Minneapolis, MN to Pierre, SD
Gate B-14 in the Minneapolis, MN airport is a quiet place, far removed from the chatty Starbucks groupies and the hum of rolling suitcases one normally associates with airport ambiance.
Gate B-14 in the Minneapolis, MN airport is a quiet place, far removed from the chatty Starbucks groupies and the hum of rolling suitcases one normally associates with airport ambiance. I’m here with my co-worker, Joslyn, and we are scheduled to board a connecting flight (a day late, mind you) to Pierre, South Dakota to attend the Governor’s Conference on Tourism.
Gate B-14 consists of six empty seats. A “business center,” which looks like someone stole six study carrels from a college library, are arranged haphazardly across from a deserted ticket counter. The view out the window is what you would expect to find in Minneapolis in the dead of winter. They sky is sheet metal grey. New fallen snow swirls across the plowed tarmac as if it’s being spread by large paint brush only to be erased quickly by a gust of wind.
Our Beachcroft 1900 D Turbo Prop is parked near the gate wobbles with each gust. How reassuring. The pilot, who looks like he’s maybe twenty braves the cold and inspects the plane. Even more reassuring. De-icing trucks wait patiently. Downright awesome.
Great Lakes Airlines, Beachcroft 1900 D Turbo Prop enroute to South Dakota in January. No heat. No snacks. No cockpit door.
Joslyn and I fold ourselves into this nine seat-plane along with one other passenger. From our vantage point, we have a full view of the cockpit where the pilot and co-pilot fumble with buttons, nobs and wheels for the duration of the flight. The only heat on the plane barely escapes the cockpit. Think refrigerator with wings, slightly larger.
Our plane rumbles and whines its way to Watertown, SD to drop off our other passenger on route to Pierre. Mind you, it’s not the most creative name for a city. The name and logo on the terminal claims it to be “South Dakota’s Rising Star.” I’d vote for some “South Dakota’s rising temperatures” about now. The landscape, blustery weather and simple terminal have that cold war feel. I was hoping the ground crew would be sporting fury, black Russian ushanka hats and grim faces. Nyet.
Canada Geese literally chilling near the South Dakota Capitol Building
Fifty minutes later we descended below a curtain of clouds and got our first glance of the outskirts of Pierre, SD. It resembled French toast, hold the syrup but add powdered sugar. The land below us was a combination of light and dark brown hues with patches of snow scattered here and there. An occasional house braved the elements. Cattle tracks veined their way over hill and dale.
Pierre sits on the banks of the Missouri river and is smack dab in the middle of South Dakota. It’s the second least populated state capital in the US behind Montpelier, Vermont. Just over 13,000 call this place home of which 2,400 work for the state government. Driving into town from the airport, you pass the requisite “killer of small town downtown”, Walmart. There is abundance of car dealerships, fast food restaurants and stores that repair stuff.
It’s a squat town. Nothing is really more than three stories high with the exception of the capitol dome which tops out at 161 feet. It’s an impressive building in an architecturally challenged city. Adjacent to the capitol is a geo-thermal fed lake which is a popular gathering spot for thousands upon thousands of honkin’ and poopin’ Canada Geese. It was quite the attraction, but watch your step.
Admittedly, most of our time was spent at the Best Western Ramkota Hotel semi-listening to conference key-note speakers and pretending to pay attention at breakout sessions. Joslyn and I scheduled our own breakout session for a quick hour-long, self-guided driving tour of this capital city. First on our impromptu itinerary: A drive across the Missouri river and back. Uneventful.
An off ramp from the bridge on the Pierre side dumped us into Steamboat Park on the banks of the river. It boasts a disc golf course, boat ramp and Pierre’s first school house, circa 1881. It’s barely a one-room school house and is no larger than a present-day backyard shed. One of the things I found odd about the park was the homes that bordered the park tended to be of the mobile or bland apartment building variety. One would expect real estate that bordered such a nice park and the flowing Missouri would come at a premium, but the area is prone to flooding and suffered significant damage in 1952 and again most recently in 2011. The well-to-do of Pierre tend to hang their hat and hopes on higher ground.
Last stop: What Pierre refers to as the financial district. Well, there is a Bank West so I guess that counts as financial. Other than that, it’s a somewhat depressing block or two rather than a district. I wonder if this area ever saw brighter days. Maybe before the Walmart? Or, the flood of ’52? One enters the “district” by at the corner of Business 14 and the S. Pierre Street. Browse ‘till your heart’s hearts content at Hardware Hanks, Prairie Pages, or Second Editions Family Clothing.
We wanted to grab a cup of coffee at Pierre 347, a local coffee shop but they closed at four pm. Other than the departing baristas, the financial district was void of anyone, which might explain why city government chose to populate various parts of the city with life-size bronze statues of former governors of South Dakota. At least, that way someone is on the streets of Pierre at any given time. If you are up for it, walk a block to the corner of E. Dakota and S. Pierre for a selfie with Governor Wollman or Governor Norbeck. Then, celebrate your brush with former South Dakota greatness at Bob’s Lounge a block away. I’m still kicking myself for grabbing a cold one there.
Work responsibilities ended our tour. That evening we had the pleasure of attending an event called “Hear the Roar and Feel the Thunder” where we were encouraged to celebrate the 75th Anniversary of the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally at the Ramkota. Vroom, vroom. The website invited us to “come as a gang, or just a rider, dressed appropriately in your favorite biker gear!”
I looked like a college professor.