Does Anyone Live in South Dakota?

Okay, I think my ego took a bashing since I only got 4 de-lurking comments, but I'll wade through the pain somehow. Onward!

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I don’t know what it was about this road trip, but the drive from Wisconsin to Minnesota to South Dakota to Montana seemed like FOREVER. Strangely, it seemed MUCH longer than driving the full length of New Zealand's north island from top to bottom, the long ferry ride, and then the continued driving on the south island. I guess the fact that it's winter and there isn’t much to look at didn’t help. Not to mention driving in a cram-packed car with your knees up against the glove compartment and a whiny cat climbing in and out of your lap doesn’t make for an especially pleasant ride either. I read aloud from Drums in Autumn by Diana Gabaldon, the current Outlander series book we’re on, though it seems to be slow-going. I think it’s because it’s not one of my favorites and I’m not as excited to get through it. It’s really the first two I love. Once the characters of Jamie and Claire made it to “the New World” I lost a lot of interest. I love historical fiction, but as an American, to have the New World as the setting is just so boring. As an American kid, that stuff is stuffed down your throat endlessly. I’d rather (the story) be in Scotland!

Anyway, South Dakota seemed to go on forever, and there were only two things to divert us from our boredom. One was the strangely infinite number of billboards for “Wall Drug” almost the second you crossed the border into the state. The first one said something like, “As seen on Good Morning America!” followed by others proclaiming their appearance in various popular magazines and TV shows. Hmm, okay, interesting. From that point on they kept coming. Beau thought they ran in the hundreds, though I’m not sure they could possibly have been that high. All I know is that they certainly were interesting and unrelenting. Here’s one of my favorites:

Notice, if you can see it, that it notes the exit is 110. I imagine at this time we were somewhere around exit 38 or so. Wall Drug gave you LOTS of warning. Whoever their Marketing Manager is, s/he needs to take a chill pill.

The second enticement as we tried desperately to get through South Dakota was Mount Rushmore. Now, I wanted to just GET to Montana and START. I felt like my life was on hold and wasn’t in the mood for one of those ‘stop at every attraction’ road trips. But Mount Rushmore was different. It’s something that really interested me and considering I couldn’t see myself tooling through South Dakota ever again, it seemed like my only chance. But we had one thing against us – winter daylight, or lack thereof. We had started somewhat early enough in the day, but I felt the minutes of light just tick tick ticking away and Mount Rushmore, particularly since the monument is at the far west end of the state and we had started at the state’s eastern border, would be chancy. Not to mention that, like, it’s a mountain and all, so when it gets dark, it’ll kinda suck. Yet, we decided to make a go of it.

South Dakota is also the home to the Badlands, which Beau also wanted to take a look at. I knew we couldn’t really miss this either, though it mattered less to me. Still, we exited the highway and raced down the small road toward the Badlands park. It was kinda eerie. I mean, I know it’s winter and all, but the utter lack of human existence was unsettling. Numerous touristy sites, mostly very cowboy-ish, stood in small ghost town-like groups with large “CLOSED” signs screaming from their doors. Obviously, it’s not the high season or anything, but the fact that every business seemed to have closed up shop was just strange. It was winter, but it wasn’t THAT cold, and I’m a wimp! I guess people don’t like to look at giant mountains of presidential faces when it’s cold.

So, we got the gate with that little guard hut at the Badlands, and it was empty, though it informed us that if we went too far into the park, the honor system would kick in and we’d have to pay a hefty visitor’s fee. So, we went just far enough to reach a look-out point, but not far enough to have to pay anything, cause that’s just the kind of people we are! We stood at the lookout point looking at a big vastness of desolation. Growing up in Arizona, I do have an appreciation for wild, uninhabitable beauty, and the Badlands are certainly interesting, but about two minutes of polite oohs and ahhs, we both kinda went, “Yup, let’s go.”

With the little stick-shift roaring from gear to gear, we drove back to the main highway, and of course, were met with another half dozen “Wall Drug!” signs. This was just too much. We had to see this place, even if it chanced arriving at Mount Rushmore post-sunset. I turned to Beau and said, “You know, there’s been so much goddamn build-up on this Wall Drug, that if this place isn’t spectacular, it’s going to really piss me off.” He agreed.

So, many miles, and many creative billboards later, we made the turn-off to Wall Drug. It was in a tiny town, called (duh), Wall, South Dakota. We parked and got out of the car, me in that sort of restless state where you are already late for something and have to make a stop first. As we walked up to the place, I noticed that it looked awfully similar to a lot of the touristy places my family would take visitors to when I was living in Arizona. The kind of places where you can buy cowboy hats, cactus jelly, and Mexican blankets. Usually it was “Old Scottsdale” we took friends/family to, but by far, the very best place, and a place that holds many dear memories of mine from childhood is Rawhide, “An 1880’s Western Town, Steakhouse, Saloon, and Shops right in the heart of Wild Horse Pass.” It’s a hokey place where you can see a shoot out, ride a mechanical bull, pan for gold, eat rattlesnake, ride a donkey or stagecoach, and dress up in those old western outfits and do the sepia photograph (Beau and I already have the “Shotgun Wedding” one which I use as a wedding photo since we eloped anyway). Even for a Western girl such as myself, a chance to ride a donkey or stagecoach and maybe pocket a little rock candy or a jawbreaker as big as my head was a real treat. When visiting their website, I was thrilled to see they seem to still be going strong and have added a few attractions (camel riding??).

ANYWAY, as usual, I digress. So we entered Wall Drug, which basically was like a Western-themed indoor strip mall. The place consisted of about a dozen shops, each with its own topic. As with everywhere else touristy in the state, the place was dead – a few shops were even closed up. We decided with just the few minutes we’d allowed ourselves to look around, we’d enter the art store. And as always with me, I left the place pissed off. In Arizona, these places always have some amazing art, often with the image of the hardened cowboy, the noble Native American, or the various “Western” animals of coyote/wolf, horse, or bison/buffalo. And just like in Arizona, the prices for some of the stuff was absofuckinglutely through the roof. I have an appreciation for art, particularly tasteful paintings and native textiles, but I’m not going to forgo eating for a week to buy a Hopi placemat.

We continued on, poking our heads in a few of the doors, but feeling almost like intruders since the only people occupying the stores were the owners. There was one kind of apothecary shop which featured many smelly-looking candles (which I like), but I was too intimidated to even check, knowing they’d be like $20 each and I’d have to slink out of the store, swearing under my breath. So, we just continued walking on the authentically creaky “Western” floorboards ‘til we were out the door. “That was pretty disappointing,” I said. “Yeah,” said Beau, and he turned the key and we were off again.

Now I REALLY wanted to see Mount Rushmore. It couldn’t possibly suck as much as Wall Drug did.