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- The toll gates to the South Dakota state park seemed to be guarding the entrance to another world. As I gazed past the horizon, the sun quarter set in the sky shining across the sand and the distant red mountains were the only familiar objects in sight . But here, these characters from a familiar story were actors playing a different role. The two sides of the winding road merged quickly into a line, giving me a true sense of the stretch between me, the mountains, and the infinitely distant sun. As we crossed the toll gate and entered the land of mars-like sand, I entered a sea of uncertainty. This road trip would be the last trip my family would take together. I had spent my whole life exploring all ends of the globe, and this would be our last explorative journey. Soon, I’d be off to London and would lose the familiar company of family. A huge part of me was about to disappear from right under my nose: a sinkhole devouring the comfort that fruitfully populated life. After more hours of driving, the jagged mountains that seemed so distant before began to creep up and quickly engulfed us in their shadows. A wave of darkness washed over me. When we crossed the shady path through the mountains, we were met with the true beauty of the Badlands . As I looked out the car window, veins of natural valleys spread throughout the land like invisible roots acting as anchors for the peaks beside them. Glancing into these cavernous roots, straight lines of white shale could be seen dividing the peaks into pieces at the same height for miles. I questioned what being could have shaped and formed these rocks. All my life I had been taught to trust science and believe that rock formations were made by erosion and changes in earth’s movement. But the rotten egg-like smell of limestone and mountainous formations around us was unlike everything I had ever seen. The sun, although now fully set , was still projecting shades of magenta and orange onto the clouds, and the red sand had cooled off into a lighter orange. The rays of sun peaking from the hills provided just enough light for us to stretch our legs and explore the cavernous land we had just encountered. I step-hopped out of the large Chevy Suburban: a huge full-sized SUV that the kind man at the car rental upgraded us to; I felt like I was an explorer discovering new a planet for the first time. The only visual rope keeping my conscious tied to the fact that I was still on earth was the sight of other humans around me. After many “oohs” and “aahs,” we continued our journey. Thankfully, we had reserved a motel in the park that was not far, because our sleepy party would not have made it on the three-hour drive to the entrance. We pulled into the parking lot of the motel, and the broken motel sign and the sight of people smoking cigarettes on their porches put my mind at ease. Now that the sun was gone, this motel was the most normal thing around. As we entered the room, the wet, pungent smell of mold assaulted my nose as the leaky air conditioner in the corner started whirring. My mother began to say, “Nope. Come on. Let’s go. You can’t be in this room with your asthma.” She was right, it would have been bad if I stayed in the room, I would have had trouble sleeping, but I pitied the poor motel worker who had to hear my mom yelling at them that her room was moldy, so I refrained from agreeance, “I’m fine. I can breathe just fine. Don’t worry about it.” As I sat down in bed to go to sleep, I quickly realized that I was about as fine as the person at a campfire that smoke won’t stay away from. With each wheezy breath, my lungs sounded more and more like the slur of drunk harmonica playing. I couldn’t take it anymore. I took my hard-as-rock pillow and went to the car. The motel area outside was silent now and the only light that could be seen was coming from the stars. As I slipped into the car and rested my head on the pillow, I glanced up through the moon roof at the stars. Here I was, in a place that seemed so familiar, looking at something so familiar, in a place that seemed to have been the most unfamiliar place I had ever been. Whenever I long for familiarity, I recount the experiences during my trip to the badlands , and I remember the familiarity I found in that foreign place.
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