Murdo He Wrote

Badlands Viewpoint

Murdo Motel Lobby Decorations

This morning we find ourselves in Spearfish, South Dakota, poised to end our long sojourn through this state that began not long after leaving Minneapolis. South Dakota is a state of many wonders, most of which are compressed into its western half. The eastern side is very plain, which is probably why they call it the Plains, but once you cross the Missouri River in Oacoma (right now swollen to high flood stage,) the land turns rolling, and after a bit some rock outcroppings peak their heads up. We stopped in Murdo, which is barely even a town; the highlight of the night was an intense, blustery thunderstorm that dumped torrents of rain accompanied by hail and powerful lightning. The motel's metal roof sounded like an entire Steel Band gone berserk, and the light show was second to none. We hit the interstate in the morning. After a short sprint we turned off the highway and headed south towards the aptly named Interior. This brings you into the Badlands National Park, where Andrea's nifty (senior) lifetime pass saved us a quick $15 in admission fees. The Badlands are a wall of erosion; the high plain which we had been crossing falls away to a lower plain and grassland; all along the edge of this geological event are 'sharps' and 'brules,' fantastic pointed and rounded structures with complex shapes carved along their edges and bases that suggest the decorations of a fancy cathedral. We partook in many of the overlooks while cruising the Badlands Loop Road, culminating in the Panoramic viewpoint, where the formations stretched for many miles and faded into the hazy distance. The Sage Creek Rim Road offered a couple of additional delights; after banging down five miles of gravel and dirt surface (nicely maintained and not particularly challenging) we ended up at the Prairie Dog Park, where the little critters periodically poked their heads out of their burrows, stood up on their back legs, surveyed the scene, and then plopped back down below the surface. There were quite a few of them and they chattered back and forth. A bit further down the road, free range bison were hanging out, and a couple of them crossed right in front of us, offering some decent photo opportunities.

Prairie Dog Crossing

We reversed course and headed out to Wall, SD and the eponymous 'drug store' of the same name. If you've ever driven I-90 in either direction, you are assaulted by a continuous series of billboards touting the wonders of Wall Drug. These include free ice water (big wow) and five-cent coffee, but what you have here is basically a huge gift shop and café, filled with an overwhelming variety of fundamentally useless things: geodes and polished rocks, ugly jewelry, books (mostly about the Plains and the West,) an immense selection of Minnetonka Mocassins (now made in the Dominican Republic,) cowboy boots and western wear, and of course a huge selection of gift shop items, including your very own Sturgis shot glass for just $6.95. I don't think a single object in the entire store was made in the United States. The look is Old West; the prices are high; the bathrooms are inadequate; the signs are garish. This proves that just because a company puts 2,000 billboards next to the highway, this is no guarantee of quality. Five minutes was enough. I do respect their promotional abilities, however; it is hard to go by without feeling you've missed something important. You haven't.

George in Profile

The far western sector of South Dakota holds some treasures. Least among them, but nonetheless of interest, is Mount Rushmore, followed closely by the Crazy Horse Memorial. The highway up to Mount Rushmore offers some excellent viewing simply by pulling over at the unmarked but obvious viewpoint; what is not so obvious is that although there is no admission fee for the memorial, there is a "concession fee" (read: parking shakedown)  of $11, a fact they keep from you until you are at the toll booth. However if you simply tell them you're not interested, you can exit for free. Thanks! To my way of thinking this epitomizes all that is wrong with American Capitalism and the free market; here you have a striking piece of national heritage that is arguably worth a close-up look, but thanks to privatization, someone's fat palm is out, demanding to be greased. This is a function that could easily be run by the Government, but that would deny someone the ability to insert a tier of profit into the scheme. Reminds me of health care; all that privatization has done nothing to improve anybody's health, but has made many CEOs wealthy specifically by denying services. Oh well. We did continue down the road and got the profile view of the father of our country, big George. Impressive. The next attraction was one we knew nothing about until Andrea read a postcard at one of our gas stops. It was the Iron Mountain Road and Pigtail Bridges. Apparently a Senator from South Dakota named Peter Norbeck designed a series of tunnels, blasted out of solid granite, that perfectly frame Mount Rushmore in all its patriotic glory. Then and only then did he commission a road designer to connect them up. This involved a remarkable feat of engineering called the Pigtail Bridges, where the road quite literally folds back upon itself several times while climbing up and down the side of Iron Mountain. It is slow going, but loads of fun. When we got to the top there was a rally of Shelby Cobra owners. For those not in the know, this is a famous, limited-production American sports car built around 1965 (only 17 of the original 427's were ever made, and they are all either in museums or in private collections, being worth about $300k.) These are 'kit' cars, where you buy a fiberglass body and assemble the various running gear from stock Ford parts. Even so, you can drop between 50K and 100K putting one together. Seeing more than a dozen of them in one spot was impressive. The road is called the Iron Mountain Road, part of the Peter Norbeck scenic byway. Norbeck was quite a character, born in the basement of a sod house on the prairie. He became a Senator despite his complete lack of oratorial skill, and was instrumental in preserving the best parts of South Dakota as parks and preserves. If it's a slow day, look him up on Wikipedia.

Wall Drug

As for Crazy Horse, the carving is again quite visible from a distance as you drive up. Again, an effort is made to conceal the actual charge of admission: $10 per person, or $27 for a car. No thanks. Maybe we will come back when it is finished, if it is in our lifetime. The final sculpture will have Crazy Horse on his steed, pointing to the horizon, with hair flowing behind him. Right now it is another face much like on Rushmore. I suppose the entry fee is more justifiable because this is a work in progress and is privately funded, including from admissions. I just was not feeling the love.

Spearfish Canyon. Does not do it justice

The Gash

Just a few more notes: we drove the length of Spearfish Canyon (another scenic byway) into Deadwood and Lead. This canyon is one of the most impressive sights of our whole trip, yet receives not that much advance hype in all the literature. Slighty rotten, tan-toned cliffs and pinnacles tower over the Spearfish River, which rushes and bubbles along but looks far too diminutive to have done all the carving that surrounds you. The Canyon is unique because, although there are quite a few exposed rock formations, the entire canyon is covered with pine forest, even at the higher points, where the trees are more like an accent than a carpet. This road was anything but crowded. Deadwood is a former mining town which has reinvented itself as a center for casino gambling. Even with this noble new purpose, the town is low key, and the largest casino would barely be noticed in a small city in Nevada. It's a historic Old West city and is loaded with buildings more than 100 years old. But for us it was a drive-through. We proceeded on to its sister city, Lead. The road climbs a hill into the center of town; on the right side is a sheer cliff with a fence. At one place there's a "free observation deck;" this turned out to put you right at the edge of an immense open pit mine, the Homestake, which yielded gold for decades but finally shut down in the '60s. The name came about because it was said that a man could earn enough to buy a home. Get rich quick! This is a cavernous gash in the ground, and the spoils of mining have been deposited in the hills that surround it. The scale is hard to comprehend. After this mind-boggling view the road to Spearfish was strictly ordinary, as is the town. It's a good place for a motel and solid if uninspiring food. It is also the jumping off point for our next leg, through Devil's Tower (think 'Close Encounters') and Cody, Wyoming. At about 350 to 400 miles a day, we're making our way slowly home. Today the mighty Versa will cross 8,000 miles of driving, so we're compressing nearly a year of normal driving into less than a month, and over a week of that time was spent sitting still with various friends. It will feel good to step out of the car for the last time and turn it back to Mr. Hertz, but still, it has been a pleasure.