The Road to Robbins Roost

Home | Smith Photos | Family Stories | Ryan Data | Smith Data | News Center | SITE MAP | Contact Us
 

Most of these events occurred during our first trip to the Black Hills.  There are a few that may have occurred in our second trip...but hey...I'm OLD

Fishing at Trout Haven and bringing it back to Robins Roost for mom to cook.

Stopping at Storybook Park.  On our first trip to the Black Hills, this was our first stop; and we played here for a long time before we left for Robbins Roost.

The chickens playing tic-tac-toe in Reptile Gardens. In the first year, I don't believe we went inside.  We stayed outside where a few reptiles were on display.

Climbing the dinosaurs in Dinosaur Park.

Family swim at Evans Plunge.  Dad and mom didn't own bathing suits, so they bought disposables (which if I recall were made of some type of paper products)

Visiting Wind Cave, which was the first cave we visited as a family.

Going through the Needles and pig-tail curves.

Seeing chipmunks for the first time.  The only ones we saw before this were animated Disney creatures who went by the name of  "Chip" and "Dale".

Building a fake grave behind Robbins Roost.  We went and told dad what we did, and he proceeded to tell us it was "illegal". So after dinner, we went back and destroyed our artistic masterpiece.

Going to a grocery store in Rapid City and capturing ping pong balls released from an overhead helicopter.  This may have occurred on our second trip, but uncertain.

Walking down to the bridge that crossed a creek in front of Robbins Roost.  We would watch the trout swim the stream and report back to dad and mom what we saw.

Going up to Spearfish Canyon.  Dad telling us that he camped there with other Boy Scouts.  As he said, "it was so cold I had to take a hammer and knock the ice off the end of my sleeping bag."

Going down to the Spearfish Creek and putting our mouths directly into the water to take a drink of this cold fluid.

Stopping at rock shops in Custer.  This is even before Tim and I became engrossed in this pastime.  We bought, what can be best described as, a "sampler".   It was an 81/2 X 11 cardboard souvenir with perhaps 10-15 rocks pasted to the board.

Attending a carnival in Spearfish, at least I think it was Spearfish, where Tim and I were given two snazzy hats with our names emblazoned with glitter in the front..."TIM" and "TERRY" the hats boldly said.  The hats also had a feather festooned to one side.   The next morning, one of us no longer had a hat...car sickness and the need to find a place to throw up led to the hat's demise.

Of course the standards such as the Bad Lands and Mt. Rushmore.

This was a fantastic adventure.  We couldn't believe that something as nice as the Black Hills existed.  Fortunately, the trip turned out better than how it initially started...

I remember when dad and mom announced we were going to the Black Hills.  We asked questions like 'how far are these Black Hills" and "why are they called the Black Hills"?  This was going to be the first trip we ever took as a family - a trip that did not include a stay with either grandparents. 

A few days before we were to leave, dad obtained a luggage carrier...at least that's what he called it.  He attached it to the car the day before we left, and the following morning he began to load our belongings onto this carrier.   On went the luggage, then the boxes of food and cleaning supplies, and finally miscellaneous items such as towels and bedding.   This "carrier" came with a tarp that did not quite cover the sides fully, and while it didn't wrap around the topper completely, dad was comfortable that we'd make it to the Hills with no problems.  Finally we loaded ourselves into the station wagon..

We drove west to Mobridge, crossed the Missouri River, and continued our westward journey.  It was on our way to Lemmon that this fantasy trip started to turn sour.  Dad hit a bump on the road...and a box of supplies fell out of the carrier.   Dad selected a few choice words...placed the car into reverse...stopped by the box and supplies now littered on the road...and began to rearrange the contents on the carrier.  He got back into the car and we drove a few more miles when several pieces of luggage fell off .   This time dad was furious...he placed the car into reverse...and stepped on the gas.   He was determined to run over that piece of luggage that was now setting in the middle of the road.   I think the only reason he didn't  flatten the baggage was because mom kept shouting "John,  stop it". 

Dad picked the luggage up, and replaced it snugly into the carrier.  He got back into the car and drove slow until he reached one the little towns along our route.  Here he picked up some rope, and firmly tied the contents to the top of the car.  Once this was done, we continued on our way to the Black Hills. 

After passing through many miles of nothing,  we came to a little hole in the wall.  On the map it said this was a town, but it was nothing more than a gas station and a post office.  Dad went inside and came back with confirmation that the next town we'd see would be in the Black Hills.  Eventually, the Black Hills appeared on the horizon, and that gave everyone hope that our journey would soon come to an end.