South Dakota, Part II

While the girls are engrossed in episodes of Lion Guard or the latest downloadable Disney movie travel days, Alex and I are mostly content to sit in the quiet and watch the changing scenery. It helps that we have only driven 3 or so hours at a time, so we have yet to get bored of the sights. But also, we have been in a consistent pattern where we start the trip in one landscape and finish in an altogether different one - the North Shore to the South Shore, the lakes of Wisconsin to the Minnesota prairie, the Badlands to the Black Hills. Taking time during the slow journey to reflect, sometimes in total silence, and debrief, has helped us to remember that this is it - we are in it! This is the big trip we planned for and changed our life to do; we should enjoy the view and embrace the journey without looking too far ahead.

The Black Hills absolutely stun the unfamiliar with their rough and jagged beauty. The hills, while indeed dark and mysterious from a distance, offer so much life and variety as you traverse their curves.

Our campground in the Black Hills would not win any awards for first impressions. The dear, harmless Gary met us outside his house/office and guided us to our site. Let’s just say it (the drive in, the grounds, checking in, Gary’s lack of a shirt, etc.) left something to be desired.

But then, then we rolled backwards over sand and patchy rocks onto our landing pad for the next 6 days. What a view we had. Gary, as it turns out, inherited around 50 acres of valley bottomland from an unrelated “old hermit.” To say we were lucky to find this site is an understatement. The land backs up to Crazy Horse memorial and boasts miles of trails, a lake and stream, and remarkable views from all around. First impressions be damned. Gary and his campground were fantastic.

Our first morning in the Black Hills marked my 34th birthday. I took off early for a run on a nearby bike trail and captured a gorgeous sunrise through the trees. We then hiked around the campground trails as a family, urgently searching for the promised view of Crazy Horse in the meadow. We saw just a peek of the monument through the trees, and only because we were so desperately searching. When I returned on a run later in the week and took a slightly different path, Crazy Horse jumped out at me – an unavoidable sight in the not-so-distant sky. It’s amazing how a small change in perspective can provide a monumental shift in view. (See what I did there?)

We rounded out my birthday with a trip to an adventure park where Elsie and I conquered a ropes course and zip lines. I was so impressed by how brave she was! She has come so far in just a few years - from tears streaming as she reluctantly stood on the soccer field to climbing in the trees, attached to a wire by a clip she only just learned how to lock in. I had a major proud mama moment, enough to make it a perfect birthday right then and there. Well, that and her singing “Happy Birthday” the minute she walked out of her room in the morning, with a full grin and a confident recollection of the day. I couldn’t help but shed a tear.

The scenery of the Black Hills was not the only thing that made this stop special – Alex’s family was visiting for the better part of the week and the girls and I got to join them on many excursions (Alex had to stay behind to work, a dynamic that is probably worth a post sometime in the future). First, we went to Reptile Gardens and Bear Country – tourist must-sees that did not disappoint. I can confidently say that the girls’ favorite that day was the snake show at Reptile Gardens. And as strange as it was to see all sorts of wild animals up close through your car windows at Bear Country (bear, elk, wolves, reindeer), it became even more strange when we learned later that neither bears nor elk nor reindeer call the Black Hills home. Huh.

The next day we took a jeep tour through Custer State Park in search of wildlife. We were once again spitting distance from a bison (don’t you dare say buffalo around this family now, especially not Audrey, who will correct you instantly) as it wandered along the side of the road uncomfortably close to my window. This time, however, we learned that bison cannot see in front of them and must move their head from side to side when they walk to avoid running directly into something. They are more confused than angry when a car is beside them and while they can smell us and hear us, they can only see a big, blurry blob. We were warned, however, to NOT get out of our vehicle. That’s when a bison can and will charge at you. Duly noted.

In true Audrey fashion, she managed to fall asleep in my arms while on the bumpiest jeep ride of her life, while still holding on strong at a total of 1 other car nap during our travels so far. Classic.

From the middle of Custer State Park we took Needles Highway – also a must see – and climbed into the mountains in search of tall, pointy rocks and narrow tunnels. It was a thrill to be a back seat passenger (in a 10-passenger van, no less) and audibly delight in the enormity of the rock formations jutting into the sky all around. Unsure whether Alex would be able to see the needles later on, I attempted to video the best parts of the drive for him, but this was one time when you just had to be there.

Near the end of Needles sits Sylvan Lake - a fresh, picturesque reward for the sweaty-palmed driving of the last hour. We hiked around the perimeter of the lake, a lovely and scenic mile or so loop that took us to all angles of the lake and the top of the rocks. Some of us ended the hike with a chilly swim. I encouraged my girls to jump in so I could count it as a “good enough” bath for the week(ish).

As if that was not enough excitement for one day, we fortunately got to go on a hayride and eat outside as part of a “chuck wagon” to end the day. This was one tourist experience I would not want to do without. The first mention of the “chuck wagon” back when the Kopplin’s were making plans in March left us curious but skeptical. But everything, from the cowboy hat hand-outs and the guitar sing-along to the post-dinner chicken dance circle, was refreshingly authentic, unpretentious, and grounding in a way I didn’t know I needed. In case I didn’t say it enough, thank you to Bob and Connie for planning and shepherding a truly great day.

Next came Wind Cave National Park. The girls and I had a day to kill just the four of us and I felt ambitious and eager to get them another stamp in their National Parks Passports. What else are those little books for than to satisfy the desire of overachiever parents to check all the boxes?

Wind Cave is aptly named. It is a huge underground cave that was discovered when a gust of wind blew up through a hole in the ground. Its surface is covered by hundreds of acres of prairie, but so as not to compete with its wildlife-rich neighbor, Custer State Park, Wind Cave is mostly about the cave.

I’m not really a huge fan of being underground, feeling surrounded, or being trapped in places of which I don’t know how to get out. So, yes, Wind Cave was mostly about the stamp. We had to wait a few hours before we could get a tour into the cave, so we wandered the park’s windy roads, had a sweaty picnic, and watched the park service movie while we waited.

I must admit, the cave is impressive. It was discovered at random a long time ago (I have three small, curly-headed reasons why I do not remember many details), mapped by a 16-year-old with a lone candle, and new cave passageways are discovered to this day.

But what I will remember most about this particular adventure is carrying Audrey down the many wet and slippery steps and across uneven concrete as I ducked to avoid pointy crystals coming down from the ceiling (Alex quickly informed me they are called stalactites while I was writing this..). She fell asleep about 15 minutes into the hour-long tour and my biceps are still recovering. Maybe Elsie and Willa will remember the cave? Or maybe the best I can hope for is that the next time they tour a cave and the guide asks – “Has anyone ever been in a cave before?” they respond in the affirmative. And maybe, just maybe they will even remember the cave’s name.

Of course we had to see Mount Rushmore before we left the Black Hills. Could we really skip it? We actually saw it from the road several times as we drove to our other adventures. But we also visited the monument up close, got our stamp (of course), and tried to take the requisite family photo in front of the monument. It was a good reminder that not all photos will be good photos. ;)

Did you know that when it was being sculpted, some people thought Thomas Jefferson was Martha Washington because of his feminist features? And that there are sensors in the rocks that constantly monitor the surface condition and alert the rangers when a crack needs repairs? Fun facts.

On our last day in Custer, Alex got to drive Needles Highway, in his dually no less. After feeling mostly confident in our google search results that dually trucks can, in fact, fit through the tunnels, we once again ventured toward Sylvan Lake. We were met with a little hailstorm on the way. Having already endured a number of brief thunderstorms in the Black Hills (including one that hit so close to us the camper shook and left us wondering if we had actually been struck by lightning) we were not deterred. Apparently, towns in the Black Hills keep snowplows available year-round to be able to clear hail from the roadways.

We were so glad we made the drive, both for the scenery in the needles and the peeks of sunshine we had while at Sylvan Lake.

Last but not least, I have to mention the helicopter trip that Alex insisted he take with Elsie and Willa. We didn’t even inquire if Audrey (and therefore all of us) could also go. I got sweaty palms just thinking about being in a helicopter by choice with my most special people. I’m told it was a great time and they saw the same sights we saw on the ground, only much closer and higher up. (Can you tell I’m not into helicopters rides?) The pictures are pretty amazing, but I’m just glad they made it down safely.

Ok, as a final, final comment – we loved the Black Hills so much and Alex thinks we should move there. I just wonder, will he be saying this everywhere we go?