Wednesday, July 8, 2020
Hotels have taken a variety of approaches to free breakfast in these days of Covid. Some simply space tables and go at it pretty normally. Some individually wrap all items and an employee hands you what you ask for so you don’t touch the one next to it. Of course, then you put your hands all over the buttons to get juice and coffee and cereal from the dispenser (unless you use a napkin to touch surfaces.) One place provided plastic gloves, required for self-service. Others give you a bag breakfast. This one consisted of a very sticky pre-packaged grocery store sweet roll, a tiny granola bar of the cheapest chewy kind, an apple and a bottle of water, which gave heft to the bag and made you think you were getting a good breakfast. The apple was sweet and crunchy so there was something worth eating. We have been carrying our own Nature Valley granola bars, instant oatmeal, yogurts and individual fruit salads so we don’t make out too badly. I bring the electric kettle from home because I do NOT do tea made from water in a thermos or even one of those hot water dispensers that keep the water at a good temp for herbal infusions but not boiling for black tea or my favorite rooibos.
When the car was loaded (we are getting really good at what goes where!), we headed for the Badlands. Just inside the fence we turned right on the high-quality gravel road along the rim.
We paused at Robert’s Prairie Dog Town. According to the literature it is the largest in the country, covering acres and housing thousands of prairie dogs—a veritable NYC metropolitan area. We found more activity in the small town a little further up the road.
I think they are cute, but I hear my sister-in-law's voice in my head, saying with disgust, "Rodents!"
We went almost to the end of the park, ooing and ahing at the views, then turned and headed back. The asphalt with its numerous overlooks is the more spectacular. (Not surprising. That’s probably why that part of the road is asphalt. Duh.)
We went almost to the end of the park, ooing and ahing at the views, then turned and headed back. The asphalt with its numerous overlooks is the more spectacular. (Not surprising. That’s probably why that part of the road is asphalt. Duh.)
We stopped at Cliff Shelf for a quick hike. At the sight of this sign, Steve thought it would be cool to see a rattle snake—from a distance. I wasn't so sure.
The nice thing about the trail here is the green of the junipers to enliven pictures and rest the eyes.
At the far eastern end of the park is a large pullout with Portapotties and several trailheads, some long and some short. The best short walk is the Door, a doorway onto this incredible moonscape. Yellow poles mark a “trail.” Standing at 1, you site 2 and head in that direction. Then site 3 and head that way until you the end of the trail.
There is no distinct trail, and you can scramble wherever you choose, but the poles are like breadcrumbs that will lead you home if you keep them in sight. Twice I heard little boys, ages maybe 8 or 10, asking their parents, “Do people have to stay on the trail?” By the tremor in their voices they half wanted to stray and half feared being told they could.
When we got back to the car (where Mom was waiting with her reading and the windows open to the breeze), it was 11 AM. By the GPS, we were 10 and a half hours from home. We decided to hoof it. We cancelled our reservations in Mitchell as we drove through at 1:45 PM. Construction in Minnesota delayed us some, and we raced another fabulous electric storm the last few miles, but pulled into our driveway at 10:15 (9:15 by the time we had been living on) and got unloaded before the rain started to fall, leaving unpacking for morning.
The hours on the Interstate were not enough to finish another hat, but I got pretty far.
Our daughter and kids came up to escape the heat while we were gone. She informed us that an Eastern kingbird had taken up residence on our dock in our absence, building a nest and laying an egg in the bench cupholder. Uh… Hopefully she won’t object too much to sharing the space with swimmers.
So concludes another adventure, proving that safe travel during Covid is possible and enjoyable if you avoid the crowds in the most popular National Parks. I prefer the kind of travel where we stay in one place a couple of nights and explore the area, which was the original plan for Glacier. But we saw a lot of neat stuff. I'm glad I took my pillow. That goes a long way toward making a new bed feel normal. I would have liked fewer picnics in the car and more at pretty picnic spots. The lack was the result of crowds and the distances we had planned when we found we couldn't stay at Glacier, but we never went hungry with fruit, a tin of crackers and an assortment of Wisconsin cheese and summer sausage. When all this is over, we will try again for a real trip to Glacier.
