The Great American Drive - Day 3

Now things start to get interesting. Another marathon driving day, up at the crack of dawn, defrost the car on a crisp Minnesota morning and race down I-90 into South Dakota. Lots of great talk on the radio about Governor Ventura. Gotta love a governor who speaks his mind. The first major stop of the trip was Badlands National Park in western South Dakota. Of course Bruce Springsteen's “Badlands” is cranked on the radio (ok, the song has nothing to do with the park, but it's a great tune to drive to). The best way to describe the Badlands is walking on the surface of another planet. The only place I've ever been to that even comes close is Zabriskie Point in Death Valley, but that doesn't do this place justice.

Unfortunately I only had a few hours to drive the main road through the park, stopping at all the scenic overlooks. It would take weeks to explore all the trails and take in all the views, not to mention run through many rolls of film. The first buffalo of the trip were spotted and a great prairie dog town, such fun little creatures. By the time the sun started to dip below the Black Hills rising to the west I was in route to Mt. Rushmore. My original plan also included Devils Tower, but the hour was growing late and the mighty Tower would have to wait until tomorrow.

The sky was dark by the time I reached Mt. Rushmore, a quiet and eerie sight at this hour. While roaming the gift shop I learned of a large buffalo herd just south of the Black Hills in Custer State Park. I couldn't pass up the chance of seeing thousands of buffalo roaming the plains so I immediately headed south to look for a place to sleep. I quickly learned why this part of South Dakota is called the “Black Hills” while driving over Iron Mountain Road in total darkness. This has to be one of the most twisting roads on the planet, great if you're in a Porsche, not so great in a Bonneville. Not helping matters was my recounting of Joseph Campbell speaking about Black Elk and his description of the Indian spirits in these woods. I kept thinking something would jump out from behind the next tree.

The first hotel I came to was just inside the border of Custer State Park, the State Game Lodge. A great old wooden building, with small cabins and deer roaming the grounds. I settled into cabin 28 for the night.

---

“Stripped of your ordinary surroundings, your friends, your daily routines, your refrigerator full of food, your closet full of clothes - with all this taken away, you are forced into direct experience. Such direct experience inevitably makes you aware of who it is that is having the experience. That’s not always comfortable, but it is always invigorating.”

-- Michael Crichton