Juliacentralicious

South Dakota: Does Not Want Us

We hit SD fairly early (mid afternoon) and figured to make it to Sioux Falls (the Easternmost city) by the time we wanted to stop. We figured wrong—very wrong.
Only twenty miles in, our new radio friend KSKY ("Ever since Goat got a tattoo of Satan on his calf, his daughter still cries when she sees 'Daddy's Evil Leg.'") informed us of a tornado warning (if you're not from the midwest, a "watch" means "ignore us and continue with your lives," a "warning" means "get the fuck to a basement"). Since it was only twenty or so miles down the highway from us, we pull over to a DQ to let it blow over. In the parking lot, we meet a family who had been coming from the east and whose car had been attacked by baseball-sized hail only six or so miles away—the windshield was shattered through in one place, and the rest looked like they had pissed off an entire baseball team. Seems like stopping when we did was a good idea.
As our Blizzards disappeared, the storm did not. Fortunately, one of my dad's good friends, David, lives only twenty miles away—behind us. However, with night drawing nigh and the storm still raging, we couldn't turn down free lodging, and after getting lost in the small town of Spearfish, David came to fetch us. Him and his wife Shelly are fantastically nice, gave us beers, and chatted with us before escorting us to the nearby hotel (their house is being renovated, and rather than let us sleep on the floor or couches, they actually paid to put us up in the hotel—provided I didn't tell my dad, which would set off a veritable war of polite retaliation—shh!)[If you're reading this, Mom, don't tell Dad. But I believe in journalistic responsibility to the truth]. I had a positively surreal experience with the familiar nostalgia of our first Perkins stop (Perkins was my Sharis before Sharis was my Sharis). The next morning, we met them for coffee and breakfast and then went merrily on our way.

Surprisingly, South Dakota is actually one of the more interesting states. We made it to Wall (home of the famous Wall Drug—the mother of all tourist traps), where we wasted an appropriate amount of time with stupid photo ops and browsing the endless gift shop. From there, we decided to plunge into the Badlands (after missing the first turn for it, which meant that when we finally did drive them, we went backwards yet again).
The Badlands are perhaps one of my favorite places (other than Wyoming, of course). This was the place, years ago, where I first decided that I was actually the reincarnation of a mountain goat. While I happened to be wearing flip flops this time (and jeans, and no hat—really, a spur-of-the-moment trip to the Badlands is a bad idea), there was significantly less cavorting on the ridges, it was still fun. There are some gorgeous spots there—one path leads through a sort of cedar-filled glen, and the views are always spectacular. I even found a rock peak so high and narrow that even I felt a bit mortal. It was quite refreshing to stand so surrounded by nothing. And—we even saw a herd of goats.

That night we made it to Sioux Falls—and if my memory serves correctly, it was supremely boring.

posted by Julia @ 6:29 PM