Thursday, May 1, 2014

South Dakota: caves, wind, generosity.


The parking lot at Jewel Caves was nearly barren, but we parked our rig, bought tickets for a tour, and elevatored down into the chambers. Jewel Caves is a huge complex of caves underneath miles of the Black Hills in South Dakota. Our tour guide explained that exploration is still on-going: cavers are still pushing through openings barely wide enough for shoulders, to find huge caverns. We padded through the cool stillness, admiring the crystal formations, the walls all like huge broccoli florets, stalagmites and stalactites too. Some rooms with walls like the under-frills of a mushroom. Mr. India pointed out a yellowy-brown formation in smooth clumps: “this is like seals sitting on top of one another.” At one point the tour guide turned off all lights and we were in absolutely pure darkness. You could not tell if your eyelids were open or closed. We do not find darkness like this in the everyday, and it was stunning.

Jewel Cave, Devil’s Tower, the Black Hills, Custer State Park, the Badlands….in the west the earth has so much going on. We took our time there, hiking through the pines and clambering over Badland’s formations, deciding to put the pedal to the medal in the flatness and population of Indiana and Ohio et al.

After a day of caving and mountaining, we stop in Rapid City for dinner. The place is so windy, exhaustingly windy; even locals are complaining. Get this: I was so wearied by the wind, knocking the breath from my chest, grabbing my scarf, that rather than walk the 5 blocks from the coffee shop to the co-op I gave in and drove us there. Those of you who know me and my car opinions, that should be obsoletely telling.

The exciting spontaneity of the logistics of this trip. Where you don’t know, and you wonder, and then suddenly emails come in and you have offers of places to stay. A request to three people in South Dakota late at night through the warmshowers bicycle host network returned two resounding responses, “yes come stay!” so rapidly within just a few hours. Makes you wonder if they get many guests in South Dakota…..

We stayed in Mitchell South Dakota, small prairie town, but home to the Corn Palace. A stadium building decorated on the outside with murals made entirely of corn. Blue corn, red corn, all variations of yellow corn…and the husks and tassels too. I’d been here at the age of 14 with my parents, and remembered how intrigued my Dad was by the western-ness of a building decorated in corn. The rest of the town was western-style shop fronts, a diner, a saloon, souvenir shops, and was almost entirely sleeping.

Mr. Mitchell, one of the bicycle-network members who’d been so enthusiastic to host us, came to meet us outside and warmly welcomed us into his apartment. Mr. Mitchell had worked for many years as a stock-broker and now was working part-time for United Way, in addition to campaigning for the South Dakota state senate house as a Republican. Oh the people we meet on journeys!

Then there was a confluence of Oh My Gosh Small World, because, conversing along in that getting-to-know-you-way, we learned he had sold stock for Xerox years ago (my parents work there!). And get this: in his travels he had visited the very same town in India in which Mr. Anurag had grown up. That was just stunning.

I was blown away by his generosity: he gave us his bedroom and stayed himself in the living room (even after we protested his kindness) and whisked us off to dinner at Ruby Tuesday in his white Lincoln SUV. Much cleaner and emptier than my Subaru, I can say that much. He even invited his friend to join us for dinner, both of them retired stock people, and we had a refined and engaging conversation over South Dakota sized plates of food.

((We’ve been driving down south over Iowa as I write this. It has been a long drive. Says Anurag just now: “I feel like when I reach there, I will lose my butt.”  I agree. ))



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