Devil's Tower, Wyoming to Dickinson, North Dakota
Our
campsite last night was located at a spot with a terrific view of the Devil’s
Tower, looming a mile or so to the northwest.
Waking at about 6:15am, my first thought was to glance out the window at
the tower to check the light, and sure enough, even though there was a slight
overcast, the face of the tower glowed with a soft pink alpenglow. Alas, before I could slip into my jeans and
sweatshirt and grab my camera, the moment was gone. As the sun peeked over the eastern horizon it
quickly ducked behind a band of dark grey clouds.
We were
hoping for a clear day so we could do some more hiking around the tower, but
there was just enough spattering of rain to discourage us from that. So we lolled around, having a cup of coffee
and breakfast of cereal with strawberries and blueberries and an English
muffin. Since it was a dry camp, we only
had to shut off the water heater to be on our way. On the way out of the campground we stopped
to bid farewell and safe travels to Chris, whom we first met at the Badlands
campground a couple of days ago and ran into again here. Chris, his wife, and their two young children
are from Denmark, and are spending four months touring the western US in a
rented motorhome. Since we were headed
north toward North Dakota and Saskatchewan and they were headed west toward
Washington and British Columbia, this was to be our final farewell.
Taking
the winding back road east, back to South Dakota before turning due north, we
passed through the small towns of Hulet, Alva, and Aladdin, all three dating
back to the turn of the 20th century. We stopped for a cup of coffee at the general
store in Aladdin, and there was a sign on the front door announcing that the
whole town (what there was of it) was for sale for $1.5 million, firm. I was tempted to buy it on the spot, but my
ATM card won’t let me withdraw that much at once.
As we
came down out of the hills, we crossed the state line and soon entered the town
of Belle Fourche, whose current claim to fame is that it is now, since the
admission of Hawaii and Alaska into the union, the geographic center of the US
— much to the chagrin of the folks back in Smith Center, Kansas, which used to
be the center of things when there were only 48 states.
At Belle
Fourche we turned left on Santa Fe Drive, or as it’s known hereabouts simply as
US 85, and began our northward trek once more across the endless rolling
prairie. Not that it’s boring, mind you
— there is an occasional butte poking up here and there and every so often a
small band of antelope to break up the monopoly of blank angus cows. (It has been, by the way, a good year for
calves — every mama cow seems to have given birth to twins this year. Somewhere out there are a bunch of really tired
bulls.)
We
called it quits after 270 or so miles and settled into a Bureau of Reclamation
campground at the Patterson Lake Recreation Area, just outside Dickinson, North
Dakota. We were able to make it to Mass
at 4:00pm back in town, then have a nice dinner of grilled chicken breast,
potatoes, and corn, washed down with a glass of white zinfandel before taking a
stroll along the shore of the lake. Forty-six down and four to go.
 |
| Patterson Lake, Dickinson, North Dakota |
No comments:
Post a Comment