Unfortunately, all good things come to an end. So did this trip and while I'm ready for more, it's time to wrap this one and look at the bottom line.

Here are the last 750 miles:

Leaving Wyoming, we headed East for the Black Hills of South Dakota. With 2 visions in mind, we went to look at the Crazy Horse monument, just to realize that they haven't really gotten much done in the years past. According to Brienna, the monument looks largely unchanged from when she's seen it 15 years ago. However, the cover fee to get closer and park below the monument is still $10. To be perfectly honest, and I DO understand the need to support the family working on the monument, however it would be nice to see something worth the $10.

Maybe I'm just overly critical, but Crazy Horse would not have been worth the fee - at least not at this point. We hiked a quick u-turn and proceeded towards Mount Rushmore to look at the 4 stone carvings of past presidents. Washington, Jefferson, Roosevelt and Lincoln were looking from the top down - truly an awe inspiring sight and incredible pieces of art, work, dedication and skill. (I've taken a few images, they will be uploaded into the trip gallery within the coming days.)

Nevertheless, the urge to look for Nic Cage and spoof "National Treasure 2 1/2 - the Amateur Search", was there, yet quickly spoiled by uncooperative weather gods.

What were days with fantastic weather in all states, changed quickly as the Black Hills fought back and sent us rain showers, making the trip around the Needle Highway, the South Dakota mecca for twisted roads a senseless undertaking and we reserved that for our next trip towards the Black Hills.

Onwards we went, encountering miles and miles of straight roads towards Dickinson, ND. There are also a few images of the straight aways, just brace yourself for not as stunning visuals as compared to Bryce Canyon. Getting to Dickinson, ND, someone must have turned the heat off. It turned cold, heavy crosswinds and overall, an experience much like riding southbound in Utah. Just minus the sun, heat, sand, red rocks, ...OK, it's different altogether.

Before we knew it though, we found almost welcome distractions in form of road constructions seemingly in the middle of nowhere. I've always wondered how those sign holders, the ones that hold the "Slow" and "Stop" signs, go through their day. Especially out in the prairie, with maybe a handful of cars per hour, it must be excruciatingly boring to wait for the next vehicle just to hang the "Stop" sign in front of their face.

For us though, it was a welcome break to stop, stretch the legs for a few minutes and compare the impressions of the last thousand miles. Having a quick sandwich we pressured on, determined to make it to Fargo. We put in a "quick" stop, of about 1hr in Bismarck, prying our frozen bodies of the bikes, getting something warm to eat, just to invite a feeling of comfort and sudden dislike to get back out in the cold. Meanwhile it was 2:30 am and I'm absolutely unsure where we lost that much time! We came close to the North Dakota border at sunset, yet it took all night to get to Fargo, which marked our arrival at near 6 am. I'm at a complete loss where we dropped that much time.

One of the reasons might be that it ... stunk in here! Have you ever run over a skunk? No? Good! You don't want to. Particularly not on a motorcycle. Somehow, about 50 miles out of Fargo, a skunk, seemingly wearing camouflage to blend with the road, was either crossing the highway in front of me, or already firmly attached to the pavement by a prior vehicle, although not quite cold yet. My Concours 14 took it upon herself to squarely aim for the furry friend and roll over it. To make it count, not just with one tire, but with both.

Imagine your mother in law wearing the most god awful aftershave, no...deodorant available and sitting in your lap for the next hour. There's no shaking that smell, there's no escape, there's no instant remedy. The stench just smiles in your face, making every second of exposure count to its fullest. Alas, as if the smell wasn't bad enough as it is, other motorists noticeably back away from you as they near you. It's almost like you're having an aura, just not a favorable one. Insult to injury.

Needless to say, I was pleased to realize that the skunk didn't get my pants, boots or other textiles close to my body. It just firmly lodged its smell into the tires, fairing and other parts of the bike. And yes, you guessed it. The Concours was parked outside upon arrival at the house.

With a total of 8 days gone, but only 4 1/2 days of riding, this wraps a 3810 mile journey from Fargo, ND to Las Vegas, NV and back again. Riding on tarmac in many different shades reaching from black to red to green'ish, seeing gorgeous monuments provided by mother nature and others carved by men, visiting with friends in Las Vegas and making new ones on the way. We shot about 800 images and a short video that will now have to be sifted through, before they're uploaded into the trip gallery.

The famous last words? There's only one thing left to say:

"For once you have tasted the freedom of riding you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned towards the horizon, for there you have been and there you will long to return. " Leonardo da Vinci - lightly adapted by me.

Keep the rubber side down and don't forget to check out the trip gallery for images!

MJ