Theodore Roosevelt National Park

After yesterday's drive-through introduction to Theodore Roosevelt National Park, today was my full day exploring it properly.

I woke up early at my little wilderness campsite and went through what has quickly become my morning routine: coffee, a protein shake, packing a day bag, organizing supplies, and preparing for whatever adventure the day had in store.

Getting out of camp in daylight was much easier than arriving the night before. Looking back, I definitely won't be staying there again if rain is in the forecast. The dirt road was already rough and muddy in dry conditions. By the time I reached pavement, my wheel wells were completely caked in mud, and I had to stop and clean off the front sensors because the van was convinced the radar system had stopped working.

Once I got into the park, I spent some time driving the scenic loop in the early morning light before stopping at the visitor center to look at hiking options.

My original plan was to hike out to the Petrified Forest. Unfortunately, reality intervened. The trail is nearly 11 miles long, rated difficult, and requires a level of fitness that I may or may not have possessed at some point before spending the last two months relaxing, eating well, and enjoying time with family. After a brief moment of optimism followed by a longer moment of honesty, I decided to choose a different trail: the 5.5-mile Big Plateau Trail.

That turned out to be the correct decision.

Less than half a mile into the hike, I found myself standing at a river crossing where a group of women and one other hiker were. Everyone was gathered at the bank debating how best to cross. The other hiker said someone had already made it through and that the water wasn't any higher than knee-deep.

Good enough for me.

I sat down, removed my shoes, socks, and pants, and confidently waded across in my boxers.

The crossing itself wasn't terrible. The mud on the other side was another story entirely.

While cleaning my feet afterward, I discovered that my fellow hikers had come almost completely unprepared for the crossing. They had water bottles and determination, but not much else. So I was able to share some supplies, help them clean up their feet afterward, and pass around some homemade tick spray. For a brief moment, I became the trail's discount version of a knight in shining armor.

The hike itself was absolutely beautiful.

It was also exhausting.

There were steep climbs, uneven terrain, multiple water crossings each one muckier than the last, and long stretches completely exposed to the sun. Much of the trail wound through rugged badlands formations, open prairie, and rocky hillsides with incredible views in every direction.

There was one moment during the hike that perfectly captured the difference between people who hike occasionally and people who apparently evolved in the mountains.

After one particularly brutal climb up a steep rock face, I reached a shaded area near the top and decided it was a good time to stop for a minute. Not because I wanted to. Because my lungs had filed a formal complaint.

So there I am, leaning on my trekking poles, questioning my life choices and pretending I'm just "taking in the scenery," when I hear someone call out, "On your right."

A shirtless guy comes jogging past me.

Barefoot.

Uphill.

At a pace that suggested he wasn't even remotely inconvenienced by gravity.

Meanwhile, I'm standing there trying not to die.

The only thought that entered my mind was: this mofo is a goat.

And I mean that in both senses of the word.

Anybody who can run barefoot up the side of a mountain is simultaneously a mountain goat and the Greatest Of All Time.

By the end, I was hot, tired, and fairly certain I had picked up at least a little sunburn despite starting early in the day. I honestly don't know how people hike here in August. It was only June and I felt like I was being slowly roasted.

After finishing the trail, I spent some time driving around the park again to cool down and think about my next move. I debated driving out to the Petrified Forest trailhead just to see it, or continuing on toward my next destination.

Then the rain started.

At that point, I decided today had already delivered everything it needed to.

My back had also been bothering me a bit, which I suspect can be blamed on a twisting machine at the gym yesterday that may have won our disagreement. So instead of squeezing in one more adventure, I decided to have an early evening.

I found a place to get cleaned up, relaxed for a while, worked on repairing the screen in the van, read a bit of my book, and listened to the rain.

For tonight, I found a beautiful little spot on top of a hill near a small cemetery. It's peaceful, quiet, and has a great view of the surrounding countryside. A family of wild turkeys has apparently decided to make camp nearby as well, which has added some unexpected neighbors to the evening. Hopefully they can ward off the ghosts.

I considered returning to last night's campsite, but with the rain moving in and the road already sketchy in dry conditions, getting stuck seemed like an unnecessary way to add excitement to the trip.

So instead, I'm ending the day with a cool breeze, distant thunder, a sunset over the hills, and the kind of quiet that only seems to exist out here.

Not a bad way to finish an exhausting day in Theodore Roosevelt National Park.Read more