The Badlands of South Dakota
Keystone
We rented a Jeep Rubicon at the Rapid City, South Dakota airport. As we drove it off the property, a herd of deer slowly staggered across the road as drivers waited patiently for them to cross. As soon as they reached the grass on the other side they bounded off, jumping on all fours, as fast as they could.
We decided to stay in Keystone, population 240, because it’s the closest town to Mt. Rushmore. Driving through it, we worried we might not find any restaurants open. Everything was “closed for the season”. We got to the hotel and were immediately met with a lobby full of animals. There was an imposing bison head on the wall just as you enter. Perched above our heads on a platform was a full grown elk and a long, powerful mountain lion poised to launch itself at us. An eagle hung suspended in mid-air.
Laddie’s Land
Lucky for us there was a restaurant called ‘Chute Rooster’ about 4 miles away. So we headed off in the dark, through the old mining tunnel, and past the wild west saloon. It was easy to find. Approaching the entrance, we were blocked by a huge canine. He stared at me. His fur was thick and two-toned. He looked like a mix between a shepherd and a wolf. I wondered if he was friendly, and if not, then what’s wrong with this restaurant?
As I opened the door to squeeze past him, he insisted on cramming himself in with me so we both jostled across the threshold at the same time. He was determined to get inside the restaurant. God this is weird. I thought I had done something wrong by letting him in, but really I had no choice, I wasn’t going to fight him. So I told the hostess that a dog just came in with me and he went that way through the restaurant. She turned to a man beside her and said, “Laddie’s in here.” Oh, good, he has a name, they know him.
General Service Animal
She showed us to our seat and I asked her about Laddie. “He’s a service dog,” she said. A service dog. Does he serve stuff? What do you mean “service” dog? If he’s an emotional support animal then he’s definitely lost his human. Or does he do general service for the whole restaurant? I learned from another waitress that he is more the latter. He is one of three dogs who inhabit the restaurant. They are the dogs of the restaurant. Laddie is between 12 and 14 years old. This is the first time I’ve ever met a restaurant dog. I’ve heard of junkyard dogs and reservoir dogs but restaurant dogs are unusual.
We ate good food in a western setting. Maureen had a dipping sandwich and I ate my cheeseburger with a fork and knife because it was so darn big. Live bands play here on the weekend. Upstairs there’s a party room with an antique piano. Clint Eastwood stands flinty eyed keeping watch over the diners daring them to make his day. We set off for the badlands in the morning.
Badlands and Bad Roads
Alex asked me, “So what exactly are the “Badlands”? Why are they bad?”
“I’ll tell you why. The land suddenly drops off like some giant came along and broke off huge chunks of earth making little cliffs everywhere. You could not drive a vehicle across this terrain. Only a horse could navigate through it and that horse would trod slowly and carefully zig zagging his way around all the perilous precipices,” I said. Not only that, the roads that take you through the badlands are bad roads. They are full of potholes, dents, and just basically stuff that gives you a jolt every 10 to 20 seconds.
The Badlands National Park was foggy and desolate. The Visitor’s Center was closed. We weren’t sure where to go so we stopped by the side of the road to regroup. I stepped out of the Jeep to breathe 19°F air. Coming from Florida, it’s a rare treat to shock my lungs and nostrils this way. I took a pic.
The decision was made to drive the few short miles to Nebraska so we could say that we’ve been to Nebraska. I know it’s childish, but we’re immature.
0 Comments