Black hills and Wind cave national park

Today was one of those days that felt full in all the right ways.

Last night I slept in a secluded spot in the Black Hills National Forest. Before bed I may or may not have strapped a large camping knife to my hip after hearing mysterious noises outside the van. Was it necessary? Probably not. Did it make me feel better? Absolutely.

Fortunately, the only thing that ended up attacking me overnight was my imagination.

I got an early start and spent the day finishing everything I wanted to see around the Black Hills area: Cathedral Spires, Needle's Eye, Sylvan Lake, Wind Cave National Park, Cascade Falls, and quite a bit of driving through Custer State Park and the Black Hills National Forest.

As I was driving this morning, I spotted two deer. That's actually the only wildlife I've seen around here so far, but it immediately made me think of Grandpa Joe and put me right back in the mindset of being 13 years old, riding around back roads with him.

I never fully understood why he loved it so much. That was his way to relax. He'd take these long, slow drives looking for deer, asparagus, berries, or whatever else happened to be out there. Sometimes he'd drag me along. Sometimes I'd eagerly go. Either way, he always found something.

I think I finally get it now.

Driving through these hills today, I could feel him with me. He would have absolutely loved this place.

Before Wind Cave, I stopped at Cathedral Spires where I met a really nice man from Ohio and a woman who had lived in both Ohio and Minnesota. They didn't know each other before today, but somehow the three of us ended up chatting in the middle of South Dakota. It's always funny meeting people from roughly the same part of the country when you're hundreds of miles from home.

After that came Needle's Eye.

The rock formations were beautiful.

The tunnel getting there was mildly terrifying.

I must have backed up ten times while trying to get through. Every time I thought traffic was clear, someone else would appear. Meanwhile the gentleman behind me seemed determined to attach his vehicle permanently to my rear bumper. You'd think after the third or fourth time I had to back up—and therefore he had to back up too—he might have figured out that leaving a little space would be helpful.

Nope.

But eventually I made it through, and it was worth it. The Needle's Eye itself was impressive, and a few of the surrounding rock formations looked... well... let's just say my sense of humor has not matured with age.

From there I headed to Sylvan Lake.

And honestly, I think they named it wrong.

It should be called something like Shimmering Shire or Glistening Glen because everything there sparkles.

The sunlight flashes off the water. The trails are scattered with crushed quartz. The stone benches glimmer. The rock formations shine.

Everything sparkles harder than a Kurdish wedding party.

It was beautiful.

Also slightly blinding.

After Sylvan Lake I made my way to Wind Cave National Park. On the drive through the park I came across a large herd of bison, which was really cool to see. Up until now I'd mostly seen one or two at a time, so seeing an entire herd together was something special.

Unfortunately, I wasn't able to actually go down into the cave. The online reservation system wasn't working when I checked beforehand, and by the time I arrived there had been exactly one unsold ticket left for the entire day.

It was for the 11:00 tour.

Which had departed ten minutes earlier.

So that was unfortunate.

The park itself was still worth visiting, though. The visitor center has a really interesting exhibit, and I walked over to the natural entrance of the cave. The wind coming out of that opening is incredible. It feels like somebody mounted a giant air conditioner underground and pointed it directly at your face. Around the entrance were ties and offerings left by Native American tribes who consider the area sacred, which added another layer of significance to the experience.

After Wind Cave I was supposed to head directly toward Badlands National Park.

Instead, my brain saw signs for Hot Springs and immediately went:

"Ooh. What's that?"

And just like that, the itinerary was no longer in charge.

I spent the next several hours unsuccessfully hunting for what I thought were actual hot springs. To this day I'm still not entirely sure whether all those signs were referring to the town of Hot Springs or some magical natural spring that I simply failed to locate.

What I did find was the town itself.

It's a really charming place. Walking around there felt a little bit like stepping backward in time. It was cute, quiet, and full of character. At one point I found myself wondering why so many movies get filmed in places back home when towns like this exist.

Still determined to find an actual hot spring, I kept exploring.

What I eventually found was Cascade Falls.

There wasn't a hot spring.

But honestly, I wasn't even mad about it.

The falls are more of a series of small cascades and natural pools than a traditional waterfall, but the place was beautiful. I climbed around, explored as much as I safely could, and eventually just stretched out in the cool running water and soaked up the sun.

Of course, I also managed to injure my toe.

Because while I own a perfectly good pair of water shoes, I apparently decided that wearing them in the water would make far too much sense.

Stupid decisions produce predictable results.

Fortunately, nothing serious.

After Cascade Falls I looked up directions to Badlands National Park and realized I'd be passing within about fifteen minutes of the same Planet Fitness I'd visited before. Even though I felt pretty clean after spending the afternoon in waterfalls, I decided a proper shower and workout wouldn't hurt.

So tonight's post is being written from a Planet Fitness parking lot.

In a few minutes I'll grab a soda water, point the van toward Badlands National Park, and find somewhere to sleep nearby. I'd rather get situated tonight and be ready for an early start tomorrow than spend the evening hanging around town.

The Black Hills were every bit as beautiful as I'd hoped they'd be.

And somewhere between the deer, the back roads, and the endless wandering, I think Grandpa Joe was right all along.

Sometimes the point isn't what you find.

It's just going looking.Read more