Today is June 14th, Linda’s birthday. We both stumbled sleepily into a service station washroom in the early hours for a ‘comfort break’. As we sat there in adjacent cubicles, I sang ‘happy birthday’ very badly, but with feeling, to her. Linda’s is the first birthday of the trip, with Ben’s tomorrow. They won’t forget them in a hurry!
Our next toilet break came some hours later, about 7am, with most of the bus racing for the washroom building. 
We had strict instructions from Boot-Camp Drillmaster not to brush our teeth as it would slow us down. I’m put in mind of that TV programme following the life-changing experiences of snotty, challenging UK teenagers who skip school and terrorise their parents. The ones that are sent over to the desert or similar to be disciplined in Boot Camp. While our driver Charles is very laid back and stresses that this is OUR holiday, Sully insists on his way and obviously feels we need real hardship in order to experience the world of Green Tortoise. He mentioned a day or so ago, that he always says ‘no’ to suggestions, but then compromises. This is his way, and we just need to know it! So straighten your backs up there and eyes forward….. Actually, he has chilled considerably since Seattle – I reckon he’s happy to have a partner from Green Tortoise when dealing with recalcitrants like us who insist on democratic decision-making!
Mid morning, still in Wyoming (which is beautiful and lush) we reached Devil’s Tower, a volcanic plug, similar to Dumbarton on Clydeside, thrust out of the earth and rising majestically above the trees and surrounding hills.
It commands the same sort of reverence among native Indians as does Uluru in Australia, and many legends have sprung up around it. One Native American legend has it that while the boys of the family were out hunting, a sister became a Bear and killed all the family, apart from one other sister. 
This remaining sister and the boys who returned from hunting were pursued by the Bear and were helped by a Bison, a Slab of Stone, and a Tree. The Bison slowed the Bear down, the children took refuge on the Slab of Stone and the Tree caused it to grow up into the sky and out of the reach of the Bear, who nevertheless tried to grab the children and in doing so scraped great weals in the side of the rock with her claws. Nice story. The area is full of wildlife; in about 15 minutes I saw prairie dogs, white-tailed deer and a golden eagle. And countless other birds I can’t name.
And then there was Mount Rushmore – I honestly wasn’t expecting a great deal, just a couple of heads in stone… but I was really impressed with the visitors’ centre which demonstrated through photos and film just how this mammoth sculpture was undertaken. 
The artist himself, Gutzon Borglum, had an interesting life and great vision. And the men who sat on spindly harnesses and swung themselves around (no Health and Safety legislation then…) from single steel cables (no safety ropes) with heavy drills and chisels in their hands – amazing.
In response to the new Americans carving their presidents’ heads into the rock, American Indians hit upon an even more ambitious project: the sculpting of Crazy Horse – a much revered Chief – out of rock, only on an even more majestic scale. This was begun 50 years ago by a sculptor and on his death has been continued by his wife, ten children and even more grandchildren, and they estimate it’ll take another 50 years to complete. It is so huge that they reckon 4,000 people could stand on Crazy Horse’s outstretched arm. I would love to have seen this – even in it’s unfinished state. After all, I won’t be around when it’s completed anyway!
Our last stop of the day – before setting up camp – was the Cuny homestead, in the Badlands. This part of the Badlands is a reservation for Lakota Sioux Indians, and the Cuny family owns the area on which we would be camping. 
The Badlands are beautiful and quite haunting; they stretch for miles and can appear bleak… especially if you are on foot with no water, I suppose. They were formed 69 million years ago when an ancient sea stretched across what is now the Great Plains. After the sea retreated, leaving behind all sorts of sediment, there was a succession of changes geologically, as rivers and flood plains continued to deposit sediments up until about 28 million years ago. 
Significant erosion of the Badlands didn’t begin until a mere half a million years ago and this erosion continues to carve the Badlands buttes today. Eventually, the Badlands will completely erode away. They got their name from French settlers and/or native Sioux who recognised that nothing would grow in the soil. 
After driving along narrow roads, we finally came across directions to the Cuny Table. We were met by Tammy who, with her family, had cooked up a lovely meal of Indian bread and all the trimmings on top. They lived in a bungalow with one or two outbuildings, and a couple of dogs. A lonely existence in one respect, but set amidst a beautiful wilderness. They made us very welcome – even producing cake to celebrate Linda’s years on the planet! Just along a path which led up a hill, there was perched a blue toilet which we all visited, knowing there would be no facilities where we were camping. Rough stuff! A drop toilet, of course, but with a seat, which makes all the difference. 
And a novel way of displaying whether it was engaged or not. We could see changes in the sky by this time, and as we drove away we were aware of darkening, menacing clouds. A short distance later and we were at Cuny Table, the spot designated for our camp. We drove over the prairie, surrounded by the strange rock formations, and stopped at an area which had a small crater – nice for campfires and parties! The sky was darkening with rainclouds and we could see rain falling in sheets in the distance. And the odd fork of lightening. Several people (not me) decided to pitch their tents and as the rain began to gently fall they unpacked and set up. By the time the rain was lashing violently, and those outside were soaked, most tents were up. And then the wind came…. I don’t know what speed, but fast and wild. 
The prairie grass blew in all directions – so pretty, quite mesmerising. Some of the tents began to lose their fly sheets, those who were inside lay there, stopping them from taking off into the sky Wizard of Oz-like. A couple of tents collapsed….and then it was over. We battened down the hatches, and most of us settled for the night. No wild party in the muddy crater!
I woke once in the night – or rather early morning – and witnessed the most beautiful sunrise – a palette of colours appearing over the strange peaks and craters of the Badlands. A gorgeous spot. You can just imagine the history that has played out here….
Patamateria 