Eunice Wang

When my boyfriend Josiah suggested we check out the Mickelson Trail over the upcoming Fourth of July weekend, I was immediately intrigued. It is a 109 mile long rail trail in southwest South Dakota, heading north to south through the Black Hills National Forest. All the pictures online looked incredible; there appeared to be cute little towns along the way. It reminded me of my many rides on the Katy Trail, a similar rail trail in Missouri. I knew I would enjoy a bikepacking trip like this, and so planning began in earnest.

We left town Thursday afternoon, taking the back way up to Edgemont, South Dakota. There was a humble beauty to the eastern Colorado plains, turning into rolling hills through Nebraska and South Dakota. As we drove through the night, firework shows lit up the dark sky. We got to Edgemont just around midnight and camped at the trailhead, falling asleep to more fireworks and the occasional car passing on by.

The next morning, we got ready for the shuttle up to Deadwood. The northern point of the trail, according to the elevation profile, was the highest point. From there it would be a net downhill back to Edgemont and the car. The plan was to finish in two days, which seemed very possible.

Our shuttle driver met us at the trailhead and loaded up our machines. The two hour drive was scenic and drizzly, passing through Wyoming. The hum of the motor and road was incredibly soothing. I dozed off at some point, and woke up to the cutest roadside scenery; greenery and houses built on hills. We passed through Lead, SD on the way to the Deadwood trailhead. My anticipation continued to grow as we arrived at the trailhead, taking in all these new surroundings. After a quick breakfast, restroom visits, and a photo op, we were on our way. We were doing the freaking Mickelson Trail!!

The trail itself was well packed gravel and overall gentle grades. We passed by abandoned mining operations and reveled in our unfolding adventure. Everything was going so well and everything was wonderful. According to my Garmin computer we were going uphill, but thanks to my borrowed ebike and its motor, it was no problem.

Then Josiah checked the battery percentage on his Onewheel. It was lower than he had hoped. “I don’t know if it’ll make it,” he said, “with all the climbing.”. The Onewheel chair, as a machine that defies explanation, was truly a sight to see on this trail. Even the trail rangers had commented on it at the Deadwood trailhead. But it apparently did have an Achille’s heel; the combined strain of a sustained uphill and the added weight of a bag, plus Josiah’s beast Haku. He considered the situation some more. “If the road’s close enough, I’ll hitchhike,” he said, and with that Plan B in place, we continued on.

It was beautiful all around us in its overcast way. The clouds and mist felt nice as I kept on pedalling. Josiah took a break to carry his setup, and then to walk it. I continued to the top of a hill and stopped by a substation, neatly situated a couple hundred feet next to the trail.

How funny, all this electricity in one place, I thought. Maybe I can make some joke about charging the Onewheel here.

Once Josiah caught up, he took a good look at the substation. “What’s that box, by the gate?” he asked, and went to look closer. He lifted the little cover off the box, and then came running back, high fiving me with a big grin. “Eunice, it’s an outlet!”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. But it was true. This substation happened to have two electrical outlets just outside the gate, unlocked and apparently free for public use. We ended up charging both the ebike and Onewheel, and popped a squat under a tree in the meantime. It would take some time for them to charge. But it was nice to take a break and eat a snack. A couple people passed by but they didn’t seem to notice the charging taking place, which was probably for the better.

Once the Onewheel was at 100%, we were back on the trail, cruising with renewed hope. The trail had begun to slope downhill, which is the best part of biking. It made it easy to just enjoy myself and take in the scenery. Some of the clouds had cleared and made everything brighter. I felt like I was in a Studio Ghibli movie, pedaling in the countryside. There were even cows on and beside the trail. They were gentle beasts with resonant mooing, especially as a herd.

We took an afternoon break to charge at a campground, and then a stop for dinner in Hill City, SD. It felt good to have a solid meal and a strong margarita. The sun was still shining when we left. But after a couple miles the rain came back strong, requiring a quick change into raincoats. We rode along like that for a bit and eventually the rain passed, like always.

It was clear and a little cooler when we arrived in Custer, SD, to what looked like a Fourth of July festival in town. The park was lively with activity. Quite a few people were blocking the trail, but I was too tired to be annoyed. We got to our hotel and after some explanation during check-in, we were able to charge our machines in the staff laundry room. This was very nice of the staff, and also meant we didn’t have to lug our crap upstairs. After a shower and a few more snacks it was time for some well earned sleep.

The next morning was bright and sunny. We took stops for breakfast and a gas station visit, and then we hit the road once again. The trail had a little less shade this way. There were occasional tree lined sections, but far more open areas. These wide open spaces were beautiful. However, it meant we were at the mercy of passing clouds, and if they could provide shade. Every so often, a thick one would move above us, and it felt amazing.

We took charging breaks at a campground, and then in Pringle, SD. Pringle looked like a quaint little place. They had their own bicycle monument, or something like it. It had a gate and tunnels built in, and looked a little like a lawsuit waiting to happen. But it was still a sight to see.

The terrain started changing around us, to rocky cliffs and more steeper hills. It kept getting hotter. The rest stops by the trail had water pumps, and today we took each opportunity to pour cold water onto our heads and necks. It was the most refreshing thing. The mile markers were steadily counting down to zero. We were so close to the end.

There weren’t really any charging points after Pringle, and we still had a ways to go. We had passed two substations, but neither of them had that little box outside their gate. Josiah began to feel range anxiety over his Onewheel. Would it make it back to the car? It was hard to know for sure. But we were only five, four, three miles from the Edgemont trailhead. And the road was right next to the trail.

He spotted a shady tree by the trail. “I’m going to wait under this tree,” he said, “and you go back to the trailhead. Load up the bike, drive back here, and pick me up.”

It sounded like a doable plan. I had never done anything like it before, and surely I was capable, but part of me was still nervous. What if some random thing went wrong? And yet this did seem like the best course of action. My ebike had plenty of battery, and I could still pedal it even if it ran out of juice. The Onewheel unfortunately had no such failsafe. If its battery fell to 0%, it would become little more than a 40 pound brick. Carrying that brick the last three unshaded miles would have been unpleasant at best, and miserable at worst.

“Okay,” I said, “see you soon.” I zipped the three miles back to Edgemont with the ebike on turbo mode, feeling an incredible rush of wind. With my mission in mind I continued on the trail, noting how it ended at a road intersection. But thanks to some well placed signs, I found my way on the roads, all the way to a railroad crossing with the gate down. Yes, this was the somewhat rare moment in time when a train was passing through. There were a few folks in cars and on bikes waiting there, and apparently they had been there a good 25 minutes already. We started to try to detour, but in the next moment, the train finished going through, and the gate went up.

“Well, aren’t you a good luck charm,” said the lady cyclist from the railroad crossing as I passed her. All I could do was laugh a little and make some witty remark back. My legs were feeling those 109 miles, but I had one more thing to do. I made it to the trailhead in anticlimactic fashion. There was the car, right where we had left it. I wrangled the ebike into the back and hopped into the driver’s seat. It was a quick drive back to that shady tree, to where Josiah and Haku had been waiting.

It started drizzling as we drove off. Where had this rain been all this time, during the hot day?? Mother Nature is a fickle bitch, I figured. But I really couldn’t be upset. This trip on the Mickelson Trail reminded me why I love biking, and the joy of a long ride. Where I could just zone out and not think too hard. Even with charging needs, random hills, and the hot sun, everything turned out fine. In the end, I didn’t have to worry about a thing.