The trail rises and falls over several miles to the back side of low mountain that is Harney Peak. There begins the climb. Elevation rises approximately 1,100 feet over the last mile or so of the 3.5 mile one-way trip to the 7,242 foot summit.

We got off to a late start on our hike. It was to be 103 in Rapid City that day, and it was already well into the 80s at Sylvan Lake. So at 11:00 am we began our journey. For my wife and I it was the third journey to the summit. For our young daughter, it was the first climb. We told her that we were going to climb a little mountain. She insisted that she wanted to climb a big mountain instead. On this day, Harney Peak was big enough.

Despite our multiple journeys on this trail, we really forgot how beautiful the lower portion of the trail is. The journey winds through a pine forest that smells wonderful. There are wildflowers scattered among the trees and the huge lichen laden granite boulders. We almost turned back a couple of times. Our daughter was done before we got two miles into the trail. It was still two miles out and we had yet to begin the major climbing. I wanted to give it a shot, though, so I packed our daughter into her pack high on my back and pushed on in the heat.

In Sioux mythology, Harney Peak is the center of the world, as it was in Black Elk’s grand vision. From the top of Harney Peak, you can understand why it is viewed this way. The grand vista surrounds the peak and falls away in concentric circles stretching toward the horizon.

I looked ahead and saw the mountains there with rocks and forests on them, and from the mountains flashed all colors upward to the heavens. Then I was standing on the highest mountain of them all, and round about beneath me was the whole hoop of the world. And while I stood there I saw more than I can tell and I understood more than I saw; for I was seeing in a sacred manner the shapes of all things in the spirit, and the shape of all shapes as they must live together like one being. And I saw that the sacred hoop of my people was one of many hoops that made one circle, wide as daylight and as starlight, and in the center grew one mighty flowering tree to shelter all the children of one mother and one father. And I saw that it was holy

Nicholas Black Elk
as told by John G. Neihardt

I have always enjoyed hiking. Once you get going there is a kind of rhythm, the placing of one foot in front of another. In that rhythm there becomes an openness and an awareness. Instead of tunneling vision ahead and down the trail, it opens so you can see at the edges of perception. I should have been tiring in that climb and in that heat, but I was not. I entered that rhythm and that perception, but then there was something more.

Late in life, Black Elk was taken to the top of Harney Peak once more. He stepped out on to that flat plateau at the peak and began to sing. It was a cloudless and hot day. There he stood, looking out from that height, his song growing in intensity as if the spirits began to join him in song. All his ancestors in one chorus filled the circles below with their song. Clouds began to gather. Thunder crackled in the distance as if a thunderbird had just been unleashed. Soon it began to rain. A heavy, drenching downpour of rain cooled the rock beneath his feet. Then the song ended. As fast as the clouds gathered, they departed.

I told my daughter this story amidst the rhythm of that climb. With each breath I gained more strength. I wanted her to see what Black Elk had seen. I wanted her to hear his song carried on the wind.

Then the summit, the fire lookout, and lunch. I sat for a long while looking across the great distance at the granite spires and what lay beyond. It is truly spectacular at the top. I listened to the wind, a cooling breeze on a hot cloudless day.

Then, we descended. Whatever source of strength there was in the climb, it retreated upon the descent. We were exhausted and extremely thirsty when we arrived at Sylvan Lake. In our dreams that night, I’m sure that all of us saw that grand view and heard a certain whisper in the wind.

Other Road Trip 2007 Posts
Great Plains: A Journey Across South Dakota

I know some refer to this portion of the country as the breadbasket, but the region is semi-arid, and often has hot dry winds in the summer that quickly evaporate precipitation. There would be very few crops in the region if that land was not irrigated or supplied with ground water pumped up from the Ogallala Aquifer.

Often when I’m traveling through a landscape, I try to imagine what the land would have looked like long ago. What did the wild grasslands look like before they were plowed under? What wildlife lived here before? In many ways, the Great Plains are unchanged. There are not huge skyscrapers, no vast parking lots, and no vast quantities of suburban homes. There are sky, fields, livestock, fences, and this highway running through.

Three hundred years ago, the fields were different. The grasslands had deep roots to survive the droughts and bitterly cold winters. The animals were different. There were no cattle ranches, and bison roamed the land. Bison are completely adapted for living in this environment, and can survive the harsh winters. The fences would have not existed 300 years ago, and there would be no interruption of highways. Finally there would have been people on the plains. Probably many more than are there now. They would have been following the bison herds. Maybe a bit idealized, but that’s what I was imagining as we raced across I-90 toward the Black Hills.

In the desolation, you notice the billboards. They are not obtrusive, but you can’t help but notice. You get the Wall Drug ones right away, even though Wall, South Dakota is over 300 miles away. You also see the signs for the Corn Palace in Mitchell, South Dakota. With that great big sky, those empty fields, and few places to stop in between, we felt compelled to check both places out.

The Corn Palace is actually a civic center for the city of Mitchell. It was well over 100 degrees when we visited, so we enjoyed the air-conditioning inside. Outside and across the street are several western-style shops with a small park between. It was a great place to rest along our journey. The exterior of the corn palace is pretty remarkable. Every year they do a new design, all in corn. So if you are ever traveling across I-90 in South Dakota, you won’t be able to help yourself. The strange siren song of the Corn Palace will require you to stop and check it out.

If you feel compelled to stop at the Corn Palace, Wall Drug is something completely different. In American Gods by Neil Gaiman, the author describes roadside attractions as places of power. At Wall Drug, you can feel that power. It is as if you would have to stop there even if there wasn’t a completely odd drug store located there. Wall, South Dakota is located at the northern edge of the Badlands, and it’s like the whole spiritual power of the Badlands somehow gets focused at that location. Maybe that power provided the inspiration for the creation that is Wall Drug. There can be no other explanation for this place.

Wall Drug is a combination drug store, restaurant, cowboy-themed department store, and amusement park complete with eerie dioramas and actual sized mechanical dinosaurs. They offer free ice water, which is quite important in the arid, windswept plains of the Badlands. We enjoyed our meal at the restaurant, surrounded by western paintings that seemed almost alien in their quality. Our daughter loved riding the dinosaur-sized plastic jackelope in the courtyard. In fact, she really did not want to leave that place. Who could blame her? If you were wandering north of the Badlands 300 years ago on that empty plain, you would step on to the site that is now Wall Drug and you would feel like you had arrived someplace very important. Maybe you would sit and meditate for a while. What strange visions would come…

Other Road Trip 2007 Posts
Harney Peak or A Journey to the Top of Black Elk Mountain

There is a path near Mount Rushmore that leads to the base of the sculpture. This is a view from that path.

A direct view of Mount Rushmore from the visitor’s center.

Dan and I headed north with Muir Woods as our destination for the day. We stopped at a scenic overlook near the Golden Gate Bridge on our way north. The overlook offered magnificent views, several T-shirt vendors, and a large slice of a redwood tree.

As we made our way back to our car, I had Dan pose next to the section of trunk. It was taller than he was and unbelievably ancient. Our anticipation grew – if a dead tree was this incredible, the living things must be even more spectacular.
One of the interesting things about San Francisco is that once you drive out of the city, there’s not much in the way of population or urban sprawl like we’re used to in St. Louis. The winding roads that we took to get to Muir Woods were surprisingly quiet and scenic.

Our book on the bay area had warned that parking might be a challenge at this National Park. This was true, but since we arrived early it wasn’t too bad. We heard conversations in several different languages as we walked to the main park entrance.

So here we were. Muir Woods. The only old-growth forest in the Bay area and one of the last ones on Earth. Once, 2 million – million – acres of redwoods covered a narrow strip of the California and Oregon coast. Today 97% of these old growth forest are gone, or changed forever. Congressman William Kent and his wife, Elizabeth Thatcher Kent had enormous foresight. They paid $45,000 for just 295 acres in 1905. Recognizing the beauty and importance of this area, the Kents donated the land to the United States Federal Government and. President Theodore Roosevelt declared it a national monument
in 1908.

We tried to take decent pictures of these gigantic 600 – 1100 year old
trees, however, it’s impossible to adequately portray them on film (or
pixels). We tried, though. The tallest redwood at Muir Woods is 258 feet. Further up north, they get even larger – up to nearly 370 feet. According to the National Park Service’s web site, this is 60 feet taller than the Statue of Liberty.

So, Dan bought a “grow your own redwood” kit at the gift shop. The seeds are tiny. The included “greenhouse” is about 6 inches tall. We have to plant the seeds and then leave them in the refrigerator for a month before exposing them to warmth and sunlight in order to get them to sprout.

(Originally posted in 2000 by Bethany)

Perhaps the feeling of pride is diminished by where the monument is located. The Black Hills were sacred ground to both the Sioux and Cheyenne. The U.S. military drove both groups from the Black Hills, violating a treaty that was less than a decade old when gold was discovered in the area. Just east of the Black Hills is the site of Wounded Knee. Here women and children of the Sioux were slaughtered well after the Sioux were relocated to reservations (1890). Some of the most shameful atrocities in all of U.S. history occurred in this region.

Back to the great American monument. I found it odd listening to the mythology machines at the visitor’s center paint the great patriot, Gutzon Borglum. They off-handedly mention that he learned to carve granite on another project. My wife leaned over to note that this was Stone Mountain. Stone Mountain is the largest relief carving in the world, honoring the heroes of the Confederacy. You will not find this information anywhere near Mt. Rushmore. We did not visit the museum nearby, but I wonder if they note his membership in the Ku Klux Klan.

One more odd thing about Rushmore, you will actually hear this several times while visiting: “Roosevelt, why the hell is he up there?” The park almost seems to apologize for this, “He opened the west…” Really, I thought the Indian killers, pirates, and thieves did that.

The monument was worth seeing. The Black Hills are beautiful, even when carved with irony.

Later that afternoon, the U.S. defeated China in penalty kicks–I did feel proud to be an American that day.

(Originally posted in 1999 by Dan)

The drive towards Custer State Park brought many spectacular views from the tops of hills, through tunnels carved out of granite. These hills gradually gave way to prairie. This prairie was bordered by the remains of a forest, trees stripped of anything horizontal by a forest fire. It was an eerie scene resembling the scattering of monochromatic pick-up-sticks. A roadside sign places the fire in the summer of 1987. Ponderosa pine seedlings were just starting to take shape amidst the old forest remains.

Bethany was starting to get excited. We knew we were close. We started seeing signs:

Then a buffalo up ahead. Bethany got out of the car and approached it. What a majestic animal! They can outrun a horse. Their weight can exceed one ton. I can’t imagine another animal that size is as agile. I remember park rangers in Yellowstone as a child explaining that buffalo in the park were far more dangerous than bears. Bethany was out of the car, just across a two-lane road from this beast, a beautiful and dangerous beast. I was pleading with her to stay the hell away from it. The buffalo was used to this, but I wasn’t! I was making sure I had at least an automobile between him and me. Bethany was less than 15 feet away leaning into a photo, getting different angles. I need to get her a zoom lens! Finally, she gets her required photos and we continue on.

The first lone buffalo was only a hint of what we would soon find. The whole herd, a few thousand buffalo, trotting along the road. It was incredible. They were setting a pretty good pace, the mothers and their young calves. I could only imagine what the plains must have been like—from Ohio to the Rockies—with thousands of herds of thousands prior to being hunted to the brink of extinction. This was a true highlight of our trip.

And isn’t it ironic about the name..?

(Originally posted in 1999 by Dan)

Some of the places we visited in the Black Hills were considered sacred by the Sioux. The Hills also had spiritual and religious meaning for other tribes of the Great Plains. The land is beautiful and could have spiritual meaning for those not of the native traditions as well.

As a footnote to the Sioux displacement story:
Just prior to our visit to the Black Hills, President Clinton had visited the town of Pine Ridge, a mostly Sioux community, as part of his tour of the most poverty-stricken areas of the country. The Sioux economy, prior to European displacement, relied heavily on the big game of the plains (Bison, etc.). The Bison are mostly gone now. I wonder at the void that must exist when ties with the land are severed. I wonder at what our culture has missed, being so far removed for so long.

(Originally posted in 1999 by Dan)

OdysseyRoad was born during our trip to South Dakota in 1999. We took some notes and many photos and then began our site. Hopefully our experiences will help enrich your own.

Hopefully the weblog format will be more interactive than our previous site. As we post our previous articles and add new categories over the next several weeks, we will also be making this site more our own.