Pierre, South Dakota

         When I arrived in Pierre, South Dakota after nine hours of travel, I was relieved to finally rest my head. It was too late to find a meal elsewhere, so I cooked some chicken that traveled with me in the cooler that has become my trusty companion. Combined with some modest salad fixings, I was grateful to have a filling and nutritious meal after the exhausting day. It’s funny how sitting in a car can be one of the most tiring things to endure, and my muscles were so stiff that stretching out in the hotel bed felt heavenly.

The following morning I awoke with a fierce appetite. I dressed and drove into town, hopeful to find something to satisfy my desire for breakfast food. My hotel was technically in Fort Pierre, the suburb of Pierre that lies across the Missouri River. As I crossed the river into Pierre, I passed into the Central time zone from the Mountain Time zone. It struck me that having the delineation pass directly through the center of everything must be confusing for the residents of Pierre and Fort Pierre, but throughout the rest of my day I realized that a misunderstanding of appointment time may be the most exciting thing that happens here all week.

Pierre is the second smallest Capitol by population, following Montpelier, Vermont. Because this town is far more isolated from the rest of society, the effects of low population and a weak economy are much clearer. In Montpelier, trucks and people are constantly passing through, and although the town itself is not a terribly ‘happening’ place, the far more populated city of Burlington is less than an hour’s drive away. Here, there isn’t anything going on for miles, and that leads to a lack of economic competition and therefore, bad restaurants. I went a place with the word “diner” in the name, the Jersey girl in me assuming that it would actually be a diner. When I arrived, I realized that the menu was closer to that of a drive-in and with everyone in the place staring at me like I had six heads, I left and went to a bagel shop in search of something breakfast like. When I received my breakfast sandwich, a bacon, egg and cheese, I was very disappointed to discover that they had barely cooked any of the ingredients and the bagel was hard, chewy, and stale. Thankfully, after my large, steaming cup of coffee, I was able to continue sans-breakfast. I then ventured to the South Dakota State History Museum, where I had a lengthy conversation about the details of my travels with the kind gentleman running the front desk.

South Dakota has been host to a few historical events that are iconic to America. Lewis and Clark made their famous journey up the Missouri river and across the Rocky Mountains to find a path to the Pacific Ocean. Sent by Thomas Jefferson to explore the Louisiana Purchase, they left St. Louis, Missouri on May 14th, 1804 and arrived upriver in South Dakota on August 22nd. After serving as mediators between the warring Arikara and Mandan tribes, they spent the winter in South Dakota with the Mandan. Once spring arrived, they finished their journey to the Pacific, and returned to St. Louis in 1806. Considering the hazards and the magnitude of their journey, it seems justified that Lewis and Clark are among the most famous American pioneers, if not the most famous. Along with the construction of Mount Rushmore, one could make the argument that South Dakota is home to some of the most classic stories and monuments of our heritage.

The museum was mostly on one level, although there was an observation area on the second floor in the back of the building. As usual, there was large section dedicated to the Native Americans in South Dakota, along with the pioneer era. In between that and the exhibit dedicated to more modern times, there was a door that led upstairs to the observation deck. The museum was situated on a large hill, giving one a view of the town and the Capitol building below. It was a dreary, cloudy day and the Capitol dome nearly disappeared amongst the clouds. I was as tired as the lazy condensation, and the aches and pains in my legs and back from yesterday’s long day of driving was not helping my enthusiasm. I descended back to the main floor of the museum to explore the 20th century. I turned the corner, and the full Klu Klux Klan uniform hanging eerily behind the glass caught my attention sharply. It was just as surprising as the first time I encountered one in the Museum of Indiana History. It turned my stomach to look up into the ghostly, empty hood, thinking that there are few garments that are more haunting. I shuddered and moved on, grateful to be away from that awful uniform of hate.

I left the museum and ventured toward the Capitol building. School had just let out, and children were walking everywhere, laughing and talking animatedly. Caught in a moment of small-town charm, I realized that I didn’t see a single parent picking up their child at school, but instead they all climbed onto the school bus, walked, or rode their bikes. I was heartening to see such sensibility displayed in the 21st century; every school zone in New Jersey is a perpetual nightmare because no parent can seem to handle the terrifying concept of letting his or her children ride the bus. I cautiously navigated the groups of laughing kids and found parking a short distance from the school, right in front of the Capitol.

It was a small, traditionally styled building. I entered through the front door, where I was greeted with no security. In fact, I wasn’t greeted by anyone. The legislators were not in session, and the building was so deserted that I stood in the main part of the rotunda on the ground floor taking pictures for several minutes before a young woman walked by with a loud clip-clopping of her heels declaring her presence. It was definitely the most empty of all of the Capitols that I had been to, but it was also beautiful. The rotunda and first three levels of the building were all constructed of a blinding white marble, giving the small space an impressive amount of light. 

The dome didn’t appear to be much at all, but I learned later that a stained glass window usually sits at the bottom of the dome. Presently, it had been sent to Chicago to be cleaned. As I ventured about, first to the Governor’s office to get the Capitols Collection stamp, and then upstairs to the House and Senate Chambers, I enjoyed the architecture and design. It wasn’t the most ornate Capitol I’d been to, but it was tastefully done and traditional. Both of the chambers were dimly lit, small, and traditionally plain. It looked at though all of the furniture was original, and the gallery wrapped all the way around so as to give curious citizens a better view of the proceedings. It was cozy, but very empty.

After leaving the Capitol, I went out in search of a good meal. I pulled into the parking lot of a promising looking Mexican place only to discover that it was undergoing renovations. A couple in a large white pickup had just made the same mistake, and we sat in our cars with the windows rolled down conversing about the disappointment. The woman said, “You know, I can’t even give you a good suggestion. Pierre isn’t very good for food,” giving a sympathetic smile.

After my less than satisfying breakfast experience, I felt reinforced in my suspicions that this would be one of those cities in which I would grow to love my hot plate dearly. I picked up a few simple ingredients at the local super market, a small business called Dakotamart, and returned to the hotel room for a quiet night.

The following morning I left the area with a small measure of relief. Even though South Dakota is home to some of the most important stories of American history, there is not much happening there in the present. The impossible vastness of it all prevents significant economic development, and the isolation of all the towns prevents competition between businesses, and so everyone’s standards for services begin to lower. Even still, I could appreciate the awe that Lewis and Clark must have felt exploring the land so many decades ago, as I have felt it myself traversing their great expanse. Turning up the music I set my sights for Lincoln, Nebraska.