Devil’s Tower

We’re staying in Sturgis, South Dakota. Yep, that Sturgis. The one known for it’s gargantuan motorcycle rally. We will not be here then. Nope, no, definitely not. I understand the draw of riding a motorcycle through this part of the country. It has no helmet law, has flat high plains, winding mountain roads, absolutely massive wildlife you just don’t find anywhere else, and steak. The sun is hot. The beer is cold. And, as I just found out, if you cross the border into Wyoming, the speed limit is 80 miles per hour! EIGHTY! I actually cheer when I see the first sign and then promptly put my foot down. So, you get the idea. Great location for bikers. But, I have absolutely no desire to be here during that particular brand of crazy. It still feels a little raw here. A little wild west. Even today when there are no motorcycle events going on.

But, it’s the perfect place to homebase while exploring the surrounding areas. For example, our local list includes Mt. Rushmore (need to get current pics of Mr. C in the same pose as 6 years ago), Crazy Horse, Custer State Park, Deadwood, and Devil’s Tower. All of these are between 30 and 90 minutes away. Excellent location.

You know those places you’ve built up in your mind to such enormity that, as you’re actually about to see them in person, you can’t help but wonder if they’ll match up to your expectations, or be complete let downs? For me, Devil’s Tower is one of those places. I don’t know where or when I first discovered it existed. Probably in the same way and at the same time as most of you, Close Encounters of the Third Kind. (As an aside, my child will be subjected to this movie as soon as we end our wandering homeless period.) But, it doesn’t really matter when or how I found out about it. I’ve wanted to see it for a very long time. Very. Long. Time.

I’ve come close to it before. Six years ago when cross-countrying (look, I made up a new word!) we made it to the general area. We did Yellowstone and then Mount Rushmore and Crazy Horse, but we didn’t carve through that corner of Wyoming. I wanted to. I tried my hardest to find a way to do it all, but it just didn’t work with the rest of our plans. So, when planning this trip, I made it a priority. In fact, it was very near the top of my list.

We’re driving there. It’s a beautiful afternoon. Big, blue skies. Fluffy clouds. Warm, but comfy temperatures. It’s in the 80’s. Really, the perfect weather for some outdoor fun.

We decide that we’re going to go late in the afternoon and stay after dark to see the stars above the tower. Originally, I plan to bring the dogs with us. It’s a National Monument which means the dogs can’t take to the trails, but I figure we’ll stick to the parking lot and they can happily hang with us there. Fortunately, for reasons that will become clear later, I ask for Mr. C’s opinion about this before we leave. I let him decide. He says, “No dogs!”

Our drive is beautiful. I’m thrilled to drive 80 miles an hour without fear of financial retribution or ruin. The interstate is smooth and well maintained. (Why is it that Wyoming has such low taxes, but great roads and New York has horrifically high taxes and dismal roads? It’s a mystery.)

As we near the park I’m stopping at every turnout to snap a few photos. We see our first two buffalo! Granted, they were with a couple of cattle, so they are probably farmed, but still, they are impressive. Then, we are there.

The magic begins immediately. Prairie dogs, people. I know, for those of you who live in areas infested by these hole digging varmints, you have no clue why the rest of us find them so fabulous. But, we do. They stand up on their hind legs and peer around for danger. They are everywhere. They have their own town! They communicate! We pull over multiple times to capture photos of them. We hear them bark to one another. We watch a prairie dog fight! It’s simply amazing. Even Mr. C stops reading his book to watch the action. Fabulous.

We continue up the road until we reach the information center. I buy a hat! I almost never buy a hat. We can see the tower looming above us. We decide that while we wait for the stars, we should hike. Without the dogs, this is not a problem.

The loop we choose, the Tower Trail, is 1.3 miles (2 km for the rest of the world). It takes us over an hour and a half to complete. Mr. C would be happy to tell you that it isn’t because we walk slower than snails, it’s because I stop to take a lot of photographs along the way. It’s beautiful. I love seeing the tower from the different sides. And, there are prayer cloths tied to the trees and branches. I try to stop at each one to appreciate why someone chose that particular location to leave their prayer.

The thing that gets me in western forests is the smell. It’s pine. It’s heat. It’s earth. It’s dry. You don’t smell anything damp. Nothing wet. It’s baked Christmas trees mixed with dirt. It makes me happier than almost any other smell on earth. I haven’t smelled this particular smell for five years. And, I am loving it. The trail is peaceful. It’s calm. It feels sacred. This isn’t Devil’s Tower. It’s Bear Lodge, like one of the Native American names for it. It feels protective and strong.

The tower is bathed in sunlight when we arrive. But, by the time we reach the halfway point, it is shadowed and I realize we need to move faster for the second half or risk being in the forest after dark. We don’t have a flashlight with us.

Mr. C is skipping along the trail (ok, I may be using the term skipping a bit loosely.) I am happier than I’ve been in many, many months. I realize that we can do this whenever we want. We can go to a National or State Park. We can hike for the afternoon. We can feel the air, hear the birds, smell the trees, take as many photos as we (I) want. It is freeing.

We make it back to the car before dark. We wait for the first stars to twinkle. About 90 minutes. At this point, we realize that the predicted clouds and thunderstorms, that didn’t seem likely an hour ago, are actually going to happen. There are not going to be any stars. We drive away back to our temporary home.

But, it’s ok. We see something great. We experience something amazing. And, this time, without a pet in sight, we meet some very interesting people. The couple from New Jersey heading for Yellowstone. Originally from California (like us!), living on the East Coast (like us!), a brother moving to Seattle next month (like us!)! We take their picture. They take ours. The Asian family who is trying to get a picture in front of the tower. The dad, “It’s hard to get the whole tower in the picture.” He hasn’t seen my camera yet. He doesn’t know that I will know how to get his family and the entire tower into the photo. They smile and wave every time we see them after this. And, the climbers we see way up on the side of the tower (check out the middle, lower third of the photo left to see one of them!). Wow, never would I be willing to attempt this.

We make connections. To people. To the tower. To our country. This is why we embarked on this epic cross-country adventure in the first place. We could have just taken a plane and made it in half a day. Our journey is about discovery. We are part of this country that raised us. For now, we are exploring just one small part of it. It’s really quite amazing.