Finding "home" in darkness will never be easy. Obvious signs shrouded by oncoming head lights, sketchy dirt roads being private, and horrible maps with no scale or markers all make the task its own dilemma. Thankfully I did slightly plan ahead by download a map of America to my phone before the trip, knowing that GPS will work even cell signal won't.
After a few questionable turns and slow driving, the trail head turn off presented it self. The parking area adorned with signs of the infamous (or famous?) no camping sign. I was exhausted and planning for an early wake up tomorrow, I knew I only had to be awake 30 seconds before a ranger showing up to be in the clear, a gamble that was well worth not having to keep hunting.
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The 6 am alarm screaming in my ear, the snooze button found blindly. Five more minutes. Another 5. The last 5...a car rolls up. I'm awake now. Peering slowly over my window, heart racing for the first time in weeks, I held my breath. The Silver Chevy slowly rolled up, rocks cracking under its tires, my eyes darting around, mind thinking quick. No markings until, I spotted it.
Manitoba license plates.
I breathed in, head fell to pillow, heart returning to a normal pounding. I guess it was time to get up, thoroughly awake now and vowing not to hit snooze for a long time to come. The air cold and humid, damp grass greeted my feet, sending chills up my legs as they learned to walk. Packing my bag for the day with food, water, camera and rain gear, breakfast was quick and dense.
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| If you look closely in the middle left, there's a small tower, that's where I'm going. |
The 7 am air felt great in my lungs, lighting a fire of excitement of the day to come. The thrill of having survived the morning stoking the flames. The steady beat of my boots on the trail complimented by the wind whistling through the trees and rhythm section completed by birds waking up with me. I was about to summit the highest point between the Alps and the Rockies,
Harney Peak.
Moving swift with my light pack and warm muscles, I felt a sense of euphoria that I hadn't since waking up in the Tetons, which was just last week, almost to the day. At some points nearly running, the pace felt great. The grade not as steep as the visitor center guide had warned, and I was higher now than I had ever been from anything in Colorado. A few stops for photo opts, I only saw 2 couples before the turn off for the summit, one warning me of the crowds that would come later in the day.
A cut off trail and later tie offs for horses, the summit adorned with the stair master 200 to reach the official peak, and I wasn't stopping until I reached the top. With burning legs, gasping lungs and a pounding heart jumping up my throat, I made it, 7244 ft and a grand view.
Sweat pouring off my face, being soaked up by my shirt and a cool breeze to amplify the chill of my sweat, a great reward for today summit at only 945 am. So much for taking the hard way, though I was officially only a quarter around the loop I had decided to take.
I took an hour at the peak for various activities. First was attempting photos from the top of the tower followed by copious shots of the family of mountain goats that decided to have breakfast with us. They were extremely calm with the handful of people respecting their distance while also furiously hitting their camera's shutter button. Even being graced with a man and his bagpipes. Still morning, an apple sufficed and I began the descent; stomach happy and knees not nearly as much.
On the trail down, not more than 15 minutes, I realized just what the couple from the morning had warned of as troves of people began passing me on the way up. The natural music of my morning was now gone, replaced by synthetic sound booming from personal speakers, crying kids and yelling of trip leaders. Nature was gone, traded for a transplanted city. I gladly greeted all who passed with a smile and encouragement that the summit wasn't far off. My stiff pace of the morning slower in an effort to save my knees even with a much flatter trail than before.
Arriving at the cutoff for my return trail, it seemed as if the last time it was used was when it was made. A fallen tree literally on the trail required some fun Japanese-game-show-contortion to get through. The trail again silent, my mind and ears happy, the pace quickened as my spirits lifted and sanity slowly returning. I began to walk just shy of a jog; speed walking through the barely visible trail filled with waist high grass, horse poop and silence.
The pace was incredible, I was high again and everything felt at peace. I stayed this course for nearly 2 hours before starting to wonder. There had been no other people, no trail markers, and no sign that I was even going in the right direction, but I pushed on, knowing, hoping, that the next switchback would change that.
Except it never did. The fear that I might have taken a side trail began to creep into my head. Knowing I could turn back, I refused to knowing that I hadn't messed up that bad. But my legs were tired, feet hot and high gone, food and map would hopefully cure. Thanks to my phone GPS and trail map, I found I was much farther along than I had anticipated, nearly finished actually!
Spirits and tummy rejuvenated I again set off, only stopping again to give the same couple from the morning directions as they had taken a wrong turn and needed help getting back. With the final turn, the trail head and my car came to sight, cheering in my head. I had made it.
30,000 steps, 11 miles, 2,000 feet of elevation gain and only 2 in the afternoon.
It was time for some rest and food before heading off to Rapid City for the evening music festival. A quesadilla seemed a fitting reward and tasted better than any 5 course meal ever will. Hunger is the best spice. Happy and I set off for Rapid City, taking a detour to Pactola Reservoir to rise off so I didn't smell like absolute garbage wandering around the festival.
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| Helicopter for scale |
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Like all great plans, there was a weak point. Something simple that is rarely accounted for, usually over looked due to lack of knowledge. This time, it happened to be the copious amounts of rain that the whole country, minus California, has been getting, causing high waters that only grand parents remember. As a result, all beaches at the reservoir were closed until further notice.
Great.
I pushed forward to Rapid City anyways. So what if I smelled like crap, I live in my car, what do you want? Rolling in to town, this was my first big city since Denver. The pristine parks, smooth roads and more than 3 traffic lights were welcoming as I followed signs for historic downtown on the assumption that the festival would be there. This time, my assumption didn't make an ass of me.
I grabbed my bag, intending to do some work outside a cafe with the live music as my back drop, I found a small coffee shop and wandered in for dinner. But not before being sucked into the local gear shop that I'm a sucker for window shopping at. Who do I run into except for Jess! The tour guide from yesterday and her parents. We exchanged pleasantries and bid each other adieu. I made it to the coffee shop and proceeded to set up camp when again, Jess and her mom popped up.
Stalkers.
An invited to join me at my table lead to hours of conversation getting to know one another; past present and future. Their dad having phone problems restricted them here and conversation flowed easily with both of us having similar interests and traveling upbringings. Their dad finally got the phone stuff sorted out and they again left for their own dinner. Another connection made for later in the trip.
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Getting kicked out of the coffee shop at 8:30 meant no work would be done this evening. I dropped my bag off at my car (er, home?) and wandered into the festival to get some shots. Having a blast with the last half hour once the concert ended people began to filter back to their cars and go home.
Home. Crap.
I don't have a place to sleep tonight, and being in an urban environment, this wasn't going to be like the past week. I had to be more thoughtful of where I stayed; a random street and mad home owner could mean bad news. Thinking quick and "logically" I remembered being in this situation before and having two choices. A) find a park, sleep across the street and hope for the best. B) Walmart.
Yes!
As much as I loath their business practices, I love that I can leech off them as a guaranteed safe place to sleep, as well as a bathroom. Hoping Rapid City was large enough to host such a place, again my gamble paid off, only 2 miles away.
To my excitement, there is even a designated area in the parking lot filled with RV's, semi-trucks and other cars with covered windows, all there for the night. This was great. I could go in, wash my sweat crusted face and hair, fill up my water bottle and have evening wifi!
Definition: Luxury.
With that, my second day came to a close, excited for how great the day had been, and for what the rest of the week may hold.
As always, you can see all the photos by visiting my
Flickr account here
