September 29th, 2021
Leaving Yellowstone was sad. Sam and I really connected to that place, and I think there’s still a part of me that hasn’t left. That might, in part, be due to the fact that we walked or hiked around 30 miles during the time we were there. No wonder my body feels like an unraveled ball of yarn.
Nonetheless, leaving Yellowstone was just as beautiful as entering.
On our way out of the park, we ran into a buffalo traffic jam.
We exited through the left entrance of the park, through areas we hadn’t been to before. The meadows and forests soon gave way to a huge pass between two mountains. I’m so glad I was driving, otherwise I might have missed out on all the changes in scenery. From crazy rock formations to colorful cliffs to a road between (and through) the mountains, the road to Cody was one of the most scenic we’ve been on so far.
The first word that comes to mind when I think of Cody is cowboy. A rodeo arena the size of a football field greeted us as we crossed into city lines. Honestly, as I rack my brain for any other signs of the cowboy life, I can really only remember the rodeo. I guess I just couldn’t shake the feeling that everyone in this town had some sort of roots in the Wild West.
Sam and I pulled into our first stop for the day and gathered all the dirty laundry that we had generated during the past week.
Instead of getting into the wonderful experience of paying a whopping $30 to clean our clothes and sheets at a laundromat, I want to share our current laundry system. We use Sam’s old laundry bag from his college dorm days. When we started the trip, it seemed like the natural choice -- it even has a backpack strap. So far, it’s done us well in keeping the nasty, sweaty clothes away from our slightly less nasty, sleeping bodies. What I did not anticipate, however, was just how large this bag would get throughout the course of a week.
The night before we reached Cody, I felt like I was sleeping between two bodies instead of one. I’m laughing to myself as I write this, because I honestly feel like I need to give it a name when it reaches such a critical mass. If anyone has ideas, I’m very open to hearing them.
As our clothes began their cleansing, we had enough time to run our other errands across town. Chores are chores and never really fun unless you’re lucky enough to find a discount grocery store. Discount grocery stores are some of my favorite places to shop, second only to thrift stores. The weird assortment of snacks, cheap meats, and sometimes even fresh fruits and veggies is amazing all in its own. But add that to buying them dirt cheap and I’m in heaven.
I really could talk forever about the wonders of these establishments. Before I stop myself, though, I want to mention my two favorite finds at these stores.
Above is a photo of my new favorite coffee in the world. I actually got it at a discount grocer called Esh’s in Fort Collins before we left, and I am kicking myself for not grabbing every box they had. These bad boys have no plastic, taste luxurious, and even come with condensed milk as a creamer. The best part? It’s so much fun to pour the water over the coffee and lavender.
These cookies were $1.50 at the store in Cody. Sam would tease the way I ate them, because I have to sit back, close my eyes, and really savor each bite. I can’t help it. Filled with cream and flaky, these bad boys are the best way to end the day.
It’s Been a Long Day
We ran around Cody for close to 3 hours straight. By the time we finished, our energy levels were as low as the sun in the sky. I dreaded the thought of cooking with such low reserves. Sam and I shared a look.
Our savior came in the form of a local burger joint across from the grocery store. Sam had his eyes on this place since we restocked on supplies, and we were lucky enough to have the place mostly to ourselves. With Jeopardy on the TV in the background, we sat down and enjoyed one of the few meals we didn’t have to cook ourselves.
The sunset colored our backs as we left Cody for a much smaller town: Lovell, Wyoming.
The place we stayed at was the first official campground we’ve been to since we started. Even though it was small and quaint, it was free and had a shower. As much as I love being off the grid, modern plumbing is one of the major wonders of the world. I hope to never take it for granted again.
We took one shower immediately after we got there, followed by another when we woke up. Sam wanted to stay there an extra night so we could enjoy the warm water just a few more times. We probably would have stayed another night, too, if we hadn’t woken up to hundreds of birds chirping in the trees above us. With birds come byproducts, and we didn’t want to deal with all that nasty.
Unfortunately, our getaway wasn’t as clean as I would have liked. Who knew that was just the beginning?
Aw, c’mon.
I just washed my car!
After getting back on the road, we decided to catch up on some calls. The thing is, reception is not very reliable when you drive off the beaten path. Sam and I were joking that every phone call we make needs to be preceded by a prerecorded message, much like those in prison;
“You are receiving a call from Kes and Sam. Please be warned the call may drop at any time, and there is no guarantee they will be able to call you back. Enjoy.”
About an hour outside of Lovell, the road began to climb in elevation. I was excited, because I thought that meant reception would be better. At the time, we were talking to our friend Kim, discussing the cows we kept passing on this steep road.
Let me paint you a picture of these cows.
The first we saw was on the other side of the guardrail, looking over the valley below. I’ve never seen an animal look so unimpressed in the face of sudden death.
As we grew closer to the summit, the cows grew in number. There had to be at least a couple hundred of them. Four or five cowboys were casually herding them on their horses, unbothered by how odd this scene was. All the while, poor Kim was subjected to my and Sam’s loud bewilderment. The call dropped in the middle of my exclamation that “There’s a baby cow suckling in the middle of the road!”
Wading through the sea of cattle, we eventually made it through the herd. We stopped at the top of the road with the intention of calling Kim back to explain. We never got to it, though, because we realized we didn’t have enough fuel to make it to the next town. Oops.
During our excitement from calling people, we forgot to check the tank before leaving. Could we make it an extra 50 miles, when we only have 50 miles left before empty? Or do we go back to Lovell and drive two hours, just to get back to the exact spot we sat at? After some deliberation, we decided the safest option was to back track.
At least the drive was pretty.
Two hours and a full tank later, we were halfway up that mountain road when we had to drive through the cows again. Somehow, after all we went through, I forgot about the dang cows. This time they were further down the mountain at a point where there was no shoulder. I can’t quite describe how tempting it was to roll down the window and touch one of those cows as they moo-ed beside us.
After another half hour, we made it through unscathed. Or so we thought.
We pulled over for lunch a mile past our turnaround point, when I saw all the cow poop on the jeep and teardrop. I’ll spare you the nitty gritty description and just say that it was . . . difficult to avoid. As we ate leftover spaghetti, I begrudgingly planned our next trip to the car wash.
The drive to the west end of Wyoming was scenic as always. Fall colors dotted the grassy forests, cut in half by the long and winding road. My favorite part of the day are the hours just before golden hour, when the sun makes the grass shine gold and the trees glow orange.
The sign Sam is reading says, "Bald Mountain - Range Study Plot - Established 1940"
Our day ended with beautiful views, a tasty salad, some hot chocolate, and a good podcast as we watched the sun set.
Bear Lodge / Devil’s Tower
Our last stop in Wyoming was the Devil’s Tower.
The Lakota tribe, among others, told legends of people escaping from a large bear by staying atop this landmark, his claws marking the sides of the butte. This is where the alternate name of Bear Lodge comes from. I can’t do the story nearly enough justice, so I encourage you to read about it if you’re interested. The name Devil’s Tower was given due to an incorrect interpretation of the name given by natives.
We took a short walk around this massive rock spire, looking up long enough to make my neck hurt. I had no idea that people could rock climb up to the summit, yet we spotted close to ten people scaling the basalt columns.
I also learned that a ladder was used to climb the Devil’s Tower in the 1890’s and early 1900’s. A ladder! I’m sorry, but I would barely be able to use modern climbing equipment, let alone a simple stake ladder. You can just barely see it in the photo below.
Even though the national monument was small, I’m really glad we stopped by. I thoroughly enjoy seeing native history posted alongside early settlers’ history, because both are important and so interesting!
With our short visit over, Sam and I pulled out of the parking lot with our sights on crossing the next border in our journey. But not before lunch.
The Black Hills of South Dakota
I’ve only ever been to South Dakota once before, a little over a year ago. Sam and I backpacked at Badlands National Park for a weekend. Since we explored the park a fair amount, we decided we won’t be visiting during this trip to make time for other parts of the state. Our “must see” list consisted of Wind Cave National Park and Mount Rushmore National Monument. However, on the top of our “must do” list was to take a day to relax.
To do that, however, we needed to find a good campsite. We drove along some dirt roads, passing gigantic houses and a flock of wild turkeys, before we found our first option.
Just off the main road we found a nice, elevated clearing that was right in front of a mine. I’m not going to lie, I hate mines, so it took a lot of convincing from Sam for me to OK setting up there. I do have to admit, though, the area was really cool. Scattered outside of the barred entrance were chunks of quartz, large and small, littered across the ground. There was even a vein of quartz almost as thick as my hand, running along the side of the mine.
I didn’t get to take many photos because, well, I guess I thought we’d have more time to explore before we got kicked out.
My only photo from the first site, and it wasn't even of the mine!
After getting unpacked and settling in, we watched a white truck approach. The man behind the wheel kindly let us know that we weren’t supposed to camp there, and our hearts sank. In hindsight, we probably should have known it was too good to be true. I think I was just more upset that I finally started to like the site before we got evicted.
It didn’t take us too long to find another spot. Our turnaround was actually impressive, in my opinion. In less than 30 minutes, we were set up almost exactly as we had been. This time, however, we were situated between two hills, each topped with their own campers.
Rest days really are quite rejuvenating. Being able to sleep in, make a big breakfast, and catch up on personal projects is an important step to feeling human again. I’ve learned a lot about myself this past month. Apparently, I’ll slowly wither away into a husk if I don’t get the chance to slow down and breathe. I suppose I knew this already in the context of work and school, but it’s a new experience for me to be exhausted by what is essentially vacation.
Fun fact: I’ve also learned that I get very hangry if I am not fed appropriately.
Anyways, the whole day was a blur, which I take as a good sign. I tried out some yoga, we called some people back, and did a lot of other little things throughout the day. My only complaint is that I wanted to do more than the day had room for. I think for our next rest day, I need to wake up extra early to fit in all the things I want to do. Maybe 5AM?
Mt. Rushmore
I’ve never really thought much about Mt. Rushmore. I know I learned briefly about it when I was in elementary school, but the knowledge never really stuck because I hated anything related to history as a kid. Now as an adult, I love learning about the past, but I’ll be the first to admit that American history still feels a little boring to learn about. After my visit to Mt. Rushmore, I wouldn’t say that’s necessarily changed. However, standing before the sculpted mountain, it was hard not to admire the people who accomplished such a feat.
The four presidential heads rose above the stairs as we walked through the Avenue of Flags. I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was all so weird. As we got closer, my focus wasn’t so much on the men's faces but instead on the border between sculpture and mountain.
The Black Hills are a beautiful range of rocks protruding from the earth, covered in lichen and crevices. Then, deeply carved within those rocks, are the polished faces of four men. No matter what opinions about the monument you have, you have to admit that’s weird.
The area itself was small, and the museum was interesting but not necessarily noteworthy. I do, however, want to mention one thought I had during my time there.
Of the four presidents atop that mountain, the man I admire the most is Theodore Roosevelt. Perhaps some of this admiration stems from my high school history teacher’s own crush on the man. Whatever the cause, he is the reason we have National Parks today. Without him, I wonder how wild our wilderness would be.
All I wish to say is thank you for everything, Teddy. I hope you like what you see from all the way up on the Black Hills.
From Mt. Rushmore, we went to Jewel Cave. Well, at least we tried to go to Jewel Cave. The area was closed on the day we went, so we resorted to hiking on a nearby trail.
Here are some photos from that canyon trail:
Why is it called Wind Cave?
Once again, I underestimated a national park. Maybe underestimated isn’t the right word — I had absolutely no idea what to expect is probably a better way to put it.
Our tour took us through a set of doors in what I soon learned acted as an airlock. Without these doors, winds up to 70 mph could be blasting through the opening to the cave.
As our group entered deeper into the caverns, I noticed the lack of stalactites and stalagmites that I usually associate with caves. Instead, I saw fragile rock webbing across the ceilings and small passageways that could have led anywhere.
One of the most interesting things I learned on this tour was the fact that Wind Cave is the most dense and complex cave system in the world. Every year, a few new miles are mapped and explored. Three weeks before we visited, the total mileage increased to 157 miles. In fact, all the maps in the visitor center were not only reporting the wrong size, but they were off by a large amount — one map showed the system was only 75 miles!
I really want to share every little golden nugget of knowledge I found on that hour and a half tour. I want to go into detail about how these caves formed from ancient seas, or how the national park came into the hands of the government through a neighbourly cattle dispute. But I don’t want to spoil these tours for you, in case you ever decide to go.
Instead, as I love to do when words aren’t enough, I would like to share just a few photos from that tour.
(Shoutout to my phone camera, which takes better lowlight photos than my Canon).
Our tour ended with a ride in an elevator built in the 1940s. We left with my head buzzing, questions popping into my head faster than I could say them.
With my mind deep beneath the surface of South Dakota, we left the state border and crossed into Nebraska.
What’s even in Nebraska?
All of my past experiences in Nebraska were spent driving north through the state towards Wisconsin. As a kid, I hated driving through Nebraska. There was never anything to look at and the nothingness never seemed to end. To make it all worse, there was always the sticky stink of cow manure that permeated the cab. Needless to say, my opinion of Nebraska has never been anything but negative.
This attitude stayed with me the entire way out of South Dakota and as we entered Nebraska. It wasn’t until I stepped onto the Oglala National Grasslands that my opinion flipped entirely.
I swear, one of these days I’m going to get whiplash from these low expectations getting blown away.
We didn’t have to drive too far before we were absorbed by the grasslands. One lonesome antelope eyed us across the hills. He even ran beside us as we searched for a site to camp. Sam didn’t believe me at first when I said he was following us. After we parked, the antelope popped out from behind a low hill and just stood there, watching. He all but told us to remember that we are just visitors, then sauntered away.
This site was the first in a while that we had truly and entirely to ourselves. No sneaky generator across the bushes, no people within a multiple mile radius. This had to be one of my favorite sites we’ve had so far.
Toadstool Geologic Site
We woke up with empty stomachs and no motivation to cook. It only took us a few minutes to unanimously decide to grab breakfast at one of the towns we would pass through later.
Saying goodbye to this site was hard, but I’m sure it would have been harder if I wasn’t so eager to eat. I wanted so badly to drive along every road in these grasslands and lose myself in one small remnant of the Great Plains.
A few miles past where we camped, the flat land around us began to change. Sam and I just stared dumbfounded -- are those . . . badlands?
Sure enough, as we followed the signs for Toadstool Geologic Site, we stumbled upon one of the craziest landscapes I’ve seen so far.
I don’t think I’ve talked about it too much in my previous posts, but I am obsessed with geology and natural history. I love learning about all the events that make the land look the way it is, even if those events happened hundreds of millions of years ago. Along with geology, I love fossils. My dream is to stumble upon a vertebrate fossil at least once in my life. I’ve found fossilized sea shells in New Mexico and petrified wood in Arizona. What glorious piece of the world would we discover in Nebraska?
The answer is footprints. This geologic area showcases the fossilized footprints of mammals from 30 million years ago. These footprints were made by many different animals crossing and walking beside an ancient river. Apparently there are also vertebrate fossils somewhere in the area, but I didn’t see any. I think I wanted it too much.
A Toadstool forms when a slab of sandstone is balanced atop more weathered clay, as seen in the foreground of this photo.
These divots are the fossilized footprints we saw. After millions of years of weathering, it's hard to tell what they are without a trained eye, which I also do not have.
The rest of the day was spent driving, but was equally mind blowing.
I’m not sure why I hated Nebraska so much as a kid, because even the nothingness of the plains shook me. Growing up around the mountains meant that I always had an interesting horizon to stare at. Here, the horizon was empty. The grassy hills rolled, seemingly endlessly, and I couldn’t help but imagine being placed in the center. With no other landmarks, it would be hard not to feel as if I were lost at sea.
We stayed two more nights in Nebraska, one in the central Nebraska National Forest and the other in a campground similar to the one in Lovell. We made one more stop in Omaha for another bout of chores before leaving for Iowa.
We finally got lunch and swiftly never wanted to eat again.
We couldn't resist visiting the Nebraskan Carhenge.
Sam and I were excited for our next stop, because it meant we had a place to do our laundry and take a shower. Our friend Ben asked his Nana if we could stay on her farm, and that’s where we went after Omaha.
I was a little scared as we got closer. This was my first time meeting his Nana — I didn’t want to accidentally knock on the wrong door and have no idea what to say. And if we did get the right door, what would I say then? I found myself wishing Ben were there with us, but when we asked he told us he couldn’t make it.
Soon, a dirt road led us to a house surrounded by crop fields. Unsure of where to park, we left the car in the most unobtrusive spot we could. We tentatively walked to the front door and knocked. A dog rushed up, barking at us through the glass.
“Woah,” I thought to myself, “that looks a whole lot like Ben’s dog.”
The pup, donning a CSU bandana that I was very familiar with, was most certainly Ben’s dog. I opened the door and Kota immediately started peeing from excitement.
“Hey guys!” Ben said, rounding the corner.
Looks like we aren’t the only people visiting Nana this weekend.
NEXT WEEK
We get a guided tour of western Iowa,
cross the Mississippi,
and get to explore our first big city!
I seriously can’t wait to eat all the Chicago Dogs.
Wooooo shoutout to geology for being the most badass science ever
....but imagine the story the cowboys are telling about the Jeep and teardrop that inexplicably drove through their herd 3 times!!
Really enjoyed reading about your week 4. And it was so much fun having all of you at the farm. I enjoyed every minute..... please come back again someday. Safe travels. Nana