There were tons of signs for crazy tourist hangouts off the highway. Like this sculpture...
Which was outside of 1880 Town. Gabbie and I both thought it was 1800-TOWN. Until we pulled off to get gas and saw that it was a town preserved from 1880 or something like that.
We were hungry so we got some snacks first in the train car diner.
Signing the guestbook... or so I think...
We were going to tour the actual 1880 Town, but the admission fee was high so we bought some postcards and asked this guy for directions.
There was an interesting little storm going on next to us.
Badlands
We collectively have enough photographs of the badlands to fill the Wadsworth Athenum, We've only chosen a select few to share, honestly, none of them do this breathtaking sight justice. Feel free to schedule an appointment with one of us to view all of the photos. (parents need not apply)
We kept trailing behind this Asian persuasion as they had tasteless photo shoots on every boulder of the badlands. Instinctively we concocted their life story: all three matriculate at Pratt. The one in the pink gauchos and doc martins - photo major. The one in the blue - fashion merchandising. The other - social media major. We're convinced that is a major by now. She is also creating a road trip blog, but it's her final thesis. Our story became real life when they hopped into a red Scion, with Jersey plates.
Reflecting on life in the Badlands.
THERE.
"Wait, is that sound cicadas or rattlesnakes??"
I was taking a picture of Gabbie, these Aussie bikers (in town for Sturgis, of course) noticed my photoshoot...
Tarpatch, Aussie Aussie Oi! Oi! Oi!, and Blackbush
WALL DRUG
If anyone is unfamiliar with this place, it's like the South of the Border of the North. A huge, kitschy old west town where you can buy lots of tchotchkes, get food'n'drinks and spend the entire day people watching.
We both had a craving for ice cream sodas. Gabbie ordered hers as I was still deciding on a flavor. When I turned to the lady behind the counter and ordered, I was stunned when she asked "Hard or soft?" in a thick Turkish accent. I didn't know how to handle it because I was immediately thrown into a time warp. Wait, am I in NYC? Where am I?? Are there Turkish people in South Dakota??? Do I want hard or soft?!!? As these questions ran through my head (and as I stared at her like a deer in headlights), Jasmine (what I'll name her) then described the difference between hard and soft, something I feel like I should've been explaining to her. This experience gave us plenty of material as we slurped down own treats.
Gabbie sitting under the ORIGINAL founding fathers. Sir, mind your own business.
After we exhausted the Turks behind the counter, we found this malt shop puppy love. Which then fueled another round of jokes, including an R'n'B song.
Gabbie loves wood art.
A restaurant with more wood and animal art.
Yeah. We'd come back.
When we finally arrived in Keystone, this stop light foreshadowed the two-wheeled explosion that was to come.
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