Bison, Burros, More Black Hills Adventures: Custer

Quote: Custer State Park has so much more than we ever imagined. I love bison, and we kept coming across so many of them, both in small groups and large herds, I was in bison heaven. Not mere "bison sightings", the great numbers of them (around 1500 in the park) allow hanging around indefinitely as they socialize, wallow, nurse, and the bulls strut their stuff and woo their favorite cows in the "rut".

Another surprise were the begging burros, with small herds (15-20 in each) at each end of the park. These burros have no shame, and what they want is absolutely clear: food – any kind will do. Those who pull onto the shoulder to see what the burros are up to are likely to get a big burro snout in their open car window, looking at them with doleful eyes, nose sniffing eagerly for anything edible. Not indigenous to the park, they’ve been allowed to remain, more a curiosity than wild, but definitely an "attraction".

Historic buildings are another worthwhile feature of Custer State Park. The Badger Hole was the abode of South Dakota’s first poet laureate, Charles "Badger" Clark, perhaps best known for "A Cowboy’s Prayer". Near Legion Lake, the home and an adjacent cabin that was Clark’s first home, are both open to the public. The Badger Clark Memorial Society has restored these buildings to what they were like while he was living there until he died in 1957. Gordon Stockade replica was slated to be completed the end of 2004 season. The Gordon Party was the first to move into the Black Hills in the Winter of 1874, after Custer’s expedition reported gold there. They were removed 5 months later by the U.S. Cavalry from the region, belonging by treaty to the Plains Indians. But too many white settlers and gold seekers were to follow them, and soon the Black Hills were overrun.

When we arrived, the town of Custer was already in high gear biker mode, with Sturgis Rally to begin the following week. "Welcome Bikers" signs everywhere, and center lanes of Main Street roped off for extra motorcycle parking. We nosed around town, walking up and down Main Street, and eventually ate there, which was a highlight for Bob, but not me. (SeeDark Horse Brew, below).

Quick Tips:

Resorts and campgrounds galore: Custer State Park alone contains four distinct resorts ranging from pretty fancy to basic, and 9 campgrounds. Consider overnighting in the park, close to the action. can be made between May to October.

Live theatrical performances – where? A state park is not usually where you’d think to look for a theater, but Custer’s Black Hills Playhouse is a professional theater and training center associated with the College of Fine Arts and the University of South Dakota. During our stay, they were showing the musicals The King and I and Once Upon a Mattress

Don’t pet the bison: It’s very difficult to follow the rules about staying inside your car when you come across the bison herd of your dreams, especially when half the people who’ve stopped are also outside of their cars. And all the bikers are already "outside" anyway.

Other hazards: Afternoon thundershowers are likely; be prepared. Be alert for poison ivy when hiking trails in wooded areas or alongside streams. Watch where you step and grab; the prairie rattlesnake is venomous.

Best Way To Get Around:

We drove our car. There is a in Custer State Park just off the Wildlife Loop Road, for small planes only. The nearest larger airport is Rapid City Regional Airport, 7 miles east of Rapid City on Highway 44. Within the park, alternate transportation options are available, such as wildlife loop caravans and buffalo safari jeep rides.

Quote: "100 bottles of beer on the wall, 100 bottles of beer…" After our day at Custer State Park, we were debating whether to eat in Custer or Hill City. We were leaning towards Hill City, when we spied a large, compelling, funky looking wooden building on a side street. At the end of the street was Dark Horse Steak and Brew, an upstairs beef and beer establishment. A sign advertised 7 oz filet mignon with fries for $6.95, and Bob’s mouth began watering. Upstairs, the outdoor deck, with torn carpeting, looked in need of cleaning and sweeping. Inside, the big cavernous dining area was… empty of people, save another couple who’d also just arrived. Eventually a young waiter came out of the shadows and seated us. Although we were a bit early for dinner, I always worry when a place is this quiet. But Bob wanted that fancy steak so we proceeded to our booth. From their list of 100 beers, we ordered a pitcher of Michelob amber.

I’m not in the habit of lifting up cushions to check underneath, but as I sat down, I slid the pad, which was small for the seat, back, and couldn’t help notice grit, grime, and bits of old food particles on the bench underneath. I shrugged this off, and ordered a pulled BBQ beef sandwich with caramelized onions and provolone cheese, Bob his filet. Together we shared a large "Sam’s Classic" house salad, which sounded interesting: tossed greens, jicama, cucumber, pecans, feta cheese, and raisins, with choice of dressing – for $5.95. This arrived first. The iceberg lettuce was old and browning on the edges, there was NO jicama whatsoever, and only a miniscule amount of pecans and raisins. I’m used to Bob making a fuss about this sort of thing, but he seemed not to notice, probably had his mind on his coming filet mignon. Depending on the mood I’m in, I’ll sometimes say something, other times keep quiet; this was a quiet time for me. I simply put the old lettuce on the side and ate the rest.

This turned out to be one of the few times that Bob just loved it and I was less than thrilled. He ate his bacon wrapped filet mignon with gusto, while I took a bite of my pulled BBQ beef sandwich and bit into solid chunks of steak that held together firmly, nothing "pulled" about it. Bob took a bite and said, "Yeah, it doesn’t seem to be pulled but it’s good". More shrugging on my part; what kind of a passive mood was I in anyway? Maybe still in my post-bison trance.

After dinner Bob called over the fry-cook, a husky guy with a barbecue sauce splattered apron, to compliment him on the tasty meal. Bob would return in a heartbeat, but not me. Well, maybe just for a beer…

Quote: If we’d have known how much there was to see and do at Custer State Park, we could’ve easily spent a full week here rather than just one day. Our first stop was Peter Norbeck Visitor Center where we ate our sandwiches outside on a picnic table before entering.

At the front door, we were greeted by a raggedy, balding stuffed coyote with a sign pinned on saying, "My fur is gone because of petting. Please don’t let this happen to my friends inside." Among the friends inside were taxidermy examples of bison, mountain lion, mountain goat, elk, and smaller wildlife native to the park.

Thursday’s activity schedule included two wildlife loop road caravans, two patio activities, and two junior naturalist activities for children ages 7 to 12. Right after lunch, a park ranger rounded us up for her gold-panning demonstration. Two daily nature hikes also originate here, navigating creek side, prairie and rocky terrains. Hikes emphasize learning about the park’s birds, plants, geology, and history. Living history demonstrations by costumed interpreters are held throughout the summer on weekends. There are even trout fishing lessons two mornings a week, but participants must have a valid state fishing license.

We were surprised to find four distinct and full-service and nine campgrounds spread throughout this park. Each of the four resorts includes a lodge and/or cabins, restaurant, general store, chapel, and adjacent campground. State Game Lodge, built in 1920, was President Calvin Coolidge’s summer White House. It’s a big, beautiful stone and wood lodge containing a historic Pheasant Dining Room that is open for three meals during summer. The creek running behind the lodge is lined with birch and aspen, and stately oak trees grow among cabins of various sizes surrounding the lodge.

After we rode the Wildlife Loop, Blue Bell Lodge, sheltered by Ponderosa pines, was the next resort we encountered. Western-themed, its name originated from Ma Bell, as it was built by a Bell Telephone executive in the 1920s. Blue Bell’s Tatanka Dining Room specializes in bison, trout, and steak. Old-fashioned hayrides take guests out to chuck wagon cookouts in a nearby canyon, and horseback rides originate in Blue Bell. There’s also a gas station here.

Legion Lake Resort, with cabins and dining room on the edge of Legion Lake, was so named because the area was leased by the American Legion in the early 1900s. You can rent a mountain bike, paddleboat, or rowboat to explore the area on trails or in the water.

Last, we stopped at pretty Sylvan Lake Resort in this northwest appendage of the park. The hotel sits on picturesque Sylvan Lake, created in 1881 by the building of a dam. You can walk around this lovely lake on a trail, paddle in a rented rowboat or kayak, and fish or swim in it if you desire. A large pavilion is available for rental here. 2004 resort fees range from $75 to $400 nightly. Camping fees average $15 nightly.
Resort Reservations: 800/658-3530
Camping Reservations: 800/710-2267

Quote: Last year we visited both the National Bison Range in Montana as well as Yellowstone National Park. We were disappointed in the former, only seeing bison way off in the distance so they looked like dark specks on the hillsides. Yellowstone was much better for bison spotting, with frequent sightings and bison jams. With Custer State Park’s bison numbering around 1500, this was the largest concentration of bison/ per square mile we’d yet visited. I was greatly anticipating viewing these magnificent animals during their "rut", their mating time, which runs from July through August. We hadn’t been driving the Wildlife Loop long when we came across a huge herd, maybe between 250-300 bison, with a string of cars and motorcycles stopped on the shoulder alongside. The bison were right by the roadside in a big open field, some crossing back and forth across the road. This was apparently a favorite wallow area for them, as very often a huge shaggy beast would flip right over with dust flying and feet kicking, taking pleasure in a dirt backscratch.

Standing by our car, I soon became aware of an undercurrent of sounds – something between a cat’s purr and pigeon’s coo. Low and rumbling, but with some vocalization as well, the voice of the herd. Calves were sticking close to their mamas, and now and then nursing. Bulls were doing their own thing, avoiding one another, but showing strong interest in the cows. Following, sniffing and nuzzling the cows, the larger bulls with massive heads incongruously gentle as the purring, cooing rumbling sounds continued. Sometimes a bull would sniff, dog-like, at a cow’s rear. We didn’t see many overtly aggressive moves on the part of the bulls, neither with the cows nor between one another. One particularly large bull began to chase off another one when he was getting too close to his cow, but they didn’t openly clash. We spent a good half hour there, looking and taking pictures, and I was sorry to leave. I felt like I could have watched them the entire remainder of the day in perfect contentment, with those lulling throaty sounds of the herd washing over me.

I was surprised at the lack of aggressive behavior, for I’d imagined we might witness some fighting between the bulls, at least some stamping the ground and bellowing, which reportedly sounds like the roar of a lion, so loud it can carry for 3 miles. Signs of impending conflict include loud grunting, hissing, spitting, head waving, tail raising, stiff-legged walking around one another, and eye rolling and staring. But this herd was relatively sedate as we watched. A ranger I spoke with later said there had been more aggressive displays at the beginning of the rut, but by the second month (August) the bulls were getting worn out.

Bison females calve every other year in their prime. For most of the year, they hang out in matriarchal herds with their calves and yearlings. The bison bulls remain solitary or roam in small groups, with other bulls. But during the rut, the bulls are looking for love, and find it, or rejection, or a fight – in the mixed herd. Bulls butting heads (and getting butted in other parts of their bodies) can lead to injury and sometimes even death. People watching bison at any time need to remember that these seemingly slow and gentle animals are anything but; they are wild and agile, can pivot on a dime, and can quickly gain speeds of up to 35 miles per hour. They can also jump, kick, and swim.

At its historical apex, the bison population has been estimated to number 60 million, ranging over most of what is now the United States, and well into Canada and Mexico. Pioneer settlement in the 1800’s decimated the last of the great herds by wanton and senseless killing of these beautiful beasts. By 1889 only about 1100 bison remained on the entire North American continent. As I’d learned on my visit to Crazy Horse Memorial, the Dupuis family, Indian (Minneconjou) ranchers north of the Cheyenne River, had captured 9 pure bison calves in 1883 and from them started a herd. This herd was later bought by Scotty Phillips of Fort Pierre, and continued to thrive. Around 40 animals from this herd started the Custer State Park herd in 1913. Today, an estimated 250,000 bison live in North America and are no longer considered endangered, but they came very close to extinction just over 100 years ago.

Custer State Park’s herd is actively managed, with an annual Buffalo Roundup in October. Here, the calves are branded and immunized; two-year old bulls are semen-tested, and sale animals tested for brucellosis, TB and the sale cows for pregnancy. The excess bison are auctioned off on the 3rd Saturday in November each year, to join other herds or become food for us. Thousands of private herds have been started from the Custer herd since the first auction in 1966, and the sales from the auction have contributed up to 25% of the parks income.

Further along the Wildlife Loop, we came across several more herds and groups of bison, but none as large as that first one. By the end of the loop, we weren’t even stopping anymore, although I wouldn’t have minded if we had…

Quote: We’d barely entered the park on Iron Mountain Road when we saw about 10 or 12 burros poking around cars parked on the shoulder, and people, some inside their cars, some walking around. What were they doing? We pulled over and watched. The burros were quite obviously requesting food in no uncertain burro-body language, some thrusting their snouts right into the car windows as if to see and sniff for themselves. And many of the people were digging around in their car’s food supply and giving the burros whatever they came up with. In one case this was a head of lettuce, which is probably ok. But several others were getting chitos and chips – not the most nutritious food for people or burros. We were impressed with how gentle these fairly large, well-muscled, hooved creatures were, but had no desire to "feed" them, even if we would have had something in the car with which to do so. Something about the whole scene was faintly disturbing. At the other side of the park, on Wildlife Loop Road, we ran into a replay of this scene, not just on the shoulder, but extending into a large, open field. Again, we stopped, watched, and took photos. The burros looked healthy with shiny coats, and some of the females were quite obviously pregnant.

I was curious about this, so later looked for more specifics in Tatanka magazine, given to us at the entrance station. A "Please don’t FEED US" column announced that feeding any of the park’s wildlife is strictly prohibited. But these burros didn’t seem very wild, and no one was around to enforce this prohibition. I recalled a few miles before the park entrance a store was advertising "burro food". Burro food? I determined to ask a ranger. At the wildlife station, the ranger on duty informed me that the burros aren’t indigenous to the area, but were introduced in the 1920’s by an entrepreneur who used them to carry tourists up Mt. Harney. When his venture failed in the 1930’s, he let the burros loose. Currently there are two small herds, about 15-20 burros in each. Park policy is not to feed them, but "if you must, give them something healthy, like carrots, apples, lettuce, or other raw vegetables." Although the burros behave in an extraordinarily gentle manner, considering their size, they do occasionally kick with their hind legs, and sometimes will nip a tourist. The herds are kept within manageable size by selling some every year during the bison auction.

According to the , ass is the correct term for the animals we more often call donkeys or burros. Ass comes from the Latin asinus, not from the old English arse, a crude term for the human rear end. Male donkeys are called jacks, females jennets. The Western U.S. tends to call asses burros, from Spanish, whereas the East calls them donkeys. Mules are the sterile hybrids that result from breeding a jack to a female horse. The less common hinny, also sterile, is produced by the breeding of a male horse to a jennet.

Christopher Columbus had four jacks and two jennies brought to the New World 3 years after he first landed on its shores. They soon multiplied and also were used to produce mules, which along with burros were used extensively out West for mining. As mining ventures and other projects failed, the animals were often let loose and wild herds grew.

In 1971, the was passed to prevent abuse and attempt some management of these roaming herds in the ever-increasingly populated and shrinking West. At the time of passage of this law, herds of wild horses and burros were estimated at 17,000; by 1993 their census was up to 46,500. Excess animals are removed from the herds and adopted out privately. Because of horse and burro fertility levels and subsequent increases in their populations, the Bureau of Land Management, on whose lands they mostly roam, is conducting studies on temporary anti-fertility methods for the herds.

Quote: We’d been trying to get to Custer for some time now. The week before, we kept getting stuck at Crazy Horse Memorial. Only 4 miles north of Custer, and just too much to see there. But following our day at Custer State Park, we finally made it. Main Street was full of motorbikes as it was just days before the impending Sturgis Rally. They were cruising as well as parked on the sides of the street and in a roped off area in the middle of the street. Walking along, I grabbed a "Welcome Bikers! 6th Annual Custer Cruisin’" magazine, free for the taking in front of the stores. The City of Custer runs the week-long rally, running roughly the same time as Sturgis. Activities include bike show, bike rodeo, bike ride, live music and street vendors. Custer was hoping to top last year’s attendance of 10,000 a day. A lower key more off the beaten path Sturgis.

Historic buildings, most going business ventures, line Main Street. Custer was named for General George Armstrong Custer, who took it upon himself to lead a U.S. government expedition to explore the surrounding Paha Sapa (Black Hills), purportedly for mapping the area. The summer expedition, lasting 60 days, covered 880 miles. Well over 1000 troopers, civilians, scientists, and Indian scouts, and even a 16-piece band accompanied him.

Of the two civilian miners with Custer’s expedition, it was Horatio Nelson Ross who discovered gold in the Custer area. Once the word got out, the Black Hills gold rush was on. In violation of the Fort Laramie Treaty of 1868, the U.S. Congress passed a special act that opened the Black Hills for white settlement three years after Ross’ discovery. Many gold seekers hadn’t bothered to wait, however, since it was difficult and probably not a priority for the Cavalry to keep gold seekers and settlers out of the Black Hills.

Currently, Custer’s proximity to the state park and countless tourist attractions make it a hub for tourism. Lots of activities take place from April through September, both in the town and in the park. There’s no shortage of accommodations, both private and public. Another attraction just west of Custer is Flintstones Bedrock City and Theme Park for the kids. You can also camp there and fill up on Brontoburgers and Dino Dogs. We would have like to see the National Museum of Woodcarving, also west of Custer on Highway 16W. The museum, open from May through October, features the work of 70 carvers, including an original Disneyland animator. Like we always say, "next time…"