Dean will turn 80 in a few weeks. He is a garrulous old fella with a spring in his step and a smile on his face that I would say is painted on, but it runs deeper than the surface. The guy is jolly. And he's an American history buff, which makes sense given that he was an American history teacher until he retired 40 years ago. At that time, he says, he didn't want to just resign to fishing with all his newfound time. He wanted to do something more productive. Something to keep up sharing his love of America's past (which is obvious in the way he speaks of it.) So, he purchased a corner gas station just off the highway, the land behind it, and created his own gas station/convenience store/knickknack shop and tribute to 1880's Americana. And it was one of the more ridiculous and random things I have come across yet. I seldom use the word silly, but it was exactly that.
Upon first arriving in Buffalo Ridge to check this place out (which I read about here), I met Dean at the counter of his convenience store and asked for a coffee to get my morning going. Pulling out a 30 oz. styrofoam cup and filing it with fresh, piping hot coffee, the golden ager asked if I take milk, offering up this explanation as to why I should: "The milk is good to counter the acidity. Coffee is very acidic. You see, when you get older, you have to start going to the pee doctor, and the pee doctor, he'll tell you that milk is good to lower the acidity of the coffee. So it's good for ya. And that's important." He smiled and chuckled and my smile spilled into a stifled laugh and I nodded my head in agreement, uncertain of what to do or say in response.
I shifted gears and inquired as this cowboy town I'd heard of, was told it's available every day from sunrise to sunset. Two minutes and six dollars later, I was on my way through the gates of paradise into a time and place that never existed anything like this. The land behind the gas station was dry, barren and dedicated to this fenced in, structurally questionable little town filled with all sorts of cut and paste information boards, tombstones, plastic horses, hairy mannaquins wearing overalls, and robotic recreations of doctors, blacksmiths, gamblers, politicians, and the like, all held together with caution tape, chicken wire and invisible cobwebs. And of course a field of buffalo and sweatlodges. I've put together the below slideshow to illustrate just how... unusual the whole place was. It wasn't unlike a museum crossed with a haunted house. In fact, it was precisely like that.
1880 Ghost Town - Buffalo Ridge, SD from billy simons on Vimeo.
Dean's dedication to this project was a little overwhelming and I couldn't help but laugh to myself the entire time I wandered around this gunslinger's playground, literally asking myself outloud, "Why?" The amount of time and money gone into this (and corresponding lack of quality as its result) was mind-boggling. But he seemed like the kind of guy who pours his heart into whatever he does, be it making my coffee or trying to recreate and commemorate years past. He has that flair of an older generation American who sincerely cares about his country and how it has evolved and what those changes may mean in the country and its people. He rattles off facts and figures and stories of the US like they're his own. And I'm sure if you ask him, you'd find that he does feel a certain ownership to them by way of being American. But it's not a cocky pride or an obnoxious one. He's simply content with who he is and where he's from. Still, of all his myriad likeable characteristics, my favorite is this: when you ask him for a photo, he insists you take one together.
I said my thank yous, we shook hands, and I was off.
Billboard are everywhere out west. In many places, that's all there are. And there are usually only three of four places being advertised. Over and over and over again. So thanks to tens if not hudreds of billboards advertising it, I stopped in to Casey's Cafe in Chamberlain, South Dakota for "the perfect cheeseburger." Well, it wasn't perfect. It was good, but that's where my compliments stop. It was like every other dive-type burger joint back east. Just a little blissful saltiness in the aftertaste that makes it different. I enjoyed my lunch and a few moments of looking out over the quaint yet active lake-centric community. In the middle of so little else, Chamberlain seemed to be a fun place full of outdoor activities for families and such. As for me, I was off to the Badlands.
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