August 24 The Badlands

I’m excited — we’re really out West now! I expected to see John Wayne ride over the hill any minute.

We realized that we had many pictures of the Forester at the campsites, but none out on the road. Obviously, that’s because we’re usually in the front seat while it’s rolling. So, we pulled over in Badlands National Park and I, Rob, walked out into the grassland to get the a photo of the rig on the road. Jane took the above photo of me going out to get the photo of the rig. While I was hurrying out to get the the photo, my leg suddenly disappeared down a hole two feet deep. I assume it was a prairie dog hole. I was OK, and, fortunately, got my leg back without a rattler attached. Another incident in the disaster avoided category. And another time that made me think later, “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Our camera was busy. We are including a few of the many photos. I kept trying to capture an experience that is not possible to capture. I love the openness out here. And the landscape is so different than what we Easterners experience. Some of the scenes look like it could be on the moon. The old saying, “a picture is worth a thousand words,” is so true, isn’t it?

  

 

 

Jane is overlooking Bigfoot Pass, the trail where Big Foot made his way to Broken Knee Creek in 1890 five days before his death. The road curves over the ridge from here and drops down to a flat pass through the hills about 2,000 yard from this spot. Only one other person came out to this point while we ate sandwiches there. An interpretive sign stated that the trail below was the trail used by Big Foot and his group. The lady looked down at a wildlife trail or wash about 200 feet below the cliff and said, “So, was that the trail that Big Foot used?” I said, “No, it would be that one there in the distance with asphalt on it.” She gave me a look that said something like, “That’s so stupid; the trail Big Foot walked on was not paved.”

In the “tell it like it is” category:
We wanted to eat at the lodge in the park. Our vision of the lodge was something like the Old Faithful Inn in Yellowstone. Instead, the Badlands Cedar Pass “Lodge” is a one-story concrete block building that includes some exhibits, a theater, bookstore and a cafe. At the cafe, we ordered a steak to split between the two of us. I (Rob) wasn’t going to complain about the poor food quality, but when checking out, the person at the register asked, “How was your food?.” I just answered honestly. I said, “Well, from the smell of the baked potato, I could tell it was cooked a long time ago and I didn’t touch it. The steak was digestible.” He immediately whirled around and howled with laughter. He said, “Oh, you’ve just made my day!” He was so surprised when someone answered frankly. He was a college student working in the park for the summer; it didn’t affect him one way or the other how the food was. He was tickled to have the everyday boredom broken up by the unexpected.

Of course we didn’t go to the Badlands for a restaurant. We loved the Badlands National Park. I loved it when the park ranger said, “Here at the Badlands, unlike other national parks, you can go anywhere you want. You don’t have to stay on any marked trails.”  He did give the safety lecture about water, good shoes, and watching out for rattlesnakes. The Badlands lose one inch a year of soil to wind and water erosion, so there is no way we can do anything like that much damage by walking or climbing on anything, so have at it. At your own risk. I like the ring of freedom in that.