Badlands National Park

Note: This is a continuation from previous post.

We had now reached the driving portion of our trip...a nine hour driving day across the entire state of Wyoming. I'll start by saying that Wyoming is amazingly beautiful, but it also includes a giant desolate prairie. We drove through towns that boasted having populations anywhere from 150 people to four...seriously, there is a town out there that has literally four humans populating it. (That was the moment that the FarmersOnly.com commercial became less of an accidental leaked SNL skit and became something I found to be very serious and necessary.) It had been a very long day that became even longer when we passed a "Welcome to Nebraska" sign....excuse me, what? Nebraska wasn't one of our three planned states, and so it was then that I looked at Google Maps to discover that we had indeed driven ourselves into Nebraska. It wasn't worrisome though because we were still on route to Badlands National Park and making good time. When we crossed into South Dakota the countdown was on: we had just an hour of driving left. Even the driving portion is fun and exciting when we're on these trips (partly due to my large consumption of gummy Peach O rings, but mainly because we see really cool stuff), but driving across an entire state for nine hours with me singing every song that comes on the radio can get a little old to the driver. With that said, when the countdown dwindled to only twenty miles remaining, we both were a little over the moon with excitement...until, we turned on a road that was under construction and was complete gravel. For twenty miles. Being in a rental car is stressful enough for Tommy, but driving on a gravel road with rocks kicking up on the windshield was an added stress that he did not need after such a long day of driving. We were reduced to driving 20 mph for twenty miles which added another solid hour of driving. Something just did not feel right about the road that we were on, and it wasn't just the constant vibration of gravel underneath us. I looked at the map a little more extensively and discovered that Badlands NP is a park that you drive in and out of before you ever reach the "heart" of the park (which included our campground). The timing could not have been worse to discover that by just typing "Badlands National Park" into the destination portion of Google Maps (which is exactly what I did), takes you to the most obscure southern tip of the park that happened to be an extra 1.5 hours away from our real destination. Now we were reaching eleven hours of driving, losing sunlight, cell phone coverage, and low on gas. We chalked all of this up to learning an important #meadadventures tip: check where the navigation is taking you're in an area with actual gas stations, perfect cell phone coverage to correct your mistake, and you haven't already driven countless miles for nothing. We arrived just before sunset with (thankfully) a campsite already reserved and waiting on us. We set up the tent with what little sunlight we had left and walked to the lodge for dinner before they closed. This had been a very eventful driving day, and we were beyond ready to put it to rest.

Due to the fact that we had arrived with very little daylight the night before, we were ready to explore when we woke up. Since we were staying another night in the park, we were able to just wake up and go. We decided that we would lightly explore one side of park as we drove out of it to visit a tourist trap that I couldn't leave South Dakota without seeing...Wall Drug. The first overlook in the park that we stopped at made up for all of the negativity that I felt for Badlands NP from last night. The hills and their markings were so beautiful and mesmerizing. We followed worn skinny paths that went out on the very tips of the hills where we were surrounded by their grandeur. It was peacefully quiet with the new day's light hitting the hills perfectly and I could have stood there in awe for the whole day. As we moved on we stopped at other overlooks but the day took a more exciting turn when I noticed little prairie dogs in a field on my side of the car. Tommy slowed the car immediately upon hearing my squeals of excitement, and I jumped out before the car had fully stopped with camera in hand. I bet I looked like the biggest goofball as I went running back and forth on the side of the road going from hole to hole recording their little squeaky barks with my phone...and then I looked across the street to see Tommy doing the same thing (these are the moments that remind me just how perfect we are for each other) and didn't feel so silly. I quickly returned to earth when Tommy stumbled upon a sign saying to stay away from the prairie dogs due to plague-infected-fleas...cue the itching. We moved along quickly after that discovery and at the next stop we paused exploring to check our ankles and socks for fleas. My neurotic/paranoid mind had convinced me that I had gotten too close, was covered in fleas, and they were passing the plague to me as we sat there. After putting all of that aside as best as I could, we moved on to our next stop...Wall Drug and all of its touristy goodness.

My flea worries went completely out the window as soon as we arrived. I rode a giant Jackalope, shopped all of the kitschy little stores, and we drank the advertised five cent coffee. We continued the trip by eating brunch at the restaurant there (some of the best pancakes I've eaten) then made our way back to explore the other half of Badlands NP. During my "before trip research", I had read a lot about how cool the Notch Trail was, but I also read many reviews warning that it wasn't for people who were afraid of heights...like me. At brunch I chose to tell Tommy about the trail fully expecting that he would want to go. When I know that he really wants to do something, that makes it even more of a priority to complete and most of the time helps me to put all fears aside and experience it too. Just like I predicted, he wanted to go as soon as I described it to him, and we made that the first trail we hiked. In addition to reading the sign at the trailhead, there was another giant sign warning of rattle snakes...as if I needed anything else to make me more nervous. However, knowing I would live with regret if I didn't go, I forged on (but I did jump at anything that moved). Things were going fine until we reached the trail's infamous ladder. I went first so Tommy could video someone going up for scale and even though I was going slow, it really wasn't so bad. Until I reached the part of the ladder that wasn't using any of the hill as support and was only attached by a cable to the top...I stopped dead in my tracks clinging to the beam I was on and turned to Tommy for help. He assured me I would be fine and that I didn't have to go any further, but not wanting to be a quitter I took a deep breath and continued to climb. A few "warning: dangerous, deadly cliff" signs later, we reached the view at the end of the trail and I was really grateful that I faced my fears. After making it back to the car, we went on a few more little trails before we headed back to the lodge for dinner. After dinner we posted up at an overlook to watch the sunset. (My recommended times to really see the definition of the markings in the hills are sunrise and sunset.) We were able to get a few good pictures before clouds blew in to cover the then setting sun.

 As we were getting ready for bed we discovered that those clouds were actually the start of a storm beginning to roll in. I went to bed making Tommy promise that we will stay in the tent until we see lightening and then it's to the car we go. (I don't mind sleeping in the rain and wind, but I draw the line at being a Benjamin Franklin experiment.) The rain came...then the wind...and that was all I remember before I fell asleep....

I had been asleep for what felt like an hour before my sleep was disturbed by the brightest lightning strike, fierce winds, and loud thunder. Being half asleep and absolutely terrified, I grabbed my shoes and shuffled Tommy out of that tent as fast as I could move (I can now laugh at how ridiculous I probably appeared). Let's just say Tommy wasn't the happiest he's ever been with me in that moment. We were in an open prairie so we could see the lightening from miles away making it look like a camera flash was going off every second, and some were so close that it actually hurt my eyes they were so bright. Needless to say, I was confident in my decision to retreat to the car. As we sat there in silence watching the storm, we noticed that the strong winds had began taking other tents around us as it's victims. In that moment I felt guilty for leaving our little orange home (which is more like out child) out in that mess, and feared for it's safety. Another bright flash of lightening hit and I saw that our tent looked caved in like the many around us and Tommy jumped out of the car to look. Between the flashes of lightening and the light from his headlamp, I thought the worst and began to write the eulogy for our little tent...."Our little orange home was not just a tent, it was a member of our family. When we lost it that night, we lost a piece of our hearts....." Noticing that Tommy was struggling to take it down by himself, I strapped on my headlamp and rushed out to help. We had put that tent up and taken it down so many times that we worked methodically together and had it in the car in mere minutes. When were back in the car Tommy revealed that the only thing that we had lost was a Velcro strap that held the rain-fly to the tent poles and that was why it looked broken...thank goodness! With the peace of knowing we had a home for the rest of the trip, we reclined back and tried to finally get some sleep.