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.
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It pulls me in deeper, this place called The Badlands.
