Dateline August 6, 2019, Across South Dakota
Having had such a fine time in Cedar Rapids, we set out west toward Montana to see our dear family friends Nancy and John Bohlinger.
South Dakota. Our first stop was Sioux Falls, where we went to see the falls themselves, right in the middle of town.
It is a beautiful park, and the falls were a pleasure to take in.
We spent that night at another Harvest Host just outside Sioux Falls, in Hartford, the Central Valley Golf Course, and they could not have been more pleasant. They were holding a fundraiser tournament for the course, a hundred and forty-four golfers in the morning and another hundred and forty-four in the afternoon, with entertainment and a party that evening we were kindly asked to join. The one catch was that the parking was about as level as a sidehill lie; we chose the downhill version and slept the night with our feet a little below our heads. There were flat spots up by the pro shop, but the crowd had them, and to claim one we would have had to move the rig around eleven at night, well past our bedtime.
Red Rock. We were off early the next morning for Rapid City, where we had a half-past-twelve tee time at a course we meant to write about, the Golf Course at Red Rock, and a fun one it was.
The greens were terrific, the course good and hilly with a few blind shots, and the par threes ran straight downhill, one of them dropping a hundred feet. We missed playing the last hole when a thunderstorm blew in, but it was another fine day on the links.
The Naked Winery. For the night we had picked another Harvest Host, the Naked Winery in Rapid City.
The owner showed us a lovely spot to park behind the place, right on a stream, and then we went in to taste.
He ended up walking us through a great many of the wines they make, and most of them carry names and descriptions that can be read more than one way, Climax Red, Penetration, and the Orgasmic line among their better bottles. It was all in good fun, and a number of the wines were genuinely wonderful, so we joined the wine club and carried off six bottles. The owner, Rob, was a hoot, and we have to admit, the man makes some good wine. In the morning we pointed back toward the Black Hills and the long road to the Bohlingers.
