So, the time has come to tell the tale of another trip to Yellowstone. Obviously, the big thing that made this trip different from my previous ones was that it was with Emily (!). It’s officially the longest trip that we’ve ever taken together (so far), both in terms of duration and in terms of distance traveled (but only until next year, when we finally go to Italy). I had wanted to take Emily out there…well, almost ever since my last trip, which took place just a few weeks after we met—although at that point, of course, I didn’t actually know how much a part of my future she might, or might not, turn out to be. But I do remember an occasion, pretty early on in our relationship (though I can’t recall exactly when), when I was telling her about my trip, and she ventured to say “Take me there sometime?” That sounded like fun to me, and the hope that it might eventually happen stuck in my brain. Later, though, when I started bringing up the idea of actually planning a trip there, I found that she needed a bit of convincing. In particular, I think, the long road trip out there wasn’t very appealing to her, and she was very inclined toward the view that other, closer destinations that she had never been to ought to be prioritized…or at least included in our plans. Emily had actually been to Yellowstone once before, but only for part of one day; as far as she remembers, she saw Old Faithful, then drove through the park en route to the Beartooth Highway, and that was about it. Also, this was 29 years ago…and rather than driving all the way out there from Minnesota (or Wisconsin), she flew to Montana and drove from there. So Yellowstone wasn’t 100% new to her, but it was mostly new (newer, even, than it was to me in 2009, when I went as an adult for the first time, but had prior memories of it from a short visit as part of a boy scout trip in 1988 at the age of 14). But pretty much everything between Minnesota and Yellowstone was uncharted territory for her. Thus, both to break up the long stretches of highway travel and to take advantage of the opportunity to visit some places that she had never been before, we decided to take the South Dakota route rather than my customary North Dakota one (even though it’s actually longer overall), and to spend a day in the Badlands and Black Hills areas in between the two full-on road tripping days that it would take to a) get to that area, and then b) get from there to Yellowstone. For my part, of course, I’d been to the Black Hills thrice before (in fact, some of my very earliest memories, period, come from the trip that my parents and I took out there when I was 3 years old!), but the most recent of these times was every bit as long ago as Emily’s prior visit to Yellowstone (1996, 29 years ago). So, some time in that area had its appeal for me as well.
We also knew ahead of time that, in some respects, we have some different preferences when it comes to road tripping. For me, even though it can get wearing, the road trip is actually part of the fun…but also, I tend to favor getting an early start and burning through the miles, with stops kept to a relative minimum, so as to ensure arrival at each day’s destination with plenty of time for campsite setup, meal prep, and end-of-day relaxation. I knew going in that Emily was going to want more/longer stops, and in general more of a relaxed approach to the travel itself, even if it meant getting there later and having less of the leisurely evening time that I normally strive for. Knowing this, I tried to approach the trip with a flexible mindset—and, indeed, we did take the road tripping at a much more leisurely pace than has ever been the norm for me in the past. I can’t really report that my determination to be flexible about this did much to prevent me from feeling frustrated and stressed out at the points when we ended up arriving at our day’s destination after dark, or a bit disappointed at the number of times that we ended up buying dinner instead of cooking our own over a campfire. But I wanted the trip to be fun for both of us, so some compromises were necessary. Also, though, with this being my first experience towing a camper on a major road trip like this, some of my estimates of driving times were probably unrealistic to begin with, and that was also a factor, at times, in “getting there” later than I had envisioned. None of this kept the trip from being a ton of fun, but there was also some frustration (at least for me), and definitely some lessons learned for future trips.
But anyway: We hit the road around 8:00 am on Friday, July 25th, heading south out of the metro area on Highway 169, from which we would take various other highways to eventually connect with I-90 in Worthington. Our first pause came when we had scarcely even put the cities behind us, because, since we were passing through Jordan, MN, Emily wanted to stop at Minnesota’s Largest Candy Store (a place that she knew and had told me about before, and from which Cal had, a while back, purchased some allegedly Mountain Dew flavored popcorn for me). It was pretty cool (if in a “capitalistic excess” sort of way), and we bought some intriguing treats (weird flavors of soda, mostly) and took a few dorky photos (and an even dorkier video).
Our (picnic) lunch stop, a few hours later, was at a little park in Windom, MN. There was a lake (Cottonwood Lake) with a beach. It was nice. On most of my previous trips to Yellowstone, my overnight stop on the way out and back has been at Theodore Roosevelt National Park, where the campground is called Cottonwood. We weren’t going there on this trip, but I reflected that it felt right to stop at someplace with “Cottonwood” in its name on the first day of a trip to Yellowstone.
After lunch, it was back on the road. We made our way to the interstate, and in due course we crossed into South Dakota. When we got to Mitchell, though, we did have to stop at the Corn Palace. Emily had never been; I think I was there once, many years ago (probably as a teenager? not sure). I did kind of remember having the opinion that it wasn’t anything terribly special, and I would say that our visit confirmed me in that opinion. I mean, sure, the history is kind of interesting, but there’s really not much of note to actually see. If I’m being honest, this stop wasn’t worth the amount of time that it took up, at least for me.
Our overnight stop was at the KOA campground in the Badlands. I would have preferred, naturally, to stay at a campground within the national park, but there had been no availability when I was planning the trip, so KOA would have to do. Incidentally, this was the KOA that I had intended to stay at on my way home from Yellowstone on my last (2021) trip (the only other time that I have ever made the drive between home and Yellowstone (albeit in the other direction) via South Dakota rather than North Dakota), before car trouble ended up stranding me in Rapid City. Unlike their North Dakota counterpart, South Dakota’s Badlands can’t really be seen from the interstate, so I didn’t even end up getting to see them on that trip. So, when we left the interstate and ventured onto the Badlands loop road on this evening, it was (as noted earlier) my first time seeing them since 1996, and Emily’s first time ever. We were both duly impressed, but we were also in a hurry to get to the campground, since the sun was already low in the sky. Indeed, we did wind up setting up in the dark (and as a result, I didn’t take a picture of our first night’s campsite at all). I still made a fire and cooked the hobo dinners that I had prepared at home, though, so that was good.
The following morning, we started the day with some Badlands sightseeing and hiking! We didn’t have a vast amount of time to spend at this—partly because we had other goals for the day, but even more so because we opted to leave Lucinda (i.e. the camper) behind, but of course would need to get back to the campsite and retrieve her before checkout time. So, after a stop at the visitor center for information, we decided to hike the Cliff Shelf Nature Trail (described as less than a mile round-trip, consisting of a combination of boardwalks and “natural paths” that climb 200 feet along “the Badlands Wall”). We soon discovered that there were various little (unofficial?) mini-trails branching off from the main trail, and we explored some of these. Juniper trees were everywhere, and things were generally badlandy. It was fun! Afterwards, we still had a little time, so we drove a little farther “back” up the loop road to a parking area that serves two very short and very popular boardwalk-type trails known as “Door Trail” and “Window Trail.” If I’m not mistaken, we walked “Window Trail.” Here, the scenery was even more breathtaking than on the previous trail.
In the visitor center, Emily had spotted a funny book called Subpar Parks: America’s Most Extraordinary National Parks and Their Least Impressed Visitors. It’s basically a collection of humorously negative assessments by (apparently) horribly jaded visitors to various amazing places. Some people, I guess, just aren’t into nature/scenery. I think the entry for the Badlands had someone commenting that the thing that was “bad” about them was “the entire experience.” Anyway, it got us talking about how a place like the Badlands is, on one level, just plain weird-looking in a way that is different from anything that one experiences in everyday life (I mean, unless you live there!), which is cool—but also, if you take the time to contemplate it as you’re seeing it…to think and learn about how and why it came to be what it is, and to really take it in and let it awe you…it’s even cooler. Maybe, if you are the sort of person who expects to be actively “entertained” by everything (while you yourself remain passive and don’t have to do much thinking), a place that’s notable mainly for weird-looking rocks won’t impress you very much. But if you’re open to wonder, and willing to put in some effort in order to get something out of an experience… I mean, duh. Except, also…how can you see some of these views and just not be impressed?
Badlands appreciation accomplished, we collected Lucinda (Lucy, for short) and drove the rest of the loop road, which rejoins the interstate in Wall. Now, personally, I would have been happy to fully give Wall Drug a miss. But Emily wanted to check it out (and eat lunch in the “cafe”), so I rolled with it. We ate, we perused. I won’t say that there was nothing remotely interesting to me about it (one can usually find amusing trinkets and stuff in gift-shoppy places, and I made the best of it), but here, unlike in the Badlands, I was unimpressed. If the candy store had struck me as a bit on the “capitalism run amok” side of things the previous day, Wall Drug is that on steroids. It did very little for me, and it even irks me a little the way this famous-just-for-being-famous manufactured tourist attraction, which is actually just a big place to shop for junk, has capitalized on its location and become as much of (or even more of?) a “thing,” to many, as/than the actual Badlands. To each their own, I guess…but Wall Drug is definitely not my thing.
Eventually, we jumped back into the car and headed for the Black Hills (Custer State Park). As we drove into the lushly forested hills, Emily made the observation that while the Badlands had, indeed, been cool to see, this sort of nature was much more to her taste. I fully agreed; it just felt so soothing, and peaceful, and inviting. (Admittedly, I may have felt this especially intensely due to the immediate contrast with the overstimulation that I had experienced in the crowds and general mayhem of Wall Drug.) Our immediate destination was Blue Bell Campground, where we would be staying the night. We made our way there, and got ourselves set up (this time, happily, in daylight).
I had hoped to drive Needles Highway, maybe go for a dip at Sylvan Lake, and then return to the campsite and do the whole campfire and dinner thing. However, by the time we were there and set up, it was already 4:30 or so. Emily, though, had the bright idea of making the excursion anyway, and packing a picnic dinner to bring along and eat at Sylvan Lake, so that’s what we decided to do. The drive, of course, was super-cool, but…well, pretty different from how I had remembered it, I guess. For one thing, in my mind, I was picturing needles along the entirety of the drive; also I had thought there were a whole bunch of tunnels. Admittedly, the latter impression was largely based on how much of an impression the tunnels made on me at the age of 3; also, I eventually learned that there are other drives with tunnels in addition to Needles Highway, so my lifelong memories of Mom and Dad making a whole experience of them for little me (“One-lane tunnel! Beep beep!”) perhaps genuinely do arise from more than just the two tunnels on this drive. The reality of Needles Highway is that most of it is “just” a scenic windy drive through the pines; the needles don’t make an appearance until near the end, and are really just in one small area. None of this, though, means that they aren’t still extremely cool!
I’m pretty sure that my parents and siblings (or at least some of them?) harbor fond memories that I, mostly, don’t, of a family visit (probably during the 1992 Black Hills trip, which I was along for but maybe a bit checked out from?) to Sylvan Lake. I know that I’ve heard at least some family members reminisce about it over the years, anyway. Also, I believe that some of my sibs have been there since, with their families. For myself, I had a general notion of it being a cool place, but not much in the way of direct memories of it. Well, I do now! It is, indeed, a beautiful (and fun!) spot. After enjoying the needles, we drove the rest of the way there, claimed a picnic table, and ate our dinner. The sun was already starting to set by the time we were done eating, and we fretted a little about how late we had let it get before getting into the water, but we needn’t have; it seemed cold as we were wading in, but once we went for it, it actually felt wonderful. We swam out to, and around, the big rock formations in the lake, and had a blast!
After our swim, it was back down Needles Highway to the campground with us. It was good and dark by the time we got there, but that was okay, since of course we were already set up and had already eaten dinner. Time for bed!
On the morning of day three of the trip, after we’d packed up but before we hit the road, it became important to make a sign near our campsite feel useful by giving it something to illustrate.
Thereafter, this day was pretty much just about covering the rest of the distance and getting ourselves to Yellowstone. We made a brief stop in Custer, SD for coffee (at a place called Calamity Jane), and another for a picnic lunch at a park in Gillette, WY. Later, after leaving the interstate in Buffalo, WY, there were mountains that I did not remember from my drive home this way four years ago. (I remembered that parts of the drive through Wyoming had been impressive, but I’d thought that had mainly been farther west, closer to Yellowstone—and for sure, I did not remember switchbacking up and down through full-on mountains!) We did pull off the road at one point to take in the scenery, but it seems that we did not take any pictures (the two above are the only ones that we took this entire day, apparently). Once we got through those mountains, there was a bathroom and ice cream stop in Worland, WY, at a nifty little pizza and ice cream place, where we both opted for the huckleberry ice cream. From there, the route to Cody got a bit obscure and back-road-y, especially when we missed some turn or other and ended up instead taking a really, really middle-of-nowhere little road, which was unpaved for a 14-mile stretch and had ridiculously bumpy sections. I mean, there were scarcely any signs of human civilization along this road, apart from the existence of the road itself. But eventually, it brought us to US Highways 14/16/20 not far from Cody.
The drive from Cody to Yellowstone, which takes about an hour, does also go through mountains (the Absarokas), and this was the part of the drive that I did remember from 2021. It’s beautiful country, and my excitement was getting pretty high as we finally neared Yellowstone, but also, we were tired from traveling and eager to get there (and, once again, looking at a lamentably late arrival time; in fact, we had grabbed a Taco John’s dinner in Cody, knowing that we would not be making it to the campground until well past any vaguely reasonable dinnertime). When we reached the park entrance, we found it not even staffed (too late in the day already, I guess), and it crossed our minds to wonder what the situation would be like when we got to our campground (but we’d just have to cross that bridge when we came to it, we figured). We’d be staying at Grant, so from the east entrance, our route took us west (duh) to the shores of Yellowstone Lake, then around a significant chunk of said lake as we proceeded to Fishing Bridge and then down the main (southern) loop road to where the road to the south entrance (and the Tetons) forks off. Yet again, it was fully dark by the time we finally rolled into Grant Village; happily, though, the campground office was still open. After being assigned a site (in Loop I, for the record—an area of the campground that the woman behind the window assured us was lovely), we got to have the “fun” of trying to back the camper into said site in the dark (something we’d been spared when setting up in the dark two nights before, in the Badlands, where we’d had a pull-thru site). We managed it, though, and got ourselves set up and put to bed as quickly as we could. We were in Yellowstone!
