John Rachal's Blog

DAY 6, May 27, Monday

We left the KOA just outside Badlands National Park, South Dakota, after dumping at the dump station and discovering that one of the bolts supporting the grey tank pipe had apparently sheered off, diminishing by half the support for the plastic pipe. We managed to get the nut off with a little difficulty, press the bolt up through the Casita frame bar’s hole and re-attach the nut. We are concerned that all the bumpiness and occasional bouncing, or porpoising, is challenging for bolts and rivets alike. But the fix was adequate, though it bears watching. A three-eighths bolt instead of a one-quarter inch bolt would be better. We then drove through Badlands National Park on the way to our destination of Custer State Park, roughly 127 miles away. The Badlands seem forbidding and yet majestic with these other-worldly rock formations, mostly rounded, but others spire-like, with deep valleys separating them. The day was cold (around 50), windy, and rainy, so the park did not show at its best, which on a sunny day is often near sunset when the colors—mostly yellow and red on the stone but surrounded by brilliant green grass—pop out. I felt a little guilty giving the park such short shrift, but it wasn’t even on our original itinerary, so I got over it. At one point we needed something out of the Thule roof carrier, and I was beginning to worry that we were not going to be able to close it and would have to go the rest of the trip with it tied down or something. When closed, a rod goes through a hole in a bar at the front and back as well as attaching in the middle. Anyway, we managed to close it. This trip will be a real test of my stoicism and patience, and I really am working on that. But frustration comes easily to me, I am ashamed to say. At least I am aware of it, trying to be a little cooler under duress.

We then went to super touristy Wall, S. D., famous for its “drug” store, which is really a large complex with a restaurant and gift shops with all sorts of knick-knacks as well as some useful items. We had lunch there and had some cake doughnuts. I also enjoyed the western art on the walls—the kind where there is some dramatic or perilous situation, sometimes reflecting a passage from a western novel. One good example was that of a wounded or possibly even dying man in the arms of his wife in the mountainous wilderness, with her staring not at him but into the distance. The title was something like “Yes, I Love You,” presumably her words to him, but possibly being said with less than total conviction as she contemplates her own fate. Does she leave for possible help many days away? Does she die in this lonely wilderness? Does she have a gun? Or does she stay and either nurse his wound or wait for him to die?

From there we left for Custer State Park, mostly on an interstate with an 80 mph limit. But for part of it there was dense fog, dense enough that you had to be almost at a road sign before you could read it. I was only doing 62, and certainly hoping no idiot doing 80 would plow into me, or, by contrast, I would not plow into someone stopped or going too slow. But we did fine and arrived at Custer in rain. Val made a nice tomato-pasta meal for supper. We set up the table, but it is a bit of a nuisance to do so and to stow afterwards. The luxury of a permanently set up table in a larger camper would be a treat.

DAY 7, May 28, Tuesday

The rain of yesterday continued, and we did little other than go to the Visitors Center and ask about possible evacuation of the park, since the creeks were raging and overflowing, and crews were putting sandbags in front of park cabins that were close to the water. One or two roads were indeed closed, but there was no evacuation. Decked out in our rain coats, we had a dessert at the Game Lodge in the park and bought a few postcards. Finally in late afternoon the rain stopped, and the camp host knocked on our door and assured Val, who had expressed her anxiety about an emergency evacuation to him, that all was well. Very decent of him.

For the second night in a row, the propane detector alarm went off the night before, or actually in the wee hours of Wednesday. It has cried wolf several times during our ownership of the Casita, and we have to get up, hit the re-set switch, fan it vigorously, turn on the overhead fan or the A/C, and hope it doesn’t come back on. Since we are plugged in to electricity, the propane tank is not even on, and the problem is common among Casita owners. Various odors, apparently including human or canine flatulence, can set it off, as can a hair dryer. Then after that little episode, and sleep had returned to all, I was awakened by a trickle of water right in my face from the ongoing rain, and Val quickly ascertained that it was coming from an exterior capped plug for the television wire. Some carpet was wet, and we sopped some of it with towels and spent the next day with the blower from the air conditioner aimed at it. During the morning of Wednesday, with it still raining, I covered the outside plug with duct tape that matches the Casita. This too is a not an uncommon problem, and Val can go to her fellow Casita cultists and find many others who have usually experienced the problem and can offer possible solutions.

DAY 8, May 29, Wednesday

Sunshine at last. The wild creeks have abated their torrid pace but not yet returned to their tranquil selves. But the sun is out and things are starting to dry out. We did two things today: We took the Wildlife Loop with the dogs and saw bison, pronghorn, mountain bluebirds (beautiful), barn swallow, western meadowlark, the ubiquitous robins, brown-headed cowbird, turkey vultures, Brewer’s blackbird, and tree swallows. The O’Neals have done this loop and the curvy, hilly ride up to Mt. Rushmore on bikes, and I am feeling like quite a wuss.

Then in the afternoon we drove to Rushmore. It was admittedly pretty cool to see “in person” what you have seen pictures of all your life. I was reminded of Cary Grant’s line in North By Northwest as he looked upon those famous four that he didn’t like the way Teddy was looking at him. Val cooked a fine pizza in the electric frying pan for dinner. We covered 91 miles today, all without the camper of course.