June 14, 2009

June 14

“Why Drug”

I-95’s South of the Border, you’ve got competition. You may not be the tackiest, glorified truck stop, tourist trap in the country. Wall Drug may have you beat. Absolutely, ridiculous. Though not as racist as the Speedy Gonzalez-style Mexican theme of South of the Border, Wall Drug’s ubiquitous and obnoxious billboards pepper the state. Here’s what I liked: Homemade doughnuts (tasty), camping supplies (useful), Banjo and guitar playing nickelodeon (neat). Here’s what’s not to like: Everything else. Though I secretly enjoyed it, I feel like I wasted enough time stopping there and shouldn’t waste anymore writing about it.

“Run to the Hills”

Onto The Black Hills and Custer State Park. We decided it might be nice to ride around the “wildlife loop” here before heading to Deadwood. Shelby really wanted to see as she put it “where all the old outlaws used to hang out.” The time of day and the beauty of the park convinced us to spend the night there and the memory of Wall Drug and the Corn Palace led us to think that Deadwood might be a similar tourist trap. So we would end up skipping that portion of our itinerary, but for the time being we enjoyed our stay in Custer State Park. Because of the impromptu nature of our decision to stay there we did not have reservations for a campsite. No problem, though because the sign said to find an empty spot and pay when the attendant came around.
After seeing a number of deer, buffaloe and goats, about halfway through the 20 mile wildlife loop we found one such spot in the Blue Bell campsite. We set up the tarp and tent just beating a slight drizzle. An attendant came around about 30min after we got there and without a word put an orange piece of paper on our site’s post. After he left, Shelby read it. It was the reservation slip for YOUNG C of Illinois. Whoopsie.

We decided to wait it out. These mystery campers weren’t here yet. There was plenty of room for two tents. There had not been a reserved sign when we arrived. We made every excuse not to take down the tent and move on. (I was spearheading this effort. I didn’t think and still don’t think it was a big deal, but as we will see, park employees feel differently.) We made it through dinner and about to wash the dishes when an SUV with Illinois plates drove up. The fella driving got out and we discussed the situation. Adam and Cindy Young of Oak Park, IL practically our neighbors. He assured us that they were not weirdos and would have no problem sharing with us for the first of their three nights. In the mean time though he would go look for another open spot and take that one first. I went to wash the dishes and ran into a campsite host, who had earlier called me “big guy” when we passed in the bathroom. He sympathetically informed me that we had to pull up stakes, literally, and move on. He let me know that, according to the voice on the other end of his walkie, the Center Lake Campsite had ten vacancies. He called me “big guy” again and drove away in his golf cart.

Shelby finished the dishes, so I could start quickly packing the car. I was worried that we would get to Center Lake too late to find a vacancy. It was starting to get dark. Adam and Cindy were very nice and since we had a fire going already for them, offered to pay for the firewood we had used. At our refusal they said they would buy us a beer back in Chicago. Fine by us. They set up as we broke down camp. I had the hair-brained idea that Shelby would drive ahead and pick out a spot while I broke down the tent and biked it over when I was done. Luckily, she got everything else packed in the car around the same time that I got the tent put away so we drove together. As we went over the 12 miles of steep hilly terrain I imagined myself biking with an awkward grip on the handle of our tent’s carrying case. I might have died. If not I probably would have gotten there with the tent around 3am. Did I mention that I was out of shape?

When we drove up to our second campground of the evening there were several vacancies, so all that haste was for nothing. I got the tent started on the banks of a small lake while Shelby went to the general store for supplies. As I was setting up two deer came within 100ft of me to graze. I heard them splash through the creek onto a little marshy patch between our camp and the lake. Since we had already eaten, we built a fire and made s’mores. Again Shelby went to bed to write by flashlight in her journal. As I watched the fire die, I heard something rustle and splash near by. I got the flash light from Shelby and shined it on to two glowing orange eyes. Then I decided the fire could see itself out.