Oglala Oyanke

From the Badlands of South Dakota Jeff and I entered Pine Ridge Indian Reservation on our way to Wounded Knee. In Lakota the name is "Oglala Oyanke" for it is an Oglala Sioux (Lakota) Native American Reservation, home to almost 30,000 people.

Pine Ridge, the second largest reservation in the United States, looked fertile with rolling hills producing grassland, corn, cattle and other crops.

Compared to other reservations we had seen, Pine Ridge appeared lush. Looks are deceiving, though, for Pine Ridge is the poorest Native American reservation in the nation in the poorest county in the United States.  The unemployment for Pine Ridge is about 80% or higher.  According to reservation online information, the life expectancy for Pine Ridge men is 48 and for women is 50.  Tuberculosis is prevalent.

Evidently this fertile land does produce income, but, in 2002 records, less than 1/3 of that income went to tribal members. I don't know the answers to the obvious question of "Why?" 

What I do know that it is a naturally beautiful place.  The people we met were beautiful and kind to us.

Their artists produced paintings, sculptures and jewelry like none other in the world.

Oglala Oyanke is a field of opportunity.

If any of us live in poverty, our whole society is impoverished.

The beauty of these sunflowers should not be hidden behind broken-down cars and homes without bathrooms or doors.

Each individual blossom is beautiful if given a chance to grow.

But there are fields of sunflowers who's beauty could more easily be seen with just a little help to hold their heads up so they could see the horizon.

Wall Drug

What a drag - Wall Drug.  I did promise an entry on this particular "bad land"  The self-proliferating myth to travelers through the Midwest is that you MUST visit Wall Drug.  Well, I, for one, do not like to be left out. I didn't want to be someone who SHOULD have seen Wall Drug.  Besides, I thought it must be a great place because I saw it on a billboard.  What is the plural of billboard?

I was not at all disappointed. Perhaps my expectations are set too high.  How could I not be won over by this adorable jack-a-lope?  If Jeff had been nearby I could have had my picture taken living dangerously by sitting atop his saddle.  (and, yes, I would have done it.)
Now, you must realize that I am NOT a shopper. I am not against spending money; not even against buying silly stuff. I am sure that some of my stuff looks pretty bad to other people.

But please, not shoulder-to-shoulder and not with so many shoulders.  I know I must be in the minority because I saw lots of smiles.  I saw many of those smiles lined up behind other smiles all in line to buy a badge that said, "Wall Drug."
Believe me, I have utmost respect for the dear old couple who came up with the idea to sell this  place to drivers scattered throughout the Dakotas and surrounding states.
I am not going to say that nothing there interested me.  I kinda liked this guy . . .
but I'm thinking that he had stood in line too long.  He was looking kinda stiff.
Before you start to jump all over my case, I will admit that there were some interesting things on the shelves. There was some pretty jewelry, nice carvings, cute toys.  One ironwood carving of a buffalo (Yeah, yeah, American Bison . . . Whatever.) caught my eye. It also caught my eye in New Mexico for a third of what was now in my eye.
The photos were interesting as were the models depicting life of pioneers of a bygone era.  But again, I must mention the crowds.
There was even an Indian store that sold genuine American Indian articles straight off a Hollywood film set manufactured by real people.

Okay, I sound a bit too cynical.  Even I hear it. I admit, I am a shopping wimp.  I like people, I really do. I just don't want to shop with them-not all at once.

At one point I felt overwhelmed and tried to find Jeff.  He was nowhere that I looked. I really wanted my photo taken on that jack-a-lope.  I tried to call him on his cell phone, but there was no answer.  I was beginning to believe that he was hiding from me, letting me steep in the panic that was rising along with the whelming tide of tourists armed with belly packs and Reebocks.

Was he avoiding my company? 

Was it my imagination? Where could he be?  

Maybe outside enjoying some "Western Hospitality."

Finally I found him and together we escaped strolled outside and down the sidewalk.
Parking lots were full as were the sidewalks and the stores.  Some stores were closed because this was after the main tourist season.  I was so very sorry to have missed a chance to be there at the peak of the season.
Out in the fresh air, we encountered some strange tourists.  Actually they were my favorite part of Wall Drug.

This little lady was dressed up fine as was her friend.







 It was time to say, "Good-bye."
Oh how I would miss it.
Now go ahead, all you Wall Drug lovers.
You may now start throwing fried cake doughnuts at me.
I can take it.

I've been to Wall Drug!!

Conquer

Like an ancient spirit, Devil's Tower stood far across the plane quiet but strong in its declaration that it was here first.  Before the ancestors of any of us, human, antelope, or wolf walked across the plains in search of a living, the tower was there. Native American cultures such as Arapaho, Crow, Kiowa, Lakota, Cheyenne and Shoshone trace their origins to the rock.  Names like "Bear's Tipi," "Bear's Lodge," "Tree Rock," "Aloft on a Rock," are all given to the tower.  The Lakota Sioux have several similar names but for obvious reasons, also call it, "Penis Rock."
Each of these tribes trace its origins to the rock which rises 1267 feet above the Belle Fourche River in Wyoming.  It was already a sacred monument long before President Theodore Roosevelt declared it America's first National Monument in 1906.
Humans have tried to conquer the tower much as we have tried to conquer much of nature.  We see towering mountains as a challenge.  Even the most uninviting environments. . . . ..

 . . .have become home to someone.

We saw the Great Plains . . . loaded our wagons . . . hitched our oxen and set off, accumulating settlements as we went.

Log houses went up quickly and easily when trees were plentiful

Whole communities were built with styles that changed as new settlers moved in bringing new technologies.

Where there were no trees, the sod, itself was cut into blocks to build dark, yet warm sod homes. Winters were hard and long.  Little light or snow entered the home.

Wherever we settled, we changed our surroundings . . . squaring up trees to give us flat walls. . . 

Building tanks to hold water pulled out of the ground.
We have continued to change the landscape in our effort to live, whether it is by building windmills to give us much needed water,

Or digging into the earth for minerals and other resources to make our lives easier

Like ants, we change our world, one tiny piece at a time.  

Someday generations of humans will be no more. Our descendants, like our ancestors will return to carbon. 

 I don't know when that will be but I wonder will some of the rocks remain . . . standing erect, waiting to see what will go by next.

Bad Lands?

The night before, we had camped in a small RV park in Wall South Dakota.  If you have ever driven across the midwest, you have probably seen signs to Wall Drug. We were in Wall to see Wall Drug but that story is for a different post.  This entry will leave that bad land for the natural Badlands which were anything but bad.

We were driving along through the grasslands of South Dakota, among the last remaining natural grasslands, part of what was once the great prairies of our country. suddenly, the bottom fell out of the land and the canyons and buttes of The Badlands National Park were before us.

It truly was like that.  Because the land had been so flat, we had no clue of what was to come.  As far as our eyes could tell, the grasslands continued on forever.  

I think of what it must have been like for travelers who first came upon the sight. For them it would take great skill to learn how to cross the area.  For us, it was not quite so hard. The paved road helped alot but it did not detract from our awe of the landscape.

The badlands are formed by erosion.  The whole area was once a vast inland sea with whales and other sea life. The see dried up and the great flat land became occupied by animals like the tiny dog size horses and wooly mammoths.  While the sea was drying, dinosaurs and other animas  became mired in the drying mud, their bones becoming fossilized. At one time just a few rivers flowed off the Rocky Mountains to the west. the lands below were formed by sediments from these rivers, dust off the mountains and volcanic ash deposited from western volcanoes. As earthquakes and other natural forces changed the land, rivers changed their course, split, flooded and dried up.  The waters flowing across the soft land cut into it in many directions forming sharp ,steep canyons, revealing the many layers that made up the land.

In the picture above you can see a continuous gray layer that is volcanic ash that was deposited by the wind on the previously flat surface.  (if not, then double click to make the photo larger.) Colors in the badlands range from very dark . . .

. . .to almost white. Much of the light layer comes from years of dust and silt.

This is the softest and most recent layer.  Most of the strange shapes and spires are formed in this layer, easily eroded with wind and each falling rain drop.

While the landscape did not look inviting, many animals found it comfortable.  These included

prairie dogs.

 They squeaked and grazed near their burrows.  In the past the prairie dog population was controlled in the badlands by black-footed ferrets who kill the cute rodents then steal their burrows. Both animals were often meals for coyotes on the ground or raptors that dove from overhead.  Black-footed ferrets were hunted to extinction in the Badlands, but have been reintroduced to re-balance the habitat.
Another animal that was hunted to extinction was the Audubon bighorn sheep. Rocky Mountain big horn sheep were brought in to fill in their spot in the habitat.

The collars around each sheep's neck is a radio collar used to track them. They are not tame though they have little fear of humans in cars.  These sheep have probably never been shot at so they are very patient with tourists stopping to take photographs. Whenever a car stopped too long, though, the sheep became alert, ready to run if needed. 

The US Forestry manages the park and tries to keep invasive species out.  To help do this they use burning which is a traditional, natural control in grasslands.  While the badlands seems to have more cliffs than grass, it is still part of the grasslands.  The controlled burn was to rid the area of invasive plants such as yellow sweet clover , wheat grass and smooth brome.  The yellow sweet clover particularly is harmful because it fixes nitrogen in the ground and shades the ground, making it much more difficult for native grasses to grow.

This brings up a question another blogger lead me to:  Are we being self centered to worry so much about invasive species? All species were invasives at one time in their evolution. Is it just a romantic attachment to the "good ol' days" that makes us want to protect "native" plant species? Right now I still am on the side of protection from invasive plants, but it is a good question to ponder.

The burning done on the grasslands of The Badlands was very controlled.  In its wake we observed pear cactus that appeared to be killed in the fire, but actually the cactus survives the fire and thrives as a native of the area.

In this cropped photo with the exposure lightened you can see the lighter brown dots throughout the burned area.  These are the pear cactus plants

We spent a good day traveling through this land, enjoying the information center, talking to rangers and observing the work of nature carving through rock.

I am thankful for the park's creation as I am thankful for the creation of this particular environment. 

Yes, it is harsh. Yes it is stark. Yes it is a far cry from the jungle-like environment of the Appalachians, but bad? I think not.

These were Good Lands.