After an eternity on the long and empty roads of South Dakota, I finally made it to the entrance of The Badlands.
Windy and overcast, an ominous and dreadful feeling filled my bones. The signs to watch for rattlesnakes didn’t help.
I could taste the spookiness on my tongue.
I wish I could tell you where I started to explore, but I can’t. I was in the twilight zone, another dimension that seemed to mirror this world, yet a thin veil kept one trapped in this place.
Explore all you want, but you can never leave.
A makeshift ladder is before me, menacing, intimidating and unsteady. I quickly gauge my nerves vs. my resolve, then start to climb. Once I reach the top, I look back down and almost throw up, lose my footing and start to stumble back down. Somehow, I steady my gait and continue onward.
I swear I hear the laughing rattle of hidden serpents.
The desolate landscape plays music in the wind, flute chimes and piano keys softly churn out haunting melodies throughout the canyon walls.
It pulls me in deeper, this place called The Badlands.
