thebottle Blog

Badlands

The next day was torturous, miles upon miles of prairie and interstate. When I got to Wall, South Dakota I couldn’t take it any more so I stopped and got a motel room. After this I walked around town and went to the Wall Drug shopping mall. Nothing interested me so I went back to my motel and went to sleep. Long distance riding was more tiring than I had thought.

I got my ticket to ride through the Badlands. I was relieved to see it would be a cloudy day as the last two days the sun beat down on my black leather jacket making me miserable. The Badlands were a great change in scenery from the prairie, but this too eventually became a mundane blur, blending together into nothingness. I rode through the Badlands and occasionally stopped to take a picture or two, but I couldn’t help but feel I was wasting time. I needed to get out of South Dakota so I pushed on to Wyoming where I approached the Black Hills.

The Black Hills are a motorcyclist’s dream: the cool weather, the long winding curves, the trees, the cliffs, the hills. It went by all too quickly because once again I found myself on some boring interstate heading toward Denver, Colorado. I grew tired and decided to stop in Wheatland, Wyoming were I drank and smoked myself to sleep in some run-down motel.