The wind was back. Not as bad as South Dakota, but I dreaded the thought. I stayed inside the van to watch sunrise which was worth setting the alarm for, but unfortunately I’d got the angle of the van wrong by about 45 degrees, so it wasn’t the comfortable “roll over and watch sunset” situation I’d imagined. I ran outside for a pee without pants, then retreated to the warmth of my bed to snooze and watch the light grow on the horizon.

I am enjoying waking up to my ceiling of memorabilia, though in does instil a bit of nostalgia which doesn’t do very well to encourage me out of bed. Determined to make the kitchen work in the wind, I made my oatmeal after fashioning a windbreak for the bench out of an empty cereal box. It was quite effective! I’ll have to muster up something more permanent for future situations. Not warm enough to eat outside, I ate in the comfy chair while looking out at the herd of bighorn sheep that had tripled since last night (now there was three).

Around 9am I drove back into the Badlands, where I’d exited the day before. It was a cloudy day so the colours of the pinnacles didn’t stand out quite as much but they were impressive nonetheless. I got a bit fed up with getting in and out of the car at every lookout point so eventually I drove past them. I couldn’t believe the size of the carparks. Summer must be crazy here.

At the visitor’s center, I had a strategy to stay in there until my feet warmed up in my hiking boots before doing all of the short hikes on offer. As soon as I walked in, the ranger there asked if I had an entry pass. No hello, nothing! I went back out to the car to get my pass. After seeing it, she was happy to give me maps and advice. Lazy bums not collecting fees at the gate.

I wandered the center, looking at fossils and stuffed animals in their recreated environments. Since I was the only one there and my feet weren’t warming up at the rate I would like, I took my shoes off and wandered in my socks until I could feel my toes again. Happy that my plan had worked, I drove on to the trailhead.

This area had the largest concentration of “badlands” hence all the trails. I started with the Notch Trail. From now on, when I imagine a post-apocalyptic world, I think this is what I’ll see. I was easily the only person around for miles and the trail wasn’t well defined amongst patches of snow. Once I climbed up a ladder to a raised level, it really was complete isolation. Everywhere I looked was just more formations towering above me. The dull colours made it seem ever more dready and hopeless. Because of the soft ground, even the water was muddied and yellow. It would be a hard place to survive.

At the end of the hike, I looked through windows between pinnacles to the fields of similar formations. On the way back, I actually saw people. One guy was trying to take a selfie on the ladder, so I took a photo of him which he was happy about. The next couple asked if it was worth going to the end. “100 %” I said! I had been impressed with it. It had only been a 2km hike but it was lunch time. Back at the car, I decided to walk to the far away bathroom first. Since I’d already gone so far, I set off on the Door hike which was a little further on from the bathroom. It was only 1km so wouldn’t take me long.

The Door hike offered the most impressive views of Badlands. The features look better from below than from above and this trail takes you almost to the valley floor. The clouds were also starting to part so the colours came out more. It was on this hike that I got the “wow” factor, marvelling at nature’s capability.

There was an Asian family on the trail this time, but once they’d returned back to the carpark, I was completely alone amongst these strange towering features. I could hear birds in the distance, but apart from that, it was only me. I yelled out, more than once and the echo that carried my voice was impressive. I think I heard at least five repetitions of my “Whoop! Whoop!” Amazing.

Starving, I made lunch back at the car where the couple from Notch were returning and heading to Mt. Rushmore. I told them not to pay for parking and do like I did then they were off, not having much time to stick around if they were to make it before dark.

The rest of my day was driving. I chased away prairie dogs as I passed by their hovels near the road and spotted heaps of deer grazing away thankfully not fussed by a blue astro navigating the countryside. I started a new audiobook, “Dakota” which I’d only got based on the cover and was delighted to find it was set in Montana, where I’d just come from and involved a community of Blackfoot Indians, one of which I’d met just outside of Glacier National Park. It’s nice that these things come together!

The snow-covered farmland was scenic and I stopped for the cheapest petrol yet in Pine Ridge. Under $2 per gallon! I also stopped to read a sign at “Wounded Knee Massacre” only to be accosted by an Indian selling artwork. That opportunism put me right off and I was gone, I’d only read half the story but I think it was a large group of Indians on a piece of turf, then some white Americans came along and killed them all.

I crossed into Nebraska a short while after Pine Ridge, but to my disappointment, there was no “Welcome to Nebraska” sign for me to stop for. Oh well. The sun went down quickly and at 4:30 I still hadn’t found camp. I saw a car coming out of a dirt road that lead to a state recreation area. Normally these things require money, but I figured I’d have a look. It was a three mile drive and at the end of it I found myself at a lake with a self-registration pay station for $7. It was such a nice spot and gave me the possibility of a campfire, so I deposited $10 (since I didn’t have change) into a water-damaged envelope and slipped it into the fee box. I’m sure I’m a sucker because it looks like no one has been here for days.

With the orange glow of the sun a mere streak on the horizon, I got started on collecting firewood. With a huge fallen tree next to camp it only took me one trip. Fire going, my heart lifted, it had been too long between campfires. I cracked a beer, moved the picnic table to a prime position and sat, staring into the fire. I felt lonely since sitting around a campfire is normally something you do with friends and family.

I got onto dinner, which was leftovers, all the while sitting by the fire, rearranging it with my poking stick and adding wood. The wood was dry so it burned quickly. After dinner the fire was dwindling so I made one more trip to the fallen tree. A few logs more and I was set for the rest of the night. After doing the dishes, I broke up the new wood and rekindled the fire. I’ll admit the last few days of cold has been getting to me, but the fire was my cure. My face was hot and the rest of my body thoroughly warm. I know everything will smell like campfire tomorrow morning but I don’t care.

I sat again, admiring the fire and absorbing the crackling and sizzling noises and I was no longer lonely. I must have sat there for at least an hour, completely lost in thought. My mind went from thinking about what life will be like back home, what it was like, the decisions I’ve made recently, then at some point I moved on to fantasising, letting my imagination go wild. I suppose you could say I was zen!

I enjoyed that part of the night where you throw everything you have left onto the fire, including the poking stick. As the fire dwindled to ashes, I retired to the van feeling cozy.