The first time I visited the Black Hills, with Penny, in 1984, we avoided Custer, SD, because we were both so disgusted about Little Big Horn.

I went there this time, because it had plenty of motel vacancies and I needed a shower.  The next day, July 21, I enjoyed breakfast at Baker’s Bakery, the food being far more imaginative than the establishment’s name.  A bustling, and engaging young man named Seth was my server, and applied himself very well to making his guests feel at home.  The chorizo  omelet was a sheer delight.

After breakfast, I walked around Custer.  Here are some things I noticed.  Below, is Custer County Courthouse.

Next, one of the first settler’s homes in town.

Local rocks are well-displayed at this shop, which was closed that Sunday morning.

Custer’s downtown was just starting to stir.

The town’s very own hill was clearly marked.

Buckhorn Mountain was not marked, but rose prominently, to the northeast, nonetheless.

Custer, the town, is a lovely, welcoming place- a far cry  from its namesake, the General.