Day 7: Spearfish Canyon

 In which we do our version of "taking it easy". 

After seven days on the road and four days in South Dakota, Mike and I had done a pretty thorough job of exploring the immediate vicinity. As you've probably noticed, we were burning a lot of energy in the process. Faced with a long drive home, with some more detours planned along the way, we agreed to take it easy on our last full day in the area.

The only thing left on our original to-do list was Spearfish Canyon, conveniently located about half an hour from the cabin. 

The morning was spent lounging around, sipping coffee, and letting Bonnie have her fill of romping around the yard. We didn't hit the road until 11am.

Bonnie blends into the blankets.

These two warmed my heart.

"We're going to die in the car, aren't we?"

Spearfish Canyon was undeniably beautiful. It's funny how the human mind works, though. When we first drove the back roads to the cabin, the scenery blew my mind. After seeing so many incredible vistas in such a short period of time, however, Spearfish Canyon felt somewhat tame. Now that we're home, I look back at these pictures and think, "Wow," but at the time, we were somewhat... used to it?

My online research revealed that Spearfish Canyon was one of the best places to see mountain goats. Mike and I kept our fingers crossed and our eyes peeled all day. We spent a lot of time playing Light-Colored-Rock-or-Goat? Spoiler: rock. Every time.

Our first stop of the day was Bridal Veil Falls, which was right along the road. There is a hiking trail to get to the falls, but we didn't pursue it. There wasn't much water going over the falls that week, but they were still beautiful.

Here, we saw another car with NJ plates!

I'm sure it's fine.

Much taller than it looks in the photo.

We kept up with our daily tradition of doing a short hike with Bonnie. Thursday's hike was to Devil's Bathtub (lots of devil names that week...) 

Devil’s Bathtub is a narrow slot canyon carved into the limestone by Spearfish Creek and its tributaries. Over thousands of years, rushing water has sculpted the rock into smooth chutes, little waterfalls, and deep, startlingly clear pools. The trail follows the creek into the canyon, crossing the water repeatedly before reaching the namesake “bathtub,” a natural basin where icy mountain water collects between the steep rock walls.

The hike was about two miles round trip. It wasn't a difficult hike by any means, but there was a lot of crossing back and forth across the creek, which involved some rock hopping and log climbing.

Not surprisingly, there were several people on the trail that day. We wound up leap frogging with a family. 

While we walked, Mike and I tried to decipher the group's dynamic. Our conclusion was that it was a set of grandparents, their son and daughter with respective spouses, and their infant grandchildren (one per set of children). The dads were carrying the babies in hiking backpacks, which was no small feat on this trail.

It seems like the family was mostly very outdoorsy except for the son's wife. She was clearly working hard to fit in. She was also visibly terrified. For some reason, the rest of the family wasn't doing much to help her along. They weren't being unkind. Just... unhelpful. 

At one point she froze in terror at a slippery log crossing. I could see her knees physically shaking from across the way. Mike couldn't take watching her suffer, and turned back. He offered her his hand and then basically lifted her across the creek. 

After that, we were basically hiking with them. I was relieved because watching the husbands teeter precariously with their babies perched on their backs was making me anxious. Mike was able to offer some stability and assistance. In the end, everybody made it up to the bathtub.

There was also a nice older couple hiking in front of us. We caught up to them at the tub, and they expressed surprise about the family group making it all the way up there. 

The landscape on this hike was the most similar to home out of everything we did in South Dakota. There were plenty of trees. The high canyon walls were impressive, but not alien in the way of the Badlands or Custer. At one point, I told Mike this reminded me of Watkins Glen in New York, except the waterfalls weren't as cool.

Still, it was a really beautiful walk, and Bonnie particularly seemed to enjoy herself. She was afraid to jump over some of the rushing water, but Mike helped her across and she gained confidence as we went. 

At the bathtub, I kicked off my shoes and waded into the icy water. It was both refreshing and exhilarating.

Beautiful, but could have been taken on the East Coast.

Mike being the gentleman he is.

Happy girl!

The hike back to the car seemed to go more quickly than the hike up, probably because we knew how far we had to go and the landmarks along the way.

We did have a moment of excitement on the way back when an off leash husky came running up to us. I don't love huskies to begin with (sorry!) and his body language gave me pause. I scooped Bonnie up while Mike blocked the path. 

The dog was accompanied by a herd of small children with no adult in sight. The kids were very polite and clearly used to navigating this trail with their canine companion. They were zero percent concerned by my shouting. 

It turns out the husky was friendly and we were in no danger, but it sure got my heart rate up! Part of it is definitely PTSD from previously owning dog-reactive dogs. Better safe than sorry, right?

Bonnie's camouflage is on point!

Our tour of Spearfish Canyon continued. While pulled over for another round of goat-or-rock, we ran into two nice ladies from Colorado. They informed us that their part of the country is full of mountain goats and gave us some recommendations for next time. In all seriousness, Colorado is very high on my list. 

All rocks. No goats.

Soon we reached Roughlock Falls. This beautiful multi-tiered waterfall is part of Little Spearfish Creek. Delicate ribbons of water tumble into pools below. Despite being very accessible, this area feels wonderfully secluded. 

Mike and I viewed the falls from both the top and bottom viewing platforms. The bottom vantage point was particularly fairytale-like. The canyon was lined with speedwell which gave everything an extra lush, green look.

Our tour of Spearfish Canyon was almost complete. The last stop was the set of the final scene of Dances With Wolves. This was so anticlimactic it was funny. The only evidence that anything ever happened at this spot was a single grassy parking spot and this sign:

Of course, this spot is meant to be viewed alongside the main film site at Fort Hays Old West Town. We did not have time for that attraction. Still, we watched Dances with Wolves when we got home, and it was actually really cool to watch the final scene and recognize the location. So even though it was silly at the time, I'm still glad we stopped.

Departing Spearfish Canyon, Mike and I began our hunt for a lunch spot. Originally, we found Boar's Nest, which looked very interesting and came highly recommended. Unfortunately, it turned out to be a cash-only joint, which was a dealbreaker for us on this day.

Fortunately, there was an equally cool-looking place just down the street. Lewie's Burgers and Brews sounded good and accepted plastic. Away we went.

Even thousands of miles from home, I can't escape work. One of our competitors was parked in the restaurant lot! 

It was lucky we had cell phone service at lunch. It turns out it was time for our daily dose of drama from home. 

Hannah had cared for the horses on Tuesday and Wednesday. Everything was fine then, but Hannah noted that the barn door, which she had shut securely, was slightly ajar the second day.

Eryca was caring for the horses on Thursday and stopped in to see them while I was enjoying my Dakota Burger and wings. At first, she texted to say that everything was fine, but a moment later she sent, "Everything is not fine! Booger and Lilly are out!"

They were on the neighbor's driveway, grazing loose. Eryca was in a panic and I called her to talk her down. The horses were easily apprehended and returned to their pasture. 

After that, Eryca and I did a video call in which she walked every single fence line and checked every single gate. Weirdly, everything was secured exactly the way it was supposed to be. 

If you told me Booger jumped out of the pasture, I'd believe you, but there's no way fat, 25 year old Lilly followed suit. 

Additionally, I had noticed a pattern over the last few years. Every time I did something to make the barn owner mad, the horses would magically get out. In hindsight, I really think this was intentional. 

With the barn owner allegedly in North Carolina, this development was extra alarming. In the end, I wound up contacting Hannah and having her run to the hardware store for padlocks and chains. Then, while feeling like a crazy person, I had her lock every access point into the pasture. 

Mike and I had a growing feeling of dread this spring regarding the barn, the horses, and the sustainability of the whole situation. I knew shit was likely going to hit the fan this year, but I couldn't have predicted just how it would pan out. This lunch while we were on vacation was definitely one of the tipping points.

Fortunately, the padlocks did the trick and nothing else suspicious happened on the farm until we got home. 

I know I keep saying this, but I am still so furious that the barn situation put such a damper on our trip. If I'd had a crystal ball, I would have moved Chip and walked away from the girls long before we planned our journey west. But you know what they say about hindsight...

Once the horses were contained and our lunch tab was paid, Mike and I tried for one more tourist attraction. Our successful ventures to Coolidge and Warren Peak got me searching for nearby lookout towers. I happened to find the Friendship Tower which was reportedly only ten minutes from our cabin and looked adorable. It was supposedly possible to drive right up to the tower for an excellent view of the Black Hills. 

This wound up being an epic fail. Our GPS could not figure out how to get us to the tower without going down private driveways or trails that were impassable by car. I'm still not sure how we were supposed to get there, but we eventually threw in the towel. I was disappointed, but I'd get over it.

Along the way, Mike and I got to see a new housing development being built in the mountains. This was definitely designed for a higher tax bracket than the one we're in, but it was cool to get the unofficial tour.

We returned to our own cabin around 5pm. This was the shortest and easiest day we'd had, and we were both content to just relax. The following day would be the start of our long journey home. Resting seemed like a good idea.

That night, we spent some time reviewing local travel guides. We had done a pretty thorough job of exploring the area. The only things I wanted to see that we didn't get to were the Friendship Tower, the Tatanka Story of Bison sculpture in town, and Wind Cave. 

Later in the evening, I finished the novel I'd brought along for the trip, which felt like the perfect icing on the cake. 

One last night in paradise.

The long hours of daylight added to the feeling of suspended time on this trip.

There was nothing else to report as we lounged about and fully enjoyed our accommodations for one last night. 

The following morning would feature an early start and a lot of ground to cover with no real plan in place. But more on that later...