South Dakota!
August 27, 2017

Wall Drug . . .

Where's Waldo and what is Wall Drug?  We don't really care about Waldo, but we certainly were curious about Wall Drug after seeing countless signs and billboards along nearly every South Dakota road we traveled, so a little research was in order.

This is what we found: It all began back in 1931 when Dorothy & Ted Hustead opened their little pharmacy in Wall, South Dakota.  As their first five years passed without much fanfare and their business languished, Dorothy had a brainstorm.  Those hot and dusty travelers coming through here are in need of a refreshing ice cold drink of water, she realized.  She suggested that Ted erect a series of signs on the road as it approached Wall.  Before he even finished the last one, road-weary folks were stopping in for the advertised free ice water, and while they were at it, they were buying ice cream cones and making other purchases.

Before long, the Husteads were hiring help to deal with the crowds.  What that modest beginning has morped into is almost not believable; however, we stopped in to see it with our own eyes.  It is the real deal.

Little Wall Drug has transformed into a full two-blocks-long indoor mall/museum/art gallery/restaurant/gift shop/historical treasure trove and maze of assorted oddities.  Annually, two million visitors go through their doors!

A person could literally spend days perusing their collection of more than 300 western art paintings and scores of fine bronzes.  The taxidermy mountings number in the dozens at least; there are hundreds of historical South Dakota livestock brands: all is professionally displayed and identified.  There is scarcely a square inch of wall or floor space that doesn't contain something of interest.

Then there is the fun - various automatons and amusements of every imaginable ilk, like the giant jackalope that these women were climbing on, laughing and having their pictures taken.  Everywhere people are learning something about history or art or the Husteads (the family continues to operate the business), dining or and/or enjoying themselves in one way or another.

In the midst of it all, a tiny drug store continues to dispense pharmaceuticals as they have for the past 80 years.

And of course they still offer free ice water.

Lemons . . .

In the same spirit of making lemonade when life hands you lemons, we encountered more South Dakota ingenuity along the way.  I expect it began something like this - Henry: "What are we going to do?  I can't make a living in this place; there's nothing but prairie dogs everywhere."  Martha: "Why don't we sell food that tourists can feed to the prairie dogs?"

And so they did.

A soddy . .

Next innovation: a historic sod-roofed dugout and prairie homestead.  No, we didn't feed the prairie dogs, but the homestead got our attention; we had great fun not only perusing the buildings but took full advantage of the offered period clothing.  Why not, I thought, get into the spirit of things and don one of the outfits hanging on hooks and talk the señor into playing along.

The place was homesteaded by Edgar & Alice Brown in 1909 and is listed on the National Register of Historic Places.  It was fascinating, well worth the stop.  I've seen sod-roofed dugouts before, but never been inside one.  My primary thoughts, unfortunately, were about not being able to clean that grass/hay wall and what might come down through the ceiling during rain and snow falls.

This is one of two window wells dug through the side of the hill to allow light into the rooms.

Henrietta and I developed a rapport.  I still miss having my poultry and livestock around.

This doctor from North Dakota at first took us for staff and was adamant about having his photo taken with us.

The Badlands . . .

What exactly the badlands might be was a mystery to me but I was willing to check it out, and mighty glad that we did.  Not only were we awed by the scenes spread out before us for hundreds of miles, but we vowed to return to spend a lot more time exploring that convoluted countryside.

Place after place offered breathtaking views of a colorful landscape entirely different from anything else I've ever seen, and we discovered that hiking out into it was even more exhilarating and fascinating.

During a hike out into Badlands, we walked by a herd of bighorn sheep that seemed completely unconcerned about our presence.  We stayed near them for a bit, but the entire time they went about their business as if we were not there.  It was really exciting to be so near them without an alarm being sounded!

In the Badlands and in the Black Hills, we encountered coyotes three different times, each one making his way unconcernedly but intently through a prairie dog town.