A Sunny Day in the Badlands

Once the sun was flying higher in the sky, we abandoned our sunrise/moonset photo shoot and drove west along the park road. Not far from Norbeck Pass we came across a group of bighorn sheep rams, possibly the same boys we'd seen the night before. They were grazing right along the road, and we got really nice looks at them in the morning sun.

Sheep and sunflower. He passed on the flower and ate some grass next to it.

Settling down to chew some cud in the sunshine.

Through the whole trip I was surprised at how many free-roaming pronghorn we saw. Starting here in western South Dakota and all throughout Wyoming, we saw countless small herds of this ungulate, which are not antelope, though they are frequently called that. They are the only surviving member of their family, which Wikipedia says contained 12 members during the Pleistocene, though only three were present in North America when humans arrived. Their closest relatives? Giraffes. While pronghorn are able to reach speeds upwards of 60 mph, the predators that they once needed that speed to evade are long extinct. Interestingly, they never developed the ability to jump, and are often trapped behind--or caught in--fences.

Small herds of pronghorn were sprinkled throughout the park.

Big rams were not the only bighorn sheep present in the park. We saw several small groups of ewes with young ones, some with a ram present. This little cutie was heading up into the rocks near an observation area.

Baby bighorn!

I loved watching these animals walk so confidently across this landscape.

Ewe and calf moving through the shade of a butte

We saw several coyote that day too, including one that had got itself a prairie dog. This not long after we had watched another looming within a dog town, wondering if they really have success hunting out in the open like that. This pretty 'yote came up empty, as far as we could tell.

Coyote hunts prairie dogs in the setting sun

One of the biggest moments of the day came while we were stopped at an overlook, next to a prairie dog town. I was feeding our dogs (not the best idea as the sight of them drove the poor rodents mad), and I saw a bigger-than-a-robin bird fly a few feet above the ground and land, at some distance away, atop a burrow. "Bird! Bird! Bird!" I hollered, unable to let go of the dogs to get my binoculars. Lisa came to the rescue and brought my binocs while taking the dogs. When I got the bird in my sights I literally jumped for joy. A Burrowing Owl!! It was too far away for any decent photos, but just to finally get to see one was fantastic. We watched it for a while as it flew from burrow to burrow, until we finally had to start heading back to camp.

Burrowing owl!

While the landscape of the Badlands is fascinating, trying to photograph it on a bright sunny day is nearly pointless. Early and late where OK, but the rest of the day the hills and buttes and gullies looked washed out. But we enjoyed exploring the area nonetheless.

The rocks and grasslands of the Badlands.

Three units comprise the Badlands, this being the northern-most unit. The other two are south in the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation, a place of abject poverty. I know that there were plenty of sacred sites in this area, places of great importance to the Sioux, but I can also see why they were relegated to this region--it's really a God-forsaken place. Arid and hot in summer, colder than Hades in winter, with a relenting wind. Poor soil and little water makes it useless for crops, and the topography makes it useless for much of anything else. In short, it's land we didn't want, or didn't find useful in any way, (until gold was discovered in the Black Hills, just to the west, but that's another story). I would love to see this place on a cloudy, rainy day.

As sunset neared we drove back to camp and hit the hay early. The next day we'd make our way across Wyoming and camp just outside the entrance to Yellowstone National Park.

A Big Trip West: First Stop, Badlands National Park

 After years of threatening, we finally decided to make a return trip to Yellowstone National Park and the Grand Tetons. Being independent artists, it's a bit scary to take a few weeks and go on vacation--there's no vacation pay, and there's no one else who does our work in our absence. We had to pick the dates very early in the year as show scheduling begins in January. We had set aside the last two weeks in September for the trip, but for much of the summer thought we would probably not go. Then, in late August, we said to hell with it, let's just go. It will be spectacular, and we will get material to work with and from.

It was.

And we did.

Lisa and I had been out west in 2007, but it was Lori's first trip. We planned the 24 hour drive to Yellowstone in three segments of  eight hours, plus stops, which put our road time at around 10 hours a day. I'm getting too old to spend 14-16 hours driving, trying to get to a place as quickly as possible. I'm in more of a "let's take our time and enjoy it" place now.

Our first day took us to Cedar Falls Iowa, where I'd done an art show a couple times and camped at George Wyth State Park. I wanted to make the days driving out feel more like part of the vacation, so we camped rather than stay at a rest area (as we did on the way home). Our goal each day was to reach the campground before dark, and we just managed to do that here, ahead of a drenching storm. Travelling with two other people and two dogs who need to be walked and fed means each stop can take 15-20 minutes or more. It can add over an hour to a trip, but since we'd kept our days short it kept the stress down.

Our second stop was the Badlands. We'd seen similar landscapes in Theodore Roosevelt National Park in North Dakota three years ago (which I never got around to writing about), but the Badlands were an eight hour drive from Cedar Falls so it fit well. Plus, we could decide once we got there if we wanted to stay an extra day and check out the park, which we ended up doing.

We arrived at the gate about a half hour before sunset. While I wanted to capture the sunset over the Badlands, what I really wanted was to see the moon RISE over the sandstone formations--it was a full moon that night and I didn't want to miss it. We got the camper set up and jumped back in the van to find a spot to watch the moon.

South Dakota 240 winds through the park, becoming the Badlands Loop Road, and the campground lies at the junction of 240 and 377. Driving west on 240 we wound around buttes and spires and other strange formations, the eastern end of the park being the more dramatic by far. Up on Norbeck Pass we found a spot where the landscape opened up to the east, so we parked and got out our camera gear, and Lisa hooked up the dogs to walk them along the road.

A few quick shots of the setting sun, which had just dipped below the horizon, then I turned my attention to the east.

Sunset at Norbeck Pass, Badlands NP

As I rounded the edge of a butte, I looked to my right and saw this big guy eyeballing me. I stopped and took some photos, and motioned to Lori to be careful coming around the corner. There were five others laying down in the grass. He made no move towards us though, so I proceeded along the road.

Bighorn sheep ram, checking us out

I positioned myself where I was pretty sure I would see the moon, then turned back to the sunset for a moment.

When I turned back around, I noticed all the bighorns who had been laying down were now up and very curious about us.

Some mighty curious sheep!

I wasn't sure what they were looking at, but I had a moon rise to capture, so I turned my attention to that.

I wonder what they're looking at...

When I first saw the pink glow of the moon, I wasn't completely certain that's what I was looking at. It looked like a lighted sign or billboard or something.

The harvest moon peeks over the Badlands

But as it continued to rise, and I moved farther down the road, there was no mistaking it. I was so excited to be there to watch the Harvest Moon rise above the Badlands.

After several minutes the moon rose into a small bank of clouds and disappeared. I turned back to my right and saw that one of the rams had moved much closer to the road and was studying something intently. Lisa had come along with the dogs, and it seemed that they had garnered much interest from these sheep. I took some photos but then he moved around the back of a butte and disappeared from sight.

Big Daddy's got his eye on something

I turned back to the moon, which had cleared the clouds...

...then back to the sunset side.

Some other folks had joined us to watch the moon rise, and as I started to make my way back to the van, one of them mentioned that a bighorn sheep was standing feet away. I looked and saw this:

Oh! My! There he is! Hide the dogs!

I missed the drama, but apparently Lisa and Lori had gone back to the van with the dogs. Lori was holding them by the side doors. Lisa could see moonlight over a dip in the rocks and wanted to take a look, so started to climb up. Lori happened to notice, just above Lisa's head on the other side, a large pair of horns, and told Lisa she might not want to go there. Lisa looked up and was nearly face to face with this ram, about four feet apart. She jumped back and grabbed the dogs, throwing them in the van like sacks of potatoes, then climbing in herself. It was clear the sheep where not happy about the presence of these funny looking coyotes.

You can't wish for better looks at a ram than this.

I scooted around the back of the van and used it as a blind as well as a place to help hold myself still, as the light was quite low and I had not had time to set up my tripod. The ram stood stock still, waiting perhaps to see what came out of the van.

I was giddy. To be so close, to have him pose so majestically up on that rise! To be on the second day of our trip and get such great material, to be able to spend time watching and studying this fellow.... Wow. Usually, when you see these guys, their heads are down, or their backside is towards you, or they're laying down, so to see him in this way was magical.

He moved a little ways along the edge, so sure footed, so at home. Light was fading so I made a few more images then we headed back to camp. It was a great start to what would be a great trip.

Sheep on the Mountain

Lisa and I split up on the summit of Mt. Washburn. She had the shorter but steeper hike, mine longer but more gradual. Going down can be nearly as difficult as going up, using a totally different set of muscles to keep you from rolling down the trail. Thighs would be burning by the end of this hike!

As I posted before, the skies were hazy from the smoke of the Idaho fires. I don't know how well you can see it in this small photo, but the trail winds from right to left through the center of the image. This appears to be a service drive for the ranger station atop Mt. Washburn as it was wide and marked with orange poles (as you'll see in some of the next photos) probably for better navigation in the snow.

Going down the trail alone was a treat for me. I love Lisa to pieces but sometimes it's nice to travel at your own pace, not worry if you're taking too much time taking pictures...just a chance to get lost in your own thoughts. Not too lost, though. This is grizzly country and I tried to be aware at all times to what was happening around me. The trail followed along the western side of a ridge, which I found rather disconcerting as I could not see what might be just on the other side.

After 15 or 20 minutes I rounded a bend, and there they were. Bighorn Sheep.

I love the sheep in front on the left. He/she was one of the only ones who paid me any attention. The day was hot and dry, and every time the group paused the little ones laid down in the dusty path.

I felt kind of bad for the little guys, they really seemed to be having a hard time in the heat.

As I stood on the path, the sheep just moved around and past me, like waves on a beach.

I later learned that the older the sheep, the bigger the horns. Unlike animals with antlers (deer, elk) horns are not shed and in the case of some, like these sheep, continue to grow throughout the animal's life. This beautiful creature was undoubtedly the oldest of this herd.

They grazed along the verge, totally non-plussed by my presence. None the less, I stood as still as I could, moving little more than my shutter finger--I saw how sharp those horns and hooves were!

Once they moved past me they climbed back up to the path, and eventually the entire herd lay down. I continued my own journey.

If you look back to the first image of the sheep, you see a couple of folks on the path ahead of me. There was also a family some distance behind me. I could actually hear the folks in front talking, which I found rather annoying. However, they apparently were not impressed with the sheep and did not seem to have stopped to watch them. By the time I started back down the path, those folks were out of sight. Now, the people who had been behind me had their route blocked by a herd of snoozing sheep. I found myself utterly, blissfully alone on the trail.

What an afternoon that was. Sure it was hot, but it was bright, sunny and dry, filled with insect song. The slopes were covered with wildflowers,

and ghost trees left over from the fires.

If I hadn't been in something of a hurry to get down to the parking lot to meet Lisa I may have laid down in the grass. I could pretend, if just for an hour or so, that there were no cars, planes, televisions or cell phones. There was just me, the sun, the wind, and whoever made this huge pile of poop.

I'm sorry, what, did you say bear? Oh my. Well, sure, moose don't graze at 9,000 feet in open scrubby land, and sheep don't poop that big. I think it's a good thing that I did not realize at the time who or what made that pile. As I said the trail followed a ridge line, just to one side of it, and there was no way to see what was on the other side without climbing to the top. I was a little worried if I did that I would suprise something on the other side, so I never left the trail.

One last image of the rocks, flowers and lichens on Mt. Washburn before I came to the parking area.

I beat Lisa by about 15 or 20 minutes, so I sat in the shade of a scraggly tree and waited. I could have stayed on that mountain all day, but we were heading back to the Hayden Valley to look for the wolves again, which I wrote about a few posts back. After leaving the valley we headed back into town, but stopped a while to sit on the bank of the Madison River as the sun went down, some Native American flute music playing on the car's CD player. This was our last full day in the park and we wanted to sit back and enjoy it's peaceful side.

Next: The Grizzly and Wolf Discovery Center