JR's Bar

I'm pretty glad I have photos for this post. I'd like to think I'm good enough to make this up (for those of you who know me read: full of shit enough to make this up), but without photos I'm not sure anyone would believe this story even if it was told by the Pope (or, Frankie - he likes it when I call him that). But, I have photos and Wikipedia, and we all know photos and the Internet cannot lie.

OK, so a little over three years ago we're driving west along on I-90 in western South Dakota, which by-the-by, was the last of the 48 contiguous states we had been to together, and we were looking for a place to stop and switch drivers. And, lo and behold, we see the sign above (or, more accurately, the 1.5 signs above). Another mile or so later we see a sign for the same place and it also has the magic words "Truck Parking." Beth was driving, and for those of you who know Beth, her thinking was "we just have to check this place out." Decision made.

This is it, the fabulous JR's Bar and Grill - Food*Drink*Fun - a pole building with a dirt parking lot that was was indeed big enough for a couple of tractor-trailers and a bunch of cars. When we arrived there was only one car out front with a door open and a person passed-out in the back seat. "An excellent start," we though to ourselves.

Now, before we go inside, a little background. Belvidere (population 57 as of the 2010 census) is near the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation (population 15,521) in southwest South Dakota. It also sits in Jackson County, one of the poorest counties in the country. The Reservation is made up of mostly Oglala Lakota Native Americans and is part of the Sioux Nation. For those of you who don't know much about this storied area, this place is near where the Wounded Knee Massacre took place some 125 years ago, and it was also frequented by Chief Crazy Horse* and Chief Gall - both disciples of Sitting Bull - who led the Sioux, Northern Cheyenne and Arapaho at the infamous Battle of Little Big Horn.

Belvidere also is the site of JR's Bar and Grill - and JR himself, shown here standing behind the bar. He was actually a pretty interesting guy. He's a retired civil engineer of some sort, and married to a woman 20-25 years younger who is still actively working as a county auditor. This place is JR's retirement - and as you can see from the photos, you simply can't make stuff like this

up and expect people to believe you. 

When we arrived, there was a group of young Native Americans sitting in the booth by the pool table on the right side of this photo. Apparently, the guy passed out in the car was originally part of this group. After a while, the only woman in the group came over and tried to get Beth to buy her a shot. JR was not amused. He explained to us that begging for drinks by locals from the reservation was a ongoing problem for which he had no patience. Shortly thereafter, the group bought a case of Bud Light and left.

A little while later, a couple of "cowboys" came in and sat at the Bar. I asked JR if I could get my camera and take some photos of the place, and he said he didn't mind. So, here is a look at perhaps the most eclectic/eccentric watering hole I have ever been in - along with some commentary we heard from JR.
 
They did, from time to time, have live music and dancing, and used the stage you see here. Why the area is cluttered with a wagon, a hand truck, a kid's bike, a 4-foot Budweiser blimp, etc., is pretty hard to imagine. The place was full of curiosities like this, and as you can see there was a Juke Box and several games of chance. Also (mercifully not pictured here) the bathrooms looked like they might have been almost an afterthought, and the commode areas were little more than roughed in wooden stalls that had curtains instead of doors which you could draw closed for privacy. That part seemed a little creepy, particularly if you envision a big crowd on a weekend night.
Speaking of big crowds, JR had  his biggest money making weekends when several times a year the folks on the reservation held fast-pitch softball tournaments. Evidently, they take their softball very seriously, and drink a lot of Budweiser in the process. On those weekends he would have a steady stream of people in the bar, and every few hours a group of players would show up and buy several cases of beer. He would have to stock as many as an extra 150 cases of Bud to get through the weekend, and even then he would sometimes run out.

 
Which brings us to the Grill side of Bar and Grill. I'm not sure I saw a real grill. I mean, I don't remember specifically looking for one at the time, but I didn't see any. I ordered a hamburger and some onion rings; pretty safe bet in a bar, right? Well, I don't know if this was typical, after all we were there in the middle of the afternoon on a weekday, and things might have been very different during the evening hours, or on weekends, but the burger and bun came out of the refrigerator in a little pre-packaged clear envelope that had to be torn open, and the onion rings came out of a box in the freezer. Both were subsequently microwaved. Mmmmmm, yummy. That's what I'm talkin' bout...me and you, JR.

Well, as you can see, our making South Dakota the last of the lower forty-eight states to visit was well worth the wait. And, if you ever find yourself driving across I-90 in South Dakota, take exit 163 and look for the Little Bar and Grill on the Prairie. And, ask for JR.

*Awesome Crazy Horse fact: He and his spouse, Black Shawl, had a kid named "They Are Afraid of Her."