by Amy | Sep 11, 2014 | Blog, The Art of Adventure
I love parks. Especially national parks. Especially now more than ever. My favorite of favorite things is hiking deep into the back country, to experience wilderness and solitude and beauty that you just can’t access any where else. For now, I’m still sidelined from that. But that’s the beauty of parks.
As Teddy puts it: “…the edges of the wilderness lie close beside the beaten roads of present travel.” I find that especially true in the South Dakota Badlands, at Badlands National Park. You drive out into the prairie, miles and miles and miles. Then, suddenly it all comes to a stop, the grass and green falls away–and all that’s left is stone. You don’t have to trek out 20 miles to get there. It happens right beside the car window and all you have to do is squeeze the breaks and pull off.
Lots of people overlook the Dakotas, writing them off as a bit of a no man’s land. Which, I guess in a few ways, that is true. But that’s also kind of the charm, the beauty of this wilderness. And to Theodore Roosevelt, the Dakotas were the most inspiring place on earth.
There are only eight marked trails in Badlands National Park. Something that really sets it apart from its counterparts across the country. That’s because in the Badlands you can roam, horseback ride, or hike anywhere–unless marked otherwise. Just don’t lose your way.
Some of the trails that are marked are done very loosely. A couple walk along boardwalks over the rocky terrain to an over look. The others are mere suggestions of places to head. You move from one small marker to the next…until you find yourself at the final vista. There has been no cutting of stone or rolling out of asphalt. How you get there is true “choose your own adventure” experience.
It’s unlike any other place I’ve ever been. {Well, except the North Dakota Badlands at Theodore Roosevelt National Park…they’re comparable.} The only way I can describe it to you is to say that is it other worldly. The texture, color and sheer vastness of it all confuses your depth perception.
The sky is huge and vibrant over the monotone rock formations. We arrived to only a few cloud in the sky, but about an hour into our visit we could see big storms blowing up in the distance. It was incredible to be able to see the sky be so angry and fierce in one direction and so sunny in another. To see a wall of rain falling miles away, sweeping across the Badlands at the same time puffy clouds floated lazily somewhere else.
It’s a unique kind of wilderness. It make you feel like the foreigner, like you are standing on Mars, or inside a Star Wars movie. Or, like you are driving along the bottom of the ocean.
If you drive the Badlands Loop Road, you’ll get amazing views of this rugged creation–along with plenty of opportunities to get out of the car and take in the sights at overlooks and trail heads. Be sure to drive the whole road for the full effect, you’ll be glad you did.
If you visit:
Like I said, drive the Loop Road.
Know that the visitor’s center isn’t right inside the gate. You’ll have to drive a bit to get there. Be sure to take the map they offer you at the entrance gate. Pull off to overlooks, stop, and hike along the way to the visitor’s center–don’t plan to go there first then do the other stuff because you’ll only end up backtracking.
Stop at the visitor’s center and see paleontologists at work in the fossil lab. Real paleontologists. Cleaning real dinosaur bones. That they found in South Dakota. It’s seriously cool.
If you don’t hike anything else, at least check out the Door, Window or Notch trails. They are short and even a girl with a bad back can do one of the three.
Take water. It’s bone dry.
Bring binoculars.
Get dinner, lunch or breakfast at Wall Drug. It’s a roadside attraction to add to your road trip. You can miss it. There are a million signs. {Actually, we counted 56 from Rapid city to Wall…it’s a 45 mile drive.} The donuts are awesome, the coffee is cheap, and the souvenirs are plentiful.
by Amy | Oct 17, 2012 | Blog
Well, now I had done it. If I’d just manned up this I wouldn’t have made such a scene. Great, now the slow clap is starting. My knees are shaking…but you can’t just deny a slow clap.
We were at Hippie Hole in Rapid City, SD. This was last month and I still can’t stop thinking about it. It was terrifying and awesome all in one. Our sweet friend Megan took us to Hippie Hole {South Dakota’s favorite swimming hole} while we were visiting over Labor Day Weekend. It’s well off the beaten trail. A 20-minute off road drive off the trail to be exact. Then a 1/2 mile hike down into a canyon. But finally you arrive.
The day we went was perfect. Hot, sunny…the type of September day you take advantage of before summer runs out completely. Apparently we weren’t the only ones that thought a dip in the hole would feel good.
When we arrived there were about 30 others. Later I found out it was a group of the local college football players…no wonder they were all so beefy. Oh, and let’s not forget their pretty, college girlfriends. Whatever. I was there to swim.
But as I walked boldly up to the edge to take a peek before stripping down to my swim suit…I realized something. This is a hole. I felt like I was looking into some kind of abyss. “What the heck am I doing here?” I asked myself. I’d been psyched for this for days. But suddenly it didn’t seem like such a good idea. In fact, it seemed like a death trap.
My mind flashed back to last summer when Derek and I were at a water park. There was a deep pool with a “Cannon Ball” ledge 6 feet up. Fun, right? I got up there and froze. Little boys {and even a little girl} were complaining in line behind me. Finally a boy, probably 8, said, “Umm…can I go around you? I’ll be really fast.” Awkward. And it was happening all over again.
So I took my clothes off. One step closer to death.
Derek jumped in. I braced myself to be a widow at 25.
He was fine.
Now it was my turn. Megan took my camera and told me she’d snap a photo. I know Derek made it safe, I know all these other people had survived…but I was sure I would die. This seemed terrible. Heights are bad. There is a reason we have an instinct to fear heights. Heights kill people. This was high. And the only thing to break my fall was a pool of icy water.
Cold. Freezing cold water. Everyone admitted it was numbing cold. I hate the cold. {I hate it so much today when I came home from the gym I drank my brunch smoothie in the shower just to stay warm.} I wanted to stay put on those nice, warm, solid rocks.
But it was too late. Just like the Cannon Ball Ledge…I’d made a scene by hesitating. Now the football players and pretty girls were looking. It’s bad enough to cause a scene in front of lots of pretty people. It’s especially bad to do it practically naked. My abs and uteroll {that’s the pooch right under your belly button…a roll over your uterus…} can’t compete with Miss Hippie Hole USA with her Jillian Michael’s torso.
“Okay, on three.” Yeah, that’ll buy me time. Three seconds. Why do we do that? Give ourselves three seconds. I’m an idiot.
Needless to say, “three” came and went a couple times before the things escalated to the slow clap. And, as I said at the beginning…you can’t deny the slow clap.
While the clap was getting started Abercrombie Model #14 said, “You’re just psyching yourself out. Just do it. Jump to the left…you’ll miss the rocks.”
Miss the rocks?! The clap was getting faster. I had to make a move. So I did. I jumped. It was cold. So cold, it would have numbed any injuries I obtained on contact. But upon inspection underwater, as I pulled out my wedgie and triple checked to make sure my top was in place before surfacing…I found myself to be just fine.
And I’d do it all over again. But here’s what God showed me through this awesome and terribly awkward/scary experience:
- Sometimes the moments leading up to the unknown are uncomfortable…but if you power through you’ll find something exciting.
- Lots of people have faced the unexpected and survived. I will too. Even though it feels like I’ll die trying some days.
- Sometimes God will open up a path from here to there that is quicker than hiking all the way around. It may be scary to jump but you’ll end up in the right spot.
- Never underestimate the power of a cheering section. When you see someone frozen in fear in the face of the unknown…start a slow clap.
Amy
PS–you can see Derek in the photo above. He’s in the water on the left. The encouraging Abercrombie Model #14 is laying on the rock on the right.
by Amy | Sep 9, 2012 | Blog, The Art of Adventure, The Art of the Moment
Keeping with the blog theme here, let’s talk about the unexpected. Over Labor Day Derek and I got some tourist action in down in Rapid City, SD. Tonight I’d like to share some photography and thoughts from our time at the monuments.
I don’t think the four men featured in this monument would have ever expected to be immortalized in this over the top fashion. If you had told George or Tom that their face would be larger than life, carved in a mountain…I dare say they would not have believed you. These were men who did their job, who made their lives count. I don’t think any of them “saw it coming.” The impact their lives would have on our nation, the lasting affects their efforts would have on the generations to follow.
So often we can’t tell how our lives will ripple into the generations to follow. We cannot predict the circumstances that will come our way. We can only face the unexpected with a courageous heart, solid values, and a compassionate soul. Hoping to navigate in such a way that we live a life worthy of remembrance…even if we aren’t carved in a mountain.
Call me corny, but I’ve wanted to lay eyes on this rock for the better part of my life. I thought it would be simply breath taking. And it is.
If you’ve never seen it, don’t believe people when they tell you it’s hokey. It’s faces carved into a mountain. In case you didn’t know…hokey is not a synonym for awesome. This is awesome.
During our time in Rapid City we also went to the Crazy Horse Monument. {It’s where that awkward photo moment took place. } Like Rushmore, it’s a memorial sculpture in a mountain. Which is amazing because it is a project totally funded privately. Generations of family members have worked to preserve this land and move forward with the project. It’s been going since the 1940’s. Someday it will {hopefully} look like this scale model. You know how they “carve it”? Dynamite. Seriously, I’m not kidding. They are carving a person in a mountain with explosives. It blew my mind. {I love puns.}
Amy
by Amy | Sep 5, 2012 | Blog, The Art of Adventure, The Art of Faith, The Art of the Moment
Today reality hit me in the face. Back from vacation and a “do-list” a mile long. {I’m a big list maker in case you didn’t know.}
Reality.
Lists. Work. Editing. Emails. Phone calls.
Then I sat for a minute and saw this photo. I snapped this at Sylvan Lake at Custer State Park over the weekend. And suddenly, unexpectedly, I remembered that this is reality too. Both are real and wonderful in their own way.
I need to embrace both of them and appreciate the fact that both of these realities have been hand-crafted by God. My loving heavenly Father.
What reality has He crafted for you?
Amy
