forests.

The Legends Highway found its way back to I-25 but not until it wondered through golf courses, bedroom communities, and resorts dotting the eastern front range.  It was a pleasurable journey of a hundred miles where we were blessed with a plethora of Juniper and Pine foothills, dotted with small Alpine lakes fed by snow melt and framed by crystal blue skies against snow-capped towering mountains!

One look at Trinidad Lake led me to believe that the Rainbow Trout that lived there would seldom see hand-flies from anglers. They would be fed a never-ending menu of green, yellow, garlic Power baits by its visiting anglers.  I pulled my fly tying box and in a short time produced a dozen Double Renegades flies.

Rattle Snake Kindgom

I tie one fly on my fly rod and headed in the direction to the lake near the campground. I ended up scrambling down a steep bluff to the water’s edge.  All the time going down bouncing from rock outcropping to another, I was thinking that I may very well be in Rattle Snake kingdom, but the water called!

A dozen casts produced a scrappy Rainbow!  In Quick succession, four more Trout followed.  We feasted on fresh trout that evening.

The next morning when we were on a Trinidad State Park sponsored bird walking tour, we came across a coiled Western Diamondback Rattle Snake sunning itself in the morning sun!!  The very area I bounced down the previous evening was indeed snake kingdom and that forays off steep rocky inclines was not really the smartest thing to do!  I revised quickly how to present a fly to those willing Rainbows.

Our sea eagle fold-cat (“the meal ticket”)

One of the toys we have is a Sea Eagle Inflatable Pontoon style Fold Cat boat with a  Minkota 30 pound thrust motor.  It is equipped with two seats and is quite comfortable and very stable.  It was a perfect platform for Jude’s continuing fishing lessons.

As an adult, Jude has never caught a fish.  As her mentor, I hoped to use that comfortable boat and fly rod to catch her first fish.  It is always special when a beginning angler can say that their first fish caught was on a fly.

We set out early the next morning.  Within a few hundred yards, Jude’s first fish was a reality.  We released it and I was proud of her.  I went on to catch more trout and some Walleye that I was targeting.  I had always heard that they were excellent table fare. We found that they were as we had them grilled on coals that evening.  There is nothing like fresh fish.

The next morning, we were moving on deeper into Colorado but since Memorial Day weekend was upon us and that traditional mile marker of summer meant everyone with a trailer, tent or coach was out seeking what we were seeking. Adventure!

We found eight days at another Colorado State Park named John Martin and thanked our lucky stars as it only had one reservation left when we called.  We packed the coach and set off again.  There is something thrilling about being able to do that.

We found our spot at the Lake Hasty (just below John Martin Dam) to be outside the rows of shady spots nestled with rows of Cottonwood trees at the Lake Hasty Campground.  With temperatures pushing 10 degrees above normal at 87, we knew that without some quick action, our coach’s air conditioning would run 24 hours a day.

We contacted the staff with hope of moving to a more benign spot.  We just happened to inquire at the same time a Ranger was at the front desk.  He knew exactly what to do.  He okayed us to stay in the Camp Host spot that was adjacent to the Lake and blessed with shade most of the day!  Jude and I realized that through constant checking with reservation staff, we could benefit when often online reservations present a different situation.

After visiting a local tackle store, we went armed to the lake with that local insight to catch two species that I had little experience with in my history of fishing. One was called a Wiper (a hybrid between a Striped Bass and a White Bass) and a Crappie.

Jude had become fond of my ultra-lite spinning rod I had that featured 4-pound test line. When I was a professional fisherman, I used that rod to win over $1500.  It just catches big fish being that it presents lures in such a finesse way.  Well, two days in a row, she caught the largest fish. One was over five pounds.  Not bad for four-pound test line.  She is on her way as an angler!

The one thing I can say about this part of Colorado which is in the southeast corner is that the wind does blow and blow hard.  Two evenings in our stay at the Campground had winds that I estimated to be over 50 mph and wiped out at least a dozen tents.  I am not sure any tent could make it those gale winds.

Being from Wyoming, I have some experience with wind, but I am used to wind that comes and goes. The wind here is constant.  I can tell you that wind of that duration and intensity is hard to sleep through in our coach.  A couple times I told Jude that we needed wind tie-downs that mobile home owners use.  I laughed but those gusts shook our coach pretty good.  It also limited our boating/fishing to just a few hours in the morning because the wind would come up and literally blow us off the water.

miller migration

In Arizona, I was always surprised at insect migrations that would suddenly occur.  Tarantula, Sphinx Moths, Praying Mantis, Lubber Head Grasshoppers were some of the insects I noticed in Arizona. After spending one night in the campground, I moved one of our camp chairs and between 30 and 40 little Millers flew out!  Over the next few days, we noticed more and more Millers/Moths in the RV.

I quickly realized that they could not have traveled into the coach in the number that was present primarily through the door.  They were in fact coming up from underneath the coach. They would seek refuge from the wind and daylight by roosting in the sanctuary that the Mirada provided.  When it became dark, they would climb up through the smallest spaces or cracks and enter the coach and then flutter about trying to escape the coach’s cabin.  We were constantly trying to keep them under control inside the camper.  There is something annoying when you are watching TV and a Moth is crawling or fluttering on the screen.

We then started to notice the birds.  Every day we would see birds line up on the campground’s bathroom, showers and laundry sidewalk.  What they were waiting for was the staff to sweep the interior rooms and then sweep the pile of moths outside.  It was like free food for the Western Kingbird, Robins and the Grackles. It was quite a scene watching the birds wait for the staff to open the door.

We spoke to the staff and they said that this was a mild year for the Millers!  Last year they were refunding people’s camping fees because of the thousands of the moths entering travel trailers, and when the owners would open a cabinet, hundreds of them would flutter out!

Jude and I are constantly reminded to the blessings that this life has.  The scenery, the fishing, the freedom and now we are blessed with only have five or ten moths a night and it was fun watching the birds line up for a buffet or chase the moths in a 20 mph wind!

Our version of ‘Centennial’

One thing that surprised us about this part of Colorado was the historical part it played in the development of the West.  The Arkansas River was once an International boundary for Spain, Mexico, France, the U.S., and Texas!  Kit Carson is buried here in his home at Boggsville.  The river was part of the Santa Fe Trail which eventually led to the statehood of New Mexico and Arizona.

I was impressed at Bent’s Fort, as every room was chocked full of authentic tools, buffalo robes, furniture, clothes and other authentic era artifacts. It really added to the experience and I have never seen a National Monument so authentically dressed.

We are off to the Denver area tomorrow, so back to civilization.