Day 98 -- Thursday, August 6

South Dakota's great; it's full of attractions and the scenery is terrific. I look forward to returning here someday, but it won't be in August. Every August, the town of Sturgis, in the Black Hills, hosts a nationwide biker rally. That's biker, as in motorcycles, Harleys, mostly, and that's OK. Some of you may remember, I encountered many bikers in South Carolina, no problems. The difference here in South Dakota was in numbers. There were 120,000 bikers in the area surrounding Sturgis, and I mean the general area. There wasn't a motel room to be found within a hundred miles of the rally; the streets were clogged with all manner of traffic, from Harley choppers to mini-vans full of cranky kids. Three nights in a row, I've had to scramble for some kind of lodging accommodations and I'm growing tired of it. Come to South Dakota, by all means, but do it in June.

Having tented it through a thunderstorm last night, replete with heavy winds and lots o' lightning, I managed only a few hours of troubled sleep. When I awakened, I was tied up in knots, feeling like an octogenarian who'd just run the marathon. I hate sleeping in that damn tent.

I'm often surprised to find how fatigued I feel at the end of a day's drive. It shouldn't come as a surprise, I suppose; after all, eight hours of driving is a good day's work but I don't tend to think of it as work. I'm traveling for fun and relaxation, right? Why, then, am I so tired? Well, I was really tired last night and a brief nap in a windblown nylon shelter wasn't my idea of a good night's sleep.

I had many stops ahead of me today, though, so it was full speed ahead. My first stop was directly across Highway 16 from my campground, a few miles south of Rapid City. Reptile Gardens is a great combination of serious and silly. Believe me, it's seven dollars well spent. A large dome contains a sort of aviary, where one can wander among exotic birds, snakes, and lizards. They're all around you as you make your way. The lizards ranged from a foot long to just a couple of inches; one changed rapidly from bright green to brown. Some of the more dangerous specimens are kept in glass cases like those found in traditional reptile houses. Reptile Gardens also has alligators and crocodiles and plenty of 'em, more varieties than one could ever hope to keep straight. Upstairs in the dome are a series of booths containing rabbits, ducks, and chickens who will, upon the feeding of a quarter into the appropriate slot, perform astounding tricks. One chicken will beat you in tic-tac-toe (believe me, it'll beat you), another hits a home run on a miniature baseball diamond. A duck plays piano, too. These Pavlov's barnyard animals do these feats, of course, to gain some feed but for the price, you can't go wrong.

Back outside, one can get a closeup look at some giant Galapagos tortoises, view a few miniature horses or chat with some prairie dogs. There's even a Bat Cave (it could more accurately be called a Bat Shack) featuring four different varieties of these horrid little creatures, ranging from the tiny beginner's size to the huge Expert model.

There are also four outdoor exhibitions: Wings of Prey, with various birds performing tricks; the Alligator program, educational, and thrilling; the Reptile program where we learn that snakes and lizards are our friends and Enchanted Village, in which townspersons (the banker, the tailor, etc.) have been turned into animals. The stunts these creatures perform are much like those seen in the dome but they don't cost a quarter, so...

And, surprise! There's also a gift shop with plenty of rubber snakes and plastic lizards in stock, alongside the usual commemorative plates and unattractive pottery. Reptile Gardens narrowly missed, in a split vote, being awarded a BRETTnews Highlight Attraction Award. See it anyway.

The most committed proponent of the See Rock City school of roadside advertising I've yet encountered is Wall Drug in Wall, South Dakota. In the 50-some-odd mile trip from Rapid City to this little burg, I counted 67 signs proclaiming the merits of Wall Drug. 67! That's an average of one every .746 miles! Astounding.

Wall Drug's commitment to roadside publicity is understandable, as this practice was responsible, in the 1930s, for the very survival of this then-fledging emporium. In 1931, Dorothy and Ted Hustead bought a drugstore in the tiny town of Wall. Ted had graduated from pharmaceutical school in 1929 and, after two years of working for others, he was dead set upon getting his own place. They left their home in Canova, South Dakota and began their search. They came upon the town of Wall - population 326 and nearly all of them taking a real beating from the Depression.

They bought the drugstore there and before long were living in a room in the back of the shop. Times were exceedingly tough. They decided to give their dream five years; if they couldn't make a go of it in that time, they'd look at other options.

Time went by but business didn't improve very much. By the summer of 1936, there was traffic a-plenty going by on Route 16A but how could the Husteads get those cars to stop in Wall?

Finally, it occurred to Dorothy that the one thing all those travelers crossing the prairie under the hot summer sun would crave as they neared Wall was a glass of ice water.

It sounded good to Ted so in the next few days, he prepared a series of signs in the style of the old Burma-Shave roadside ads. They read "Get a soda...Get root beer...Turn next corner...Just as near...To Highway 16 & 14...Free Ice Water...Wall Drug." Each phrase was painted on a 12 by 36 inch board, and they were placed so that they'd be read by passing motorists.

The response was immediate. People stopped in droves for a cool drink and, often as not, they bought something, too. The next summer, the Husteads were so busy they hired eight girls to help take care of the crowds. Today, they make a regular practice of hiring college students in need of a summer job.

Ted and Dorothy are still around, still watching over the operation but their son Bill is the main man now. Wall Drug now fills several buildings with souvenir shops, cafes, jewelry stores, a bookstore, a huge selection of postcards and much more. They also offer entertainment; two life-sized mechanical combos, the Cowboy Ochestra and the Chuckwagon Quartet, perform every few minutes. In the Back Yard, one finds such photo opportunities as a huge jackelope suitable for climbing, a six-foot stuffed rabbit, a stuffed horse posed in an eternal buck, a covered wagon, a preserved buffalo and a 1908 Hupmobile. There's also a Tourist Information booth, a Traveler's Chapel, a Western Art Gallery and, of course, a pharmacy.

At Wall Drug, they still give away free ice water -- over 5,000 glasses a day in the summer months. They even let folks fill a jug or thermos. And if you're a hunter, skier, honeymooner, missile crewman (!) or 18-wheeler driver, you're entitled to free coffee and donuts.

Leaving town to the east, I stopped to admire the 80 ft. Wall Drug Dinosaur. It's adjacent to the Wall Auto Livery. Then it was south and east into the Badlands. This is amazing country. One is traveling through the South Dakota prairie when suddenly it drops into these very strange canyons, crevices, smooth mounds and jagged cliffs (there may be even be a butte or mesa thrown in for good measure. My deficiencies in describing my surroundings are already well-documented). Tans and greys are the predominant colors here but bands of red and orange are also seen. The area really looks like nothing else I've seen. If you abducted a guy in midtown Manhattan, drugged him, flew him to South Dakota, dressed yourself and the kidnappee in space suits and told him, when he awakened, that he'd been flown to another planet, he'd likely buy it. It's that strange-looking a place.

image - SD Badlands image - SD Badlands

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