Whispering Pines Campground – South Dakota

August 23, 2010

There’s something I didn’t tell you.

Since camping at Falls Creek, Kettle has had the runs.

Perhaps I should not have let him drink out of the river. Anyway, the cure I know for doggie diarrhea is to feed him rice. And so I had a new mission for today: find a Chinese restaurant.

Down the road, in the city of Gillette, Wyoming, near the Rockpile Museum, I found a place called Hong Kong Restaurant. By this point I was quite worried because Kettle hadn’t eaten or drank anything since the day before, and what little was left of his pee was brown. I ordered a wonton soup and a large steamed rice. I took it outside and filled a bowl with the rice, the broth and some meat from the soup, and some water. It took some encouragement, but Kettle eventually ate the meat and half the rice, and drank all the liquid.

Because I was so relieved that Kettle had eaten, I was better able to deal with the disappointment that the Rockpile Museum was closed for the day.

We got back on the road, heading for the Whispering Pines Campground, located in the Black Hills of South Dakota, halfway between Deadwood and Mt. Rushmore.

We of course stopped in Deadwood. We walked down the main street, with its saloons, casinos, ice cream parlors, and gift shops. At the end of the street, some guys in cowboy outfits with guns were beginning a performance. One of them told the crowd to be sure not to enter the street or they might get shot by accident. Apparently Kettle didn’t get the sarcasm because when one of the actors did shoot off a gun, Kettle charged off in the opposite direction. I was barely able to hang on.

The Whispering Pines Campground was a pleasant surprise. There was lots of grass, and we had a whole section to ourselves.

Kettle drank more water, but wasn’t too interested in the rice, so for my own dinner I went to the campsite’s “restaurant” at the general store and ordered a steak. I kept some of it for Kettle and threw it into the rice. That was the jumpstart he needed to eat the rest of the rice.

I worked on my blog, then, when everyone at the campsite had gone to bed and it seemed safe, I took out my mat and did yoga for an hour on the grass under the moon and stars.

When it was time to call it a night, I tried again to get Kettle to come in the tent. He wouldn’t so I double-checked his leash and went to bed.

The web site for the campground said to be sure to fasten the tent securely because strong winds will sweep through the valley. Whatever.


Howling Pines is more like it.

How close is South Dakota to Kansas? I was sure I would be writing my next blog entry from Oz.

But the tent held.

And in the morning Kettle was wind-blown but still there, and as close to the tent as possible. I bet he’s not too sure what to think of our little adventure right now.

Closed on Sundays

Things that happen when you drive a lot ...

Entering the Black Hills

There's a new dog in town.

Feel free to think of a caption for this.

Our next home

Our spot

Our mess

Our general store and restaurant

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