“See how nature–trees, flowers, grass–grows in silence; see the stars, the moon, the sun, how they move in silence.” -Mother Teresa

The morning after Elephant Rocks, I was pretty sweaty from the night before still, but found a beautiful river to wash off in during the morning drive.

Next stop: Jefferson City, Missouri. Home of the state capital, but also home of a Peace Corps friend, Devin. Devin was at work, but this lovely wife, Ankeeta, let me in and showed me around the town. We visited Central Dairy for ice cream on this extremely hot day, then walked around inside the Capital Building, I couldn’t believe that you could just walk in and explore the place without any security checks! We even ventured into the massive meeting room and I got to hold the official gavel (the size of a sledge hammer!). I doubt we were supposed to be in there, so we didn’t stay long. Devin arrived home in the evening and we helped Ankeeta fold Nepali dumplings, mo-mo, before feasting on the delicious dinner and playing board games into the night. Not a lot happens in Jefferson City, so after visiting a small music festival, we decided to two hours into St. Louis, Missouri to meet Ankeeta’s sister, cousin, and brother-in-law.

There was much to do in St. Louis, and we did it all! First, Pappy’s Smokehouse, where we ordered the biggest thing on the menu (The “Atom Bomb”, named after Adam Richmond from Man Vs. Food). The BBQ was sensational.

Second, was the free zoo at Forest Park. Third, we ventured 630 feet up to the top of the famous St. Louis Arch.

Fourth, we walked past Busch Stadium (home to baseball’s St. Louis Cardinals).

Fifth, we took a tour of the Anheuser Busch brewery. Sixth, we visited City Museum to play on the imaginative jungle-gym structures build in an old shoe factory.

Seventh, we ate Imo’s Pizza (I wouldn’t recommend it!), toasted ravioli, and even “gooey-butter cookies”. The time spent with this group was worth the trip along!

Nebraska has the stereotype of being nothing but corn fields and while there were plenty of crops, it has beautiful open spaces and sensational rock formations among other attractions. The first of the cool rock formations were Jail and Courthouse, two sandstone behemoths all by themselves. I had them all to myself to climb around on and play to my hearts content.

Second formation was Chimney Rock, a very slender spire and landmark for early Westward settlers. A local named Joe told me where to find an old settlers graveyard and a trail leading out to the spire to climb up to it.

The third formation I visited was Scottsbluff, but on the drive there the emergency broadcast system came on the radio and warned about a storm with ping-pong ball sized hail and 80+ mph wind gusts. I found a bowling alley, which appeared to be closed, and parked right under their entrance awning to wait out the storm. luckily it was just rain, lightning, and wind where I was, but I heard later that a tractor-trailer was blown over on the highway and the highest recorded wind gust game in at 103 mph!.

By the time the storm blew out, the gates at Scottsbluff was about to close, but the ranger offered to drive me to the top when she closed up and I could walk back to my car after the sunset. Sensational colors and scenery from this outlook and the generosity of the rangers made for a wonderful evening.

Heading out of Nebraska, I stopped at a near area dubbed “Carhenge”, where a local had replicated Stonehenge using old vehicles!

From Nebraska, I crossed into South Dakota, to an area I’ve long fantasized about visiting, The Badlands. Just as epic as I always hoped, a place you really must come visit, seriously, don’t miss it. For starters, the entire park has an open hiking and camping policy, meaning you can literally walk or camp anywhere in the entire park that you’d like to, anytime of day, all over the formations, you name it! That’s the way nature is supposed to be.

I took the scenic drive through the park, passing endless prarie dogs standing at attention and full of chatter.

Towards the end, I came across the park’s heard of buffalo. I pulled into a nearby overlook to observe them for a bit and within a few minutes, the pack had moved in my direction and my van became part of the heard. The large males were about the size of my van, and probably weighed about the same, if not more. One male in particular was very vocal, grunting and snorting around to make sure everyone knew who was boss. They gave me inquisitive looks, got about 10 feet away, but never seemed bothered with me so I didn’t even have to put the windows up, really got to take in their musk!

I stayed there for about two hours enjoying the sights, sounds, and smells before continuing on to a camping area for another wonderful sunset from the highest bluff in sight.

On my second day in the Badlands I drove down a four mile dirt road into the only point of access for the Southern Unit of the Badlands, to the top of Sheep Mountain.

It seems as though no one ventures down into this area, I had 1000’s of acres to explore all to myself. I spent hours walking around the top of the table land, then ventured down to the bottom for a different perspective and followed a small stream up into one of the valleys. Every single eroded edge begged me to climb out on it where I was rewarded with views beyond comprehension, the entire landscape was like a drippy sandcastle. I returned to the top of the table for Sunset and proceeded to spend 30 minutes picking all of the seeds and briers out of my socks from the off-trail travel.

I was all to myself all day, then a man named Greg, age 49, pulled up on a motorcycle. Not just any motorcycle, but the same BMW GS that my father rides. He mentioned that he tipped his motorcycle for the first time in a sandy patch at the bottom of the mountain where there was some fresh road build and he was concerned about getting back out. He was camping out up here as well and we chatted for long hours through the sunset and watched the stars come out until after 11:00 pm.

Greg and I both woke up a little after 7:00 am when the first rain drops came down. He was quickly packing up camp, knowing that if the sandy section was a problem when it was dry, it would be more challenging when wet. The rain picked up quickly, so Greg make his final preparations from inside my van. We exchanged contact info and I offered to follow him down in case he had any problems. Greg moved a little faster than I did and beat me down the mountain, but when I turned the corner, there he was standing in the road with his motorcycle laying on it’s side in the dirt. I helped him get it upright, but he didn’t have confidence in continuing on and was hoping to wait out the storm for better odds. The sky didn’t show any signs of letting up, but I obliged to wait it out with him and give him a dry place to sit, I couldn’t help thinking of my father and hoping that if he was ever in the same situation, that someone would do the same for him. We’re in the scorching Badlands after all, how much rain can they get?!?

Well, after two hours of not letting up, Greg mentioned that we should try and get out in my van and he would treat us to food and a motel and he could get a ride back to the bike when things were dry. We slid about 200 yards down the road before my van couldn’t go another inch, we had waited too long and the fresh dirt/sand had turned into a super sticky, thick, slimy mess which coated everything it touched and provided zero traction.

So we sat, we talked and talked and talked, Greg enjoyed sharing stories about his past. Greg has recently been practicing Buddhism, so after about six hours in the car he mentioned that he might meditate if I wanted to join him. Off we sent on our meditation journey, he did a great job of guiding and I actually had some neat sensations of numbness after remaining motionless and thoughtless for 30 minutes. As we drifted deeper and deeper…KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK…”Are you guys OK?” A man about my age, Brad, was standing at my window in the rain, he had normal clothes on underneaths, but on the outside he was wrapped in a bed sheet (Greg would later jokingly refer to him as the caped crusader). He was parked some 400 yards down the road, on the other side of the sandy section after his car couldn’t make it any further towards Sheep Mountain. We all decided there wasn’t much he could do for us, so he explored for a bit before returning to his car and leaving. Back to waiting in the car, I wasn’t very concerned during any of this, I had a jug of 7 gallons of water but no food, yet Greg had two sacks of food but no water, together we could have held out for several days. Finally, around 5:00 pm, after some nine hours of waiting out the rain in the van, the conditions let up and the sun smiled upon us!

The sun and wind quickly went to work drying up the area and the parched landscape quickly soaked up the moisture. Greg and I walked around to scout out the road ahead of us, noting the firm and squishy sections, we unloaded the excess weight from Greg’s motorcycle, and we cooked soup in the middle of the road.

Cooking soup

After waiting as long as we could for conditions to improve, around 7:00 pm, we decided to give it our best shot. Greg went first with me running along at his side. Mud sprayed everywhere, he slid around, but we got through the muck to firmer ground.

Next, it was time for the van, she slid all over that road and I had to reverse out in a few tough sections, but thanks to the traction control, she clawed her way to dry land. I’m pretty sure this would have been the final resting place for the Hulk if it had made it this far! Greg and I were elated, but we still had two miles to the nearest paved road, so we remained cautiously optimistic. We his very little resistance on the way out, and the sun cast the most photographic light through the mountains to light our way to freedom. To celebrate, we drove an hour into Rapid City, South Dakota for a hotel room, hot shower, a midnight bowl of pasta and a slice of pie from Perkins Pancake House. We may have lost a day, but we found an adventure!

After that day of muddy adventures, the morning was spend organizing our gear, scrubbing mud out of the van, and taking it through the car wash…twice. Next stop was the Crazy Horse Mountain Memorial, where sculptors have been working for over 50 years to transform a granite mountain into a massive stature of this Native American hero. It’s still a long way from completion, but the scope of the project is astounding. To give you an idea of the scale, the entire sculpture of Mount Rushmore is the same size as Crazy Horse’s head! Two young woman did a demonstration of traditional hoop dancing, a fantastic display of characters and imagination. It’s saddening to travel this area and follow the plight of the American Indians as settlers pushed them off their lands, slaughtered them, broke their treaties and promises and forced them into reservations.

After Crazy Horse, I ventured to nearby Mount Rushmore, which I assume you all know what is there! The carvings were very impressive, but this area was very crowded. It was neat to see it in person and to learn about the men and methods who crafted this landmark.

I camped for a night in the Black Hills surrounding Mount Rushmore and spent a day hiking the Black Elk Wilderness for eight hours. The highlight was summiting Haney Mountain, at 7242 feet it is the highest point in South Dakota, the highest peak I have yet summitted under my own power, and according to the plaque, the highest point East of the Rockies and West of the Pyrenees! The granite tops of these peaks were surprisingly covered in ladybugs, more than I have ever seen in one place, a swarm even, nearly a plague! After the hike I found a huge lake to take a swim in and wash off the sweat before nightfall.

Heading North, I popped into the corner of Wyoming to see The Devil’s Tower! As I drove towards the area the night before, there was a huge lightning storm and high winds coming from the area, it felt like a fitting name for the monument! By morning the storm had cleared out and and immense column stood out on the horizon. A few rock climbers even make their way to the top!

From Devil’s Tower, the trip headed up to North Dakota to Theodore Roosevelt National Park. This was the 4th of July, but as I drove through 200 miles of open space without hardly a car or a building on either side, I had written off any chance of seeing fireworks for the night. The sun was beginning to set as I came to the entrance to the park and was astonished to pass through the little town of Medora. As I looked for a place to sleep for the night, I passed a parking lot overlooking the town and figured that if the town was going to shoot fireworks, I could probably see them from here. Soon enough, i was joined by lots of other cars and the locals said it was the best place to view them! I chatted with a very nice couple from Wisconsin as we watched locals shoot fireworks and light small floating lanterns which soared down the valley. The final even began around 10:30 pm and it rocked! The grand finale drove the performance home with several dozen concussion rockets. They even lit the hillside on fire, but the locals said it happens every year and they even had fire trucks set up above and below the hill in preparation. Another amazing night of the journey, and an Independence Day I won’t soon forget!