Day One - Harney Peak and Howls

Posted Sun, August 30, 2009 - 10:07 PM
travel, photography

From Hermosa on the east edge of the Black Hills, it's an easy drive west up to Sylvan Lake. It was about 2 PM, and I was planning to do my usual Harney Peak trail hike/run to start getting acclimated to exertion at elevation - which I will have plenty of over the next two weeks. Immediately after entering Custer State Park, we all had to stop for about a dozen pronghorn that wanted to cross the road. I stopped in at the Needles area and climbed around with my camera a bit. There were three climbers atop the spire just on the west side of the tunnel. I was too late to see them climb, but found a good vantage point to watch them rappel down the back side. (I actually went over the tunnel and bouldered up to the narrow top of a rock to get this photo.)

Climber rappelling at the Needles Area in the Black Hills

Sylvan Lake was busy as usual, but the trail less so. I warmed up by jogging to the first intersection with the Black Elk Wilderness signboard, then power hiked east to the high point on the trail while trying to control my heart rate. Then a run down past the wilderness boundary to the creek, and power hike again to the top of the mountain. It was perfect running weather, cool and overcast but without danger of rain or storms. I chatted with a couple of hikers out on the mountaintop and descended again in an even half hour, running all the way.

Atop Harney Peak, 2007

After leaving the Sylvan Lake area, I located a campground way off the beaten path near the Wyoming border, got some groceries in Hill City, and heading over to settle in for a nice night. I amused myself on the way over by playing "Cows on, Cows off". In other word, each time I crossed a cattle guard, I'd have to guess whether I'd see cows from that section of road. Normally you'd think it would alternate - but not always. Often a guard would separate two adjacent landowners who both grazed their stock. So it turned out to be "Cows on" more often than not. In many cases, they were right next to, or on, the road. They move out of the way easily enough though, so driving too fast is the only real risk.

The national forest campground was called Redbank Spring, and had only four spots, three of which were taken. It overlooked a shallow valley to the east, and downslope near #1 was a small pool fringed with cattails. I could see a small footpath leading to and beyond the wooden fence at the edge of the campground, and climbed through to investigate. Sure enough, just above the pond was a metal pipe set in the ground releasing a few gallons a minute. I dipped my water bottle in, and the water was completely clear with no taste to speak of. I guess it didn't matter that there wasn't a pump.

The three other campers all arrived back just after dark, but didn't make much noise. I settled in and read for a couple hours, then fell asleep.

I woke up two hours later to vist to the outhouse about 20 yards away. The moon had already set and the sky was filled with stars. As I stumbled up the small footpath with my headlamp, suddenly one, then two, then a dozen coyotes took up a howl down in the valley behind me, only a few hundred meters away. It was quite spectacular (in an auditory way), and it was neat to hear the reverberation off the valley walls, not distinct echoes, but just a richness of tone.