Checking the forecast last night and again this morning confirmed I had to change what I hoped to accomplish today. I was planning on going to the National Park again this afternoon and would stick around for sunset. However, the day was forecasted to have thunderstorms both in the morning and afternoon/evening with only a small gap in between. Would driving to the National Park (a 30-40 minute drive) to only spend a few hours there to then miss the sunset be worth it? Could I make it work on a different day? I spent the first few hours of my day deliberating the merits of going just for the small window between storms. I had some hotel coffee, did some work and kept an eye on the weather. When it looked like the non-rain window was getting larger, I knew I did not want to waste my day, so I packed up a lunch and hit the road.
When I arrived at the park, not many people were there yet. I made my way into the park and followed the map to the trailhead for an out and back I was hoping to do. I turned on to a dirt road (now muddy) and fishtailed my way to the trailhead. As I carefully braved my way to the parking area (where there were no other cars), I started to wonder if this was a sign of the conditions of trails around the park. The rain was long gone and the sun was in full force, but the remains of the storm existed in a soft clay-like consistency on what would otherwise have been dry cracked earth.
I decided the trail wasn't bad near the parking area (though the parking area itself was primed for mud racing). I began my hike through "Prairie Dog Town" and marveled at the little creatures as they popped up all around me only to hide again seconds later. It reminded me of those whack-a-mole games, you would go to take a picture but could never quite capture what you intended. The prairie dog's high pitched alerts filled the air. I tried to tell them I was friendly but they didn't seem to care.
The flat trail began to incorporate mini gorges that sometimes included a small stream at the bottom, while others just had a soggy pool of mud. My shoes had already begun to slide all over and the uphills and downhills started making it worse. I actually had to wipe them on grass or rocks nearby so I could regain some traction. As I practiced my balance while sliding up and down these mini gorges, I battled my stubbornness internally. I wasn't ready to give up, thinking that after the next gorge it might be drier. It wasn't. My logic brain eventually gave way and I turned around after a mile. It took me an hour to do this two mile hike - normally it would take no more than 40 minutes.
During my time on this trail, I was alone (minus the prairie dogs). No other cars braved the mud road (a feat in itself). It was an incredible feeling to be out in nature like that surrounded by the beauty of the world and knowing no one else was there. I could have screamed and I'm not sure anyone could have heard me. This is both terrifying and invigorating. The experience transports me to a world where I am an explorer and have just landed on new land. As I make notes as to what resources this land has, I am on the lookout for predators and cautious of what this unknown land may bring.
I made my way back to my car, most of which was now covered in mud and did other smaller (less muddy) hikes before leaving for the day. As I ran into others on these hikes, I was filled with confidence from knowing I did what no one else had done that day and my car showed it!
It turns out I could have stayed for the sunset as the second storm, which was forecasted to hit in the afternoon, was now fully going to pass. By altering my day and going to the NP earlier than originally planned, I knew I would have to forego the sunset (especially because it is so late here!). On my way out of the park, I walked around the cute, albeit touristy, town of Medora. It has preserved the "wild west" feeling, complete with hitching posts, wood exteriors and stagecoach rides. I got my fill of being a tourist, then called it a day.
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