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Published: July 30th 2009
Near Entrance of Badlands National Park
This deep canyon section contains a campground... Okay…here we go, got some Badlands action going on…I arrived at the park around 3 p.m. As my computer was dead, I was anxious to “splurge” on an electric site so that I could keep up with the ‘ol blog (I don’t want to feel anxious to post…so if I miss some days, it’s because I have no access to electricity). At the gate, I was informed that there were two campgrounds, one primitive, and one “non-primitive” with water service only (no electricity and just pit toilets). I choose the “non-primitive” one, and set off on a 12 mile drive on a gravel road to the camp. The Badlands, which are aptly named, by the by, are a series of hot, mild savanna-like places with large rolling “canyons” and places of exposed, bright-red, white, and brown layers of rock. It’s serene and full of buffalo, which roam freely through the park. Prairie dogs, which I learned “celebrate” both the dawn and the dusk by standing and “saluting” also live in large holes speckled throughout the dry and dusty park.
The camp, located west of the more dramatic “colorful
canyon walls” of the park’s entrance, is in a large valley floor. Much to my initial chagrin, an area about the size of 2 football fields is the location of all the campers, both Rvs and tents. This does, however, assure a spectacular, unobtrusive view of the surrounding hills. Buffalo wander the high edges, then drop into the valley. I put up the tent, read through the park literature, and set off for a short hike.
Before leaving the camping area, I walked past and chatted with a southern family (east Tennessee near the Smokeys). I had guessed Alabama, but had gone the wrong direction (I’m from Georgia, so I can always chat up the Southerners). An early 50s year old man, traveling with his chatty 7 year old son and his (possibly? I was never told) 75 year old mother (or mother in law). They were traveling in a 1976 box Rv with 100,000 miles on it. We chatted about the south, traveling in general, and how nice the park was. I set off, heading north, walked through a creek bed and hiked up to a high rounded peak, approx. ¾ of a mile away from the camp.
The view was great (and it was blazin’ hot). Off in the distance, I could see a raging thunderstorm, complete with the occasional spectacular lightning strike. In the time it took to adjust Jennifer’s small Nikon binoculars and view the storm for a few minutes, clouds rolled through, then as the clouds were leaving, the rain started. Rain does not bother me in the least, especially when it’s warm and raining (cold and rainy is a slightly different story). I strolled, without ever seeing anyone else during the 3 hour hike, up and down slopes and creek beds. The rocks were really interesting, each with a different intense color or texture. Following a strict “take only photographs; leave only footprint” policy, I left the interesting granite samples to the ages (not that they wouldn’t have aged well on my back porch, mind you.
Back in camp, I had an excellent meal of black beans and corn, again drizzled with hot sauce and parmesan cheese served over Trader Joe’s boil-in-bag rice. Yummers! I did all the dishes, and decided that I was going to try and chat up some other campers. There were at least 5 groups of family
Where the buffalo roam...
Taken from the car driving out of the park-- early morning. campers and 4 Rvs/trailer that were bad choices, but across the gravel road, there was a young couple wearing cowboy boots, shorts, and had a plant on their picnic table. After visiting the pit toilet (and commanding Sophie to stay at the site—she did—watching me walk the 50 yards to the site), I walked to their site and said, “Are you guys up for some company? I looked around, and you two seem to be the coolest two people here.” Their names are Allison and Adam, and they were returning to Milwaukee after being “permanently laid-off” from an archeogical project in Deadwood, S.D. How strange to have run into first my “former” southern neighbors, and now my “current neighbors.” Both vegetarians, they were preparing themselves a skillet with potatoes and Morningstar black bean burgers.
The conversation was interesting and engaging, with a beer-backed background, we chatted of their field (“We’re in the dirt, man”), Bronzeville (the African American/black community in which Jennifer and I reside), different camping experiences (Wisconsin, Yosemite) and places visited, etc. Allison commented, “Well, it’s sure easy to see that you’re a teacher, what with all the questions.”
Wood was gathered and a small fire
was built atop a cheap 12-inch grill from China. I stumbled back to the tent and fell into a deep sleep, not waking up once.
I slept right through the second day of having missed a buffalo walk right through the camp. Up early, probably at 6:30, I broke camp, leaving a note of thanks to Allison and Adam, and snapped close up photos of buffalo on my way out of the park. Heading back towards Wall, although not originally in my plans, was a necessity, as I was suffering from “Blog back-up.”
Back at Wall Drug, I splurged on the breakfast buffet, a somewhat tasteless but starchy breakfast staples—French toast sticks, potatoes cubes, and instant eggs. The meal costs 8.99, but is “all-you-can-eat.” Those who know me can attest to my masterful buffet skills. I need a place to tune in, plug up, and fill up. One interesting note: cups of coffee are only five cents; one just drops a nickel in the box and refills oneself. The early morning temp had not yet hit hot-as-hell, so Sophie was resting in car (complete with cracked windows and water). For the record, I checked on her three
Canyon shot...
Badlands National Park times.
I had monumental plans for the day…
(Hint: I’m coyly using the word “monumental” up there…so you got it—it’s for those who probably didn’t.)
Dave and Sophie
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Ben Banks
non-member comment
Buffalo dropping into the valley
Doesn't it get messy with all of the buffalo dropping off the ridges into the valley? Sounds gory.