FTJ, Entry 117: In Les Mauvaises Terres

When we saw the Badlands, South Dakota, we immediately wondered if we were still on this planet. An unearthly, otherworldly place of stark and savage beauty and fearsome, arid ruggedness.

The Lakota originally called this area Paha ska (white mountains). But in the mid 1700s,  French explorers/trappers, frustrated with the sharp peaks and crumbling rocks, named it Les Mauvaises Terres, or "bad lands." Soon the Indians, too, began referring to it as the bad lands -- Mako sica (land bad). 

Not so us. Formed millions of years ago, some say the Badlands is a masterpiece of wind and water sculpture. We would agree. Land amazing.

The Badlands were once part of a giant salt water sea. Volcanic eruptions and upheavals pushed the sea floor up. As the water drained, it left marshy plains behind. Then about 25 million years ago, prehistoric animals roamed the area. When they died, they decayed into the marsh and riverbeds. Those layers of decay, plus layers of white volcanic ash eventually resulted in the "striped" plateaus and peaks. And gave us tons of fossils.

244,000 acres of this type of landscape. Like being on the moon.

The peaks are constantly eroding, losing about an inch a year.

Another result of erosion -- scattered mushroom formations.

A lot of the park looks like someone's giant sand sculpture.
(Hey -- do you like Beau's new cowboy hat? I love it.)

When the light is just right, some of the formations remind you of multicolored mounds of sherbet.

Other parts are eerie carved gray escarpments, etched against the sky.

Near the Door Trail in the Badlands.

 

At the Window trail.

Critters Galore

On one observation path I almost fell off the boardwalk when a little rabbit jumped right alongside me. He/she then froze, in typical bunny fashion.  

He was right next to me, as you can see.

And speaking of critters, when we drove on a gravel road off the major tour roads in the park, we saw bighorn sheep (all females) and a very large prairie dog town. Soooo cute.

The prairie dogs are very nonchalant about cars and people. They come right up to the car.

When alarmed, the prairie dogs "bark." We could hear them yipping all over the place.

 

Walled In

Wall Drug was up the road about a half hour or so, and we were curious to see it. Having not heard of Wall Drug before, then suddenly seeing nothing (and I mean nothing) else along the highway except for road signs advertising it, we spent a day there. Come to find out, it is a pretty famous place.

In a nutshell, here is the story of Wall Drug: In 1931 a pharmacist named Ted Hustead and his wife Dorothy bought a tiny drug store in the tiny town of Wall, South Dakota, basically in the middle of nowhere. (It still is in the middle of nowhere.) Why they bought it is a long story, but it had to do with there being a Catholic church in town and the fact that the people seemed kind and friendly. The store barely survived the first few years, and only took off when Dorothy had the idea of putting up a series of signs along the highway advertising free ice water -- which for people traveling the godforsaken route through the Badlands, must have sounded mighty appealing. Like finding an oasis in the desert.

Today,  there are still scores of signs advertising Wall Drug as you drive toward the park. There is nothing else. No towns, no buildings -- just these signs. A few examples:

 

Wall Drug is a very large, strange retail complex. Hard to describe the place. I guess it approximates what the result would be if Stew Leonard's (Norwalk, CT) and Pedro's South of the Border had a child. Wacky, tacky, kitschy, busy, strange.

 

 

Finally, just have to talk very briefly about the town we were staying in: Interior. 

There was nothing -- and I mean zilch --  there except for our campground, a gas station, some deteriorating homes and trailers, a tiny grocery, and one scary looking bar.

We saw maybe four of these 67 people roaming the area.

Note the sign on the porch. At least they're honest about it.

This sign on the way out of the Badlands KOA made me chuckle.

Wish I had taken this photo. It was on the side of the Wall Drug building.

We are at the tail end of our big tour, sad to say. We crossed the Mississippi just the other day, saying goodbye to the West. Depressing. But we will be back soon, if at all possible.

We zoomed through the rest of South Dakota, whipped through Minnesota, stayed a few days in Wisconsin, and then headed for the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. All I can say about that place is, "once is enough." A blog on that, and on Mackinaw City/Mackinac Island, to come.

Tanks, Panky