Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Woke up bright and early, pumped to tackle a hike into the Badlands! After an omelette and a quick cup o’ joe at the Lodge, Justin and I procured a gigantic bottle of water to guard us against the increasingly oppressive midday sun and set out to embark upon the Notch Trail, moderate-strenuous, 1.5 miles.
The Badlands guide recommends that anyone afraid of heights skip this trail. They also warn that it’s dangerous during and after heavy rainfall and that you should stay on the trails unless you have a compass and a topographical map because if you get lost, there’s no cell reception and you’ll probably die. But nowhere in the guide (or on the grounds for that matter) does it prohibit anyone from attempting any of the trails – it’s like the Badlands management is telling patrons that yes, it’s dangerous here, but we trust your good judgement… have a good time! This is when it really hit me that we were no longer in the whitewashed, babyproof, use-the-handrails-please Northeast… we were in the fucking Wild West. And I liked it.
Armed with this new sense of frontier-y adventure, Justin and I started the trail which was tame enough, meandering through a canyon with slightly prickly underbrush, until we came upon this…













