Have you ever felt like you were the last man on Earth? Have you ever been to a place that was so desolate, remote, and somehow made you feel so insignificant? A place that was beautiful to the eyes, but simultaneously made you feel like there was not another person around for miles? Well, welcome to the Badlands of South Dakota.
In the past, I have travelled through the Australian Outback from Alice Springs to Uluru, but at least I had the luxury of being with a small tour group on a bus. This time around, however, I was all by myself in a state I had never been to driving down the road to nowhere. It was a literal jump into the unknown; I just prayed that my rental car wouldn’t break down and I would wind up in a rouge 70’s-era road thriller horror movie.
For about half-an-hour down the road en route to Badlands National Park, I did not see a single car on the road. I did not even see another human being as well! Suffice it to say, it was a bit nerve-wracking to drive down that long and not see another person or car. It reminded me of the pilot episode of The Twilight Zone, “Where is Everybody?” where a lone man wanders aimlessly through what appears to be a deserted town with no one around and slowly goes mad from loneliness. If I had kept up that drive for another fifty miles or another hour or two, I may have gone a tad mad. Just when it seemed the scenery would seldom change, I caught my first glimpse of something interesting: the first of many badland rock formations. It looked like a series of giant termite mounds, similar to the tall magnetic ones found throughout the Australian Outback. Much like the shape of clouds, they all appeared to take on a shape of their own depending on how you viewed them. It was difficult for me to watch the road and be awestruck by how surreal my new, unfamiliar surroundings were. It really did feel like I had landed on another planet; it was like something out of Star Wars or A Wrinkle in Time.
Once I reached the small town of Interior (and I use the term small in a very literal term), it was just a short drive towards the entrance of Badlands National Park; a tollbooth and park ranger greeted my long, awaited entrance. Never in my wildest dreams have I ever thought I’d be in such a remote corner of these United States. The Badlands stretched on for miles into the distance. The scenery was eerily similar to the opal mines in Cooper Pedy, Australia.
While there, I managed to squeeze in a climb on top of one of many rock formations overlooking the main road into the park. It was no easy feat; the rocks were slippery and traction proved quite hard. It felt like scree, a loose volcanic rock combined with the dustiness of dry wall. I had to get on all fours just make sure I didn’t take a tumble. Nonetheless, I made it to the top and felt pretty proud for my mild act of danger. I did, however, had to crawl backwards. Like I said, really slippery.
