It’s been a while, to say the least, since I’ve journeyed to South Dakota’s Badlands National Park. I have fragmentary memories of it as a small child, and although I can’t recall any specific areas of the park, I can recall the incredible formations and knew, deep in my soul, I would one day return. That promise was fulfilled, and it is every bit spectacular as I remembered, and even more so with my adult eyes. When the ideal conditions come together, nothing can beat the fabulous vistas and views of the badlands wall! Especially when a storm comes, as we’ll see.
Badlands National Park’s primary feature is its wall. The rock formations that make up the wall vary in height from a few feet to a few hundred feet, and carve an east-west path through the heart of South Dakota. Much of the wall, while not impassable, per se, is very difficult to cross. Instead, it is far easier to traverse the wall at a pass, which is an area where the wall is less steep. You might have to go way out of your way to get to the nearest pass, but it is the only way.
The wall formed due to erosion and uplift, and in so doing, created layers of rock and a geologic record. The wall is in-process, and up to an inch is eroded every year. An inch doesn’t sound like much, but over time it certainly adds right up.
So, picture this in your mind: the wall has steep sides, jagged rock formations, has spires and peaks, dips and valleys, and is hundreds of miles long. It is, for me, an irresistible magnet, one that called to me from my childhood, and its siren song was answered.
Before we continue, I’ll point out that Badlands National Park also features vast swathes of prairie. Here, the untouched prairie, with tall grasses and wildlife such as bison and prairie dogs, rolls for endless mile after mile. I wandered through those undulating hills day after day, and in a later adventure, we’ll come back to those explorations. What at first glance appears to be nothing more than grasses is, in fact, a diverse, comprehensive ecosystem with untold wonders within it.
For now, though, we’ll stay on, in and below the badlands wall in the North Unit of the park.
This photograph, Overlook: Badlands, is an excellent introduction to the park, I think. Here, you can see the rock formations of the wall, as well as get a sense of the sweeping expansiveness of the park. I’m perched on an overlook several hundred feet above the rest of the formations just after sunset. This particular sunset was one I didn’t think would work out. The late afternoon was cloudy and overcast.
I was certain the sun had no chance of making an appearance, meaning there was no chance of anything interesting happening at sunset. How wrong I was! Just as the day was ending, the clouds started breaking up and clearing faster than I thought possible. The sun, taking full advantage of the broken clouds, laced the sky with surreal purples and pinks, something which I, and you, will come to appreciate later in this story. For now, though, here at this vantage point, the rocks below reflected the colors of the sky, creating this dramatic scene.
As I watched the drama unfold before my eyes, I thought back to the days of long ago. What was it like before there were roads, and paved roads at that? What were we thinking as we wove our way through the wall, ascending and dropping back down as we found our way? I can only imagine these experiences, and frankly, am glad that we move freely through today’s park.
I stayed at this overlook as darkness crept in and stole the color away, but we have so many more scenes to explore.
As I moved through the park, there were several places that caught my attention and I found myself drawn to. I know, I know. That’s not easy when the entire park demands your attention, but for whatever reason, some areas spoke to me more than others.
These spires are one of the areas that captured my imagination. I photographed them numerous times, both at dawn and sunset, as well as even the middle of the day. I photographed them from the road. Not only that, but I climbed a peak high above them, just to see what the view held for me. I photographed them as a sweeping panorama and up close and intimately. In the end, I like this version the best. Although the spires are rugged and jagged, and tell the story of how difficult this landscape is, I think it also speaks to the splendor and beauty of that very harshness. There is beauty here, all around, and for me, Badlands Spires showcases that.
As I kept coming back to this scene, I noted how the rocks changed character and color throughout the day. Each hour of each day brought a different mood to the park and its wall. At times, the rocks were bright and at other times, dark and reflective. When the sun was high overhead, the rocks were pale and stark, but during the early morning and late evening, each place took on a life and character of its own.
This view, Badlands Closeup, shows off the wall during sunrise. The sun was barely cresting the distant horizon over the prairie, lighting up the wall. The early morning light, coupled with the long and dark shadows, creates an intricate interplay on the rock. The striations vividly stand out, and the overall effect is magical. As the sun soared into the sky, the scene changed yet again, creating an ever-changing landscape. As I mentioned earlier, it’s hard for me to pick just one scene to share with you, since each one was incredible in its own way.
Badlands Storm over the wall
During my explorations of the badlands wall, one day in particular was fascinating. In fact, it was the forecast for this day which drove my decision-making to be there in the first place.
When deciding when and where to photograph, weather is almost always a primary consideration. After all, since I am a landscape and nature photographer, by definition, I am outside, and the weather affects everything I do. I knew I wanted to photograph Badlands National Park, and looked for a promising set-up regarding weather. I found it. Although there are never any guarantees when it comes to weather, I knew I had to try. A series of summer storms was in the forecast, and hopefully, those would happen.
They did.
I left myself plenty of time to become acquainted with the park again. It had been forty or more years since I’d been there, so I was starting with fresh eyes. I spent some time scouting for the locations that looked promising, then settled in and waited to see if the forecast was right.
It was.
The day began with clear skies and looked like any other summer day. Hot, with gentle breezes, the morning said it would be the same as any other. But by mid-afternoon, the hints of change were there. Wispy clouds began appearing in the sky, and the previously gentle breeze now had an intensity to it. The thin clouds began coalescing and gathering, and it was now apparent that something was going to happen.
As the afternoon wore on, the white clouds were now tinged with gray and grew thicker. The breeze was now a genuine wind, and continued to pick up speed. Now dark storm clouds began to roll across the sky and the sound of distant thunder rolling over the plains was audible over the wind. Speaking of the wind, it was now steady and strong, and continued to intensify. It was so strong, in fact, that bits of sand stung my face as the wind hurled them at me.
The storm was coming.
It was going to be much bigger than I expected.
I could hardly wait.
Amazingly, the dark and heavy clouds did not cover the entire sky, and the sun still shone. This coincidence allowed me to create Badlands Storm.
I really like this photograph. I was a short distance from the wall itself. Close enough to pick up the details in the rocks, but far enough I could create the photograph as a panorama. The green spring grasses, covered in yellow flowers, provided the perfect foreground for the wall itself. And the storm! It was coming in toward me over the wall. The wind was howling when I made this photograph, and I was having trouble standing without being blown over. The rain coming in, too, and I was pelted by sand and rain at the same time—that was an unusual sensation. I am used to being out in inclement weather, but the intensity of what was coming straight at me was frightening. The wall of clouds, rolling over the wall of rock, was a sight I won’t forget, ever.
Just as I completed this panorama, the storm broke over me, and I ran for cover. There was nothing to do but wait as the storm roiled over me, unleashing a fury that only a summer thunderstorm can bring.
What I was truly waiting for was not the storm itself, but the moments after the storm. It is in these moments that I’ve made some of my best photographs, and I was hoping today would bring another opportunity.
It did.
Two of them, in fact.
The first opportunity came as I was driving out to an overlook I scouted before. This particular overlook, in my opinion, is the prettiest in the entirety of the park, and it was here that I thought I had the best chance for an astonishing photograph. I was slightly out of position, though, mostly because I was working on the previous photograph. That was no problem—it was only a short way there. It would take a little while for the heavy storm clouds to move out and, hopefully, leave me with awesome skies to work with.
But along the way, I checked at another area I had been looking at. It’s difficult to put my finger on what caught my eye here. It wasn’t that it had the best views—for it did not. But now, with the storm-tossed skies and the late-afternoon sun once again streaming across the land, the view transformed into something else entirely.
Now, the golden light poured over the rocks, bathing them in an ethereal glow. Shadows played across low hummocks in the foreground, and the wet greens of the spring grasses absolutely glowed in the light. True to the hope, the sky was filled with interesting clouds. Everything came together to create Badlands Sunset. The pact and the promise of the storm was fulfilled.
This is what the badlands wall looks like when the conditions are perfect. I could not have been happier.
And I was about to get even more happy.
The sun was already low on the horizon, and I knew I needed to scoot quickly to my chosen location. I was hoping against hope that the post-storm conditions would hold up, and I would be able to make the photograph I envisioned.
I arrived in plenty of time, and so far, everything was looking good. Moving quickly, I gathered my equipment and headed off for a short hike to wait. Where I immediately learned an important lesson about the badlands.
Earlier, when I scouted the locations, I had no problem moving around. I could go up and down any hill I wanted, and the surface was smooth, hard, and easy to walk on. I didn’t even think twice.
But after a rain? Ah, that was a different story. After the first couple of steps, I felt my feet were heavier than normal. I didn’t think much of it, and figured I was tired. It had been a long day, after all. In another couple of steps, and truly, it couldn’t have been more than a dozen, my feet were really heavy. I looked down and realized that I was now wearing mud overshoes! Every step I took added more and more mud, and now I was having trouble moving. What was a solid surface was now almost liquid. I was not expecting that!
There was nothing for it, though, and I trudged onward, now much slower and far more careful. Somehow, I managed to minimize the amount of mud that I took with me. I made it to where I wanted to be, and waited.
The sun slid below the horizon within moments of me being there, and I readied myself. I was looking for the moment after sunset after a storm, and it would work out in the few minutes or never. I did my best to remember to breathe.
The distant horizon showed some pink. My heart beat a little faster.
The pinks spread across the sky, little by little, then racing across it. The pinks gave way to some purples and the hues intensified and deepened—a rare treat, indeed!
Now I was not breathing at all as I made Badlands Vista.
And just as soon as I did, the hues quickly faded. The pinks and purples turned into gray quicker than I thought possible. Perhaps distant clouds covered the sun, but it was OK. The moment I planned for, traveled for, and hoped for came to me there on the badlands wall in South Dakota.
I stood there for a while, not to make any more photographs, but to enjoy the moment and the park heading into night.
Eventually, I headed back, and a funny thing happened. The mud was gone, and the surface was now smooth, dry and hard again. It was remarkable how quick the water was absorbed. At least the walk back was easy for me!
This won’t be the last time I’m at Badlands National Park, and it won’t be the last time you are, either. There are some stories of the prairie and those that live there to be told, too!
Bring the Journey Home
Imagine how stunning Badlands Sunset and Badlands Vista will look in your home. Oh wait! You don’t have to image at all. I can create these beautiful photographs, just for you, and you can always have some of the badlands of your very own!