Surprises

Well, I apologize for my absence, but we've been in a pretty rustic area for the past couple of days. I'm going to back track a bit, and you'll have to imagine that this is being posted in real time.

Okay, so remember when I said that we pulled into our campsite at midnight? It was pitch black, and we put up the tent with the assistance of the headlights. Adam had promised me that we'd take it kind of easy the next morning, making a good ol' camp breakfast and having a fire. I slept like a rock, and ignored my alarm. I slept until about 9, when Adam came back to the tent and said, "Oh my God, Allison, you need to see where we are." I sat up, disoriented and sleepy. Obviously, I was in a tent. In my sleeping bag. And had been sound asleep, quite happily. I unzipped myself and stumbled through the tent door into the most beautiful scene I had ever come across. Below us was a lake, straight ahead, high hills, the sun streaming down through the tree cover above us. Pulling into the campsite the night before, we were tired and given the late hour and the pure darkness of the Black Hills National Forest, we were completely unaware of our surroundings. It was as though we had been transported to an L.L. Bean catalogue.

I was in charge of most of the preparations as far as collecting the necessary foodstuffs we'd be needing. Adam started the fire, I set up the camp stove. I put on the percolator with some coffee roasted in Chicago, originally from Ethiopia, in the Black Hills. I felt very worldly. Breakfast that morning was scrambled eggs and "frybread." Its an awesome idea to have rustic camp food when you're camping. Its even more awesome to remember to bring necessary things like butter, which I didn't. Thankfully, a young couple next to us was making a nice camp breakfast of eggs and bacon, and I went over to bother them. They were sweet enough to give us enough butter for our meal. The eggs were fluffy and the toast was delicious. We sat by the fire and started planning our day. Time was getting short, we wanted to see as much of the west as we could before we had to head home. We took down camp and were about to get on our way until we noticed that our friends next door had locked themselves out of their car. Adam offered them a ride back to Keystone, but they were determined to get themselves back in with a tent stake and a hatchet.

Driving west out of the park, we stopped at the ranger station, which had been closed at midnight when we rolled in, to pay. We could have gotten the night free, but we're pretty honest folks.

We still couldn't believe our luck as we headed west, destination unknown for the most part. We passed small towns and signs proclaiming "Wild West Shows." We passed a sign for a town called Deadwood, immortalized as a classic Wild West town by television, movies and dime novels about cowboys. Adam started debating with himself in the way that he does, trying to convince himself that he's not missing a great opportunity. "But seriously, how cool would it be to say that you played poker in Deadwood, you know?" and so on. Twenty minutes later, he decided to turn around. I looked in the guidebook to find something that would occupy my time while he was off playing cards.

You know how things sometimes just fall into place? At 1:00 there would be a live action gun fight, showing the murder of Wild Bill Hicock. Adam and I parted ways, and I crowded into the back room of Saloon No. 10 (not the original, but the place where Wild Bill (better known as Calamity Jane's boyfriend) was killed). An actor began the show off by describing his (Wild Bill's) time in the army, as a Pony Express Rider, as a Wild West showman, and as a sheriff. He pulled into Deadwood and quickly began making friends and enemies. One day, he went into the Saloon No. 10 and wanted to join a poker game, but his seat (facing towards the door, so he could keep an eye out) was taken. He asked the man in his seat to move, and after some discussion and good natured ribbing, Wild Bill sat in another seat, with is back to the door. They played a couple of hands, and then the fateful hand was dealt. As Wild Bill sat there with his hand of Aces and eights (later known as the dead man's hand) he was shot by an outlaw who he had met a few days prior. Calamity Jane and he are now buried side by side in the Deadwood cemetery.


After the show was done, I headed out onto Main St to find Adam and warn him about the unlucky poker hand. I hoped it wasn't too late! He was sitting in the Gold Dust Gaming Parlor. He was having a good game, and I went to the nickel slots. I got carded, because apparently I look 16 with my hair in braids. I made friends with a girl sitting next to me from Colorado. After Adam's game, he came and found me raking in the dough at the slot machine. Our meter was up and we had to head out. I cashed out and gave my winnings ($1.90!!) to the gal next to me.

Heading out of Deadwood, we drove through the remainder of South Dakota and into Wyoming. We pulled off of 90 to check out Devils Tower. You may know of this fantastic national monument from the classic Spielberg movie "Close Encounters of the Third Kind," in which the main character makes a replica of Devils Tower from mashed potatoes. The Indians have a myth as to its spiritual creation. 7 young girls were being chased by grizzly bears. They climbed up a small hill and prayed to the gods that they would be saved. Their prayers were answered and the mountain grew. The bears, still attempting to capture the girls, scratched at the sides of the hill. The girls rose so high that they became stars, which we know as the Pleiades (7 sisters) constellation. What actually happened was much less exciting, and involves magma.On our way out of the park, we saw PRAIRIE DOGS! OMG! SO CUTE!!
Back on 90, we travelled further into Wyoming, stopping in a town called Gillette. Gillette is awesome because it's in the middle of literally no where but it has contemporary amenities such as Starbucks and Walmart. We stopped at the Walmart to get bacon and butter. The weather had gotten much chillier as we headed west, and Adam debated buying a sweatshirt. I told him it would probably be a good idea, considering that it was pretty cool.

We had picked out a campground in Bighorn Mountain National Park. I had picked up driving after Devils Tower. The thing is that the roads had been pretty smooth and straight the whole day we had been driving. I got on the highway and it started to rain. And then we hit construction. And then I almost got pulled over by a state trooper. And then got into the Bighorn Mountains. And then there was construction in the Bighorn Mountains.

Now, if you've never been out west, on a trip to Yellowstone, say, and never driven through the Bighorns, you might think that I'm kind of a pussy. But let me tell you about some of the signs I saw: Avoid Cracked Windshield, Fallen Rock, Road Damage Ahead, Sharp Curves, Open Stock, Brake Cooling Area, Steep Grade-Use Lower Gear, and my personal favorite, Runaway Truck Ramp. Driving around switchbacks, in the pitch black, with construction, and weather conditions such as rain and sleet, is pretty scary. Adam finally asked if he could drive once the construction resulted in a one-lane road. 15 minutes after he got behind the wheel (and after I had been driving through insane conditions) the construction ended, the road cleared up, and it was for the most part, straight. We decided to stop at the next campsite we saw. A National Park sign for "Five Springs Park" was off to our right, and Adam pulled in. We started driving up a very steep and windey road full of switchbacks and curves. 10 minutes of this, and I was about to curl into a ball to prepare for the impact of falling of a mountain. We saw a sign, Adam got out and decided that we would spend the night there. That was fine with me. I was going to stay on the top of the mountain for forever because I was not driving back down. Ever.

We drove up to the camping area, took the first site off the road, next to a stream, a really loud stream. We set up our tent, Adam kept saying things like "This is so incredible!" and "This is what I mean when I talk about "really camping." and so on. I drank the Sturgis beer and shivered as Adam tried to start the campfire. The campsite was really cold. Not just "oh man, its chilly for August" cold, like "oh my god, I hope we don't get hypothermia" cold. We stared at the stars after we decided that a fire wasn't going to happen due to the nature of the wet ground, despite Adam's best hatcheting efforts.

We saw two shooting stars, saw the milky way, saw more stars than I've ever seen in my life. The darkness was overwhelming and scary. We were the only people up on that mountain. As we huddled together for warmth in the tent, each with 3-4 layers of clothes on, I realized that drinking that beer before trying to sleep next to a roaring stream on a mountain top may have been a mistake.