BRAD DYE: Surreal experiences in the Black Hills
Published 11:00 am Wednesday, July 15, 2020
- Photo by Brad DyeI captured this photo of the mist over Pactola Lake in the Black Hills of South Dakota shortly after we left Mt. Rushmore headed to Deadwood. The mist seemed to follow us for several days which added to the surreal feel of the areas we visited in the Black HIlls.
“And if I had my way
I’d give a coconut to everyone”
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–“Coconut” Widespread Panic
If you have spent enough time in the outdoors, you have probably had experiences that were outside the realm of “normal.” Things that, at the time, couldn’t be explained and that, after time, still reside in the realm of the unusual. Having these experiences while with others is always helpful, at least you have someone to corroborate your story.
I once had several days worth of curious experiences during a cross-country road trip with my brother-in-law, nephew, and son in 2011. We were in the western half of our journey to Jackson, Wyoming, having left the “Gateway to the West” in our rearview mirror a couple of days earlier.
The surreal experiences began for me while hiking in Badlands National Park. Standing on top of the bluff at the end of the Notch Trail, gazing out across the prairie as the shadows of clouds danced across the grassland, I experienced a range of emotions. I felt small, awed by the landscape that stretched out before me. I also felt at home which seemed strange in such an alien terrain.
Later that night, we pulled into the parking lot of Mt. Rushmore just in time to catch the laser light show at this majestic venue. Our timing was perfect as on our return visit the next morning we found the mountain shrouded in a mist so thick it could not be seen. That mist seemed to travel with us over the next few days.
From Rushmore, we drove to Deadwood, South Dakota. As a side note, the music we listened to during that road trip became a soundtrack for me, like one from a favorite movie. The playlist of songs from that trip still serves as a source of creative inspiration for me.
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Along the way, we fueled our drive with Red Bull and beef jerky and thanks to an ample supply of toothpicks managed to arrive at each destination without looking as though we had bugs in our teeth. The cooler sat in the backseat between my son and nephew and each request – “Red Bull me” –brought moans of agony from the back as the smell of the combination is, apparently, less than pleasant to some people (especially young boys).
In Deadwood, we toured the spot where the famous lawman Wild Bill Hickok was gunned down during a card game and then headed up the hill to see his final resting place alongside Calamity Jane in Mount Moriah Cemetery. With the entire town blanketed in mist, Deadwood was a locale with an unusual feel, making it the perfect gateway to our next destination.
According to the National Park Service brochure, “to understand the place called Devil’s Tower requires many perspectives.” The majestic tower had been a bucket list destination for me since seeing the movie, “Close Encounters of the Third Kind,” in the late ‘70s.
The tower, which is America’s first national monument, is a sacred place to many Native American tribes. The Lakota tribe considered it “a sacred place of renewal” and used the location for “vision quests.” According to the NPS brochure, “Vision quests are a very intense form of prayer” and “individuals who seek visions ‘often regain clarity of purpose in their lives.’” The sense of clarity and awe I experienced while hiking the trail around the tower was unlike anything I had experienced before. In many ways that hike felt like a “vision quest” for me.
Our entire hike around the tower was quiet. We spoke almost in whispers and, strangely, although there were other vehicles there, I can’t remember seeing another person during our hike. It’s as if we were the only people there, or in the world for that matter. We left Devil’s Tower heading to Thermopolis, Wyoming.
I remember vividly that as we drove in the evening gloam toward Thermopolis, listening to John Hiatt’s “Master of Disaster,” the four lane suddenly turned to two and then two lanes turned to gravel and, suddenly, we found ourselves in the middle of a running herd of antelope.
The pronghorns simply appeared, ran for a distance alongside our vehicle, and, just as mysteriously, turned and disappeared over a rise and as the song changed to Widespread Panic’s “Coconuts,” we were drawn back into reality by a passing 18-wheeler. While I stared at the familiar red and white Coca-Cola logo on the trailer as it passed, the gravel transitioned back to pavement, and I longed for someone to interpret the dream I was experiencing.
While checking into the Plaza Hotel in Thermopolis later that night, we were treated to mist again, however, this time it was rising from the hot springs. The beautiful hotel is located in Hot Springs State Park which is home to a large mineral hot spring.
As I lay in bed reading about the history of the hotel, which is listed on the National Register of Historic Places, I discovered that it was originally a sanitarium for those seeking the healing benefits of the mineral springs. The realization that we were in a former sanitarium was strangely comforting to me and it seemed a fitting end to our surreal experiences in the Black Hills.
Until next time, I look forward to seeing you out there in our great outdoors.
Email outdoors columnist Brad Dye at braddye@comcast.net.