To The Badlands!

20Aug

Frustration gripped me on the road back to Eagle Butte. It had been a very slow, draining day. Without the now routine bike ride, I don't think I ever truly woke up.

Once I had the bike in the car the frustration was shed. Ahead of me lay miles of prairie, which I would be able to cross in good time for once. The southwestern drive into dusk couldn't have been more relaxing. Although there may have been a few quanta of regret as I explored what would have been my bike route.

Three times I drove the stretch of route 63 today. The third time won the award for most awe inspiring. I had yet to experience sunset on the road here, seeing as one does not want to bike at night. Not a full sunset at least. The idea that I should have ridden a motorcycle, as so many had advised me to, made a lot of sense right then. Seemingly infinite sky - stretching to the almost perceptibly curved horizon - tastefully strewn with enormous fluffy clouds. Each cloud reacts differently to sunlight depending on this factor and that... I'm fairly sure I witnessed all possible combinations.

Heat lightning raged on within a storm system to the north, allowing me to check another cloud formation off today's list. While it never came closer, it never quite disappeared either. Dusk approached as the horizon slowly swallowed sun. The view ahead was still colorful, but growing more dull. Behind me lightning continued to flash erratically.

The large bend that preceded Cottonwood, population 12, turned me west. A hard right onto County Road 8 then sent me south into the nether. Though the prairie is generally desolate, the sense of solitude I felt on this dirt road was well beyond the prairie had offered. Driving through almost complete darkness. Thick fields of tall grass bordering the road, fading into the night. Lightning softly flickering in the rearview mirror like creepy hospital lights in a horror movie. I had to stop the car.

Once the lights on the stupid Focus with all its dumb automatic lights went off, I was treated to one of the most complete summer skies I have ever seen. No artificial light for miles to ruin the view, and ever after those miles there still really isn't too much around. So I stood there and stared for a few minutes, then moved on.

I drove into the Badlands in complete darkness. I hadn't been able to see anything more than a few feet from the road for a while at that point. Expecting to find a parking lot to sleep in, I creeped down the very freshly paved road. A couple minutes in I found a lot to my right, but my focus had shifted to what looked like giant melting anthills in front of me.

I found spot to pull over, got out of the car, and just stood there, staring at these giant silhouettes pressed up against the star filled sky. When the stupor broke I went back to the parking lot. Luckily there were a couple small trails, which I ended up wandering with and without headlamp until 2:00. It's a very strange place at night.

21Aug

Sleeping in the car was slightly better than expected, meaning I did manage to sleep for some amount of time. My best guess is three hours. The Badlands reinforced a major folly in my planning - an utter lack of suitable hammock trees on the prairie. But I've done worse than a car before. It wasn't terrible.

I was up before sunrise so I hiked in a little ways to get a better view. Until I got that view I really had no idea what I was dealing with. This place is downright strange. At this point I'm going to let some pictures do the talking. I can't think up any more flowery language tonight. I will say, though, that I spent half the day bewildered, staring at most things. It's not a safe place to drive.

The closing scene of this story involves me driving to the Rapid City Airport, eating lunch, putting the bike back together, and riding the bike into town. Then I slept very well seeing as I only got like three hours in that stupid car. Next step is Hill City, then onward to Nebraska.