“One traveler’s conceit is that he is heading into the unknown. The best travel is a leap in the dark. If the destination were familiar and friendly, what would be the point in going there?” – Paul Theroux
Three days in. We are still very much newbies to the camping life. We decided to spend an extra night in Iowa at Ledge’s State Park due to the fact that we were just getting our feet under us. We were testing out all our gear, getting to know our home for the next few months. Ledges was a perfect training ground, though we were running off battery and we had to troubleshoot a few things. Like the battery draining quicker then normal (disconnect the 7-prong coupler) and the electrical outlets not accepting plugs (they only work when plugged into shore power). It’s humbling what novices we are.
We decided to take the scenic byways to the Badlands, both agreeing that it was of primary importance to us to see the country and interstates, while tempting in their efficiency, offered nothing but boredom and monotony. So we went a bit out of our way and took the Loess Ness Scenic Byways through southwest Iowa. We were glad we did. About 85 % of Iowa is devoted to farmland and while most is flat, this corner of the state is abutted by magnificent rolling hills. The best part was a random stop to grab a snack. We ended up ordering the 5,000 calorie pork tenderloin sandwich, a gargantuan slab of hammered tenderloin fried to crispy goodness and served on a bun that is laughably small. It was surprisingly good, we had read Jane Stern’s book Road Food and condescendingly laughed at the places she suggested, all unhealthy fried stuff, not for US. Ha. That sandwich was damn good.
We ended up taking another back road through Nebraska, Highway 20, but it was in such bad shape that we picked an alternate even slower route that had us arriving in the Badlands at dusk. As we approached the area, the sky became hazy and increasingly dark. The sun was a glowing red ball high in the sky. Apparently smoke from the fires in Montana had been blowing in the last few days. Our first glimpse of the awe-inspiring crags of the Badland Wall was through this eerie hue. We rolled down our windows, it was so quiet. We passed not a soul. It was unusually still, the light cast a milky orange glow over the landscape. It felt like we had landed on another planet, I half expected to see tiny aliens emerge from the crevices. Mark and I didn’t speak while the road serpentined its way through the labyrinth until we arrived at our campground for the next two nights. Exhausted, we set up camp and quickly made fajitas from the leftover flank steak we grilled the night before. I was excited to explore this wild and inhospitable place the next few days.