Rain, Hail, and Cheese Curds: Camping in the Black Hills
Our campsite in Black Hills National Forest, was settled in a valley just outside Rapid City. A small, lively creek meandered just a few steps from our bus. Beyond it, giant boulders were scattered throughout the field, covered in vibrant green moss.
After we settled in, Jeremy unpacked his drone, eager to take in the surroundings from above. The late afternoon sunlight skimmed the treetops, casting golden highlights that danced with the shadows of towering pines that encircled Sheridan Lake. I sat outside with a glass of champagne and watched the deer come out to graze in the twilight.
The next morning, we woke to skies heavy with gray clouds, their looming presence hinting at an imminent rainstorm. Determined to make the most of the day, we set off for the lake. The trail followed the creek, meandering until we eventually met up with the road and walked along that until we the lake came into view. At the boathouse, we paused for a snack, and Jeremy returned moments later, cradling an enormous bag of cheese curds.
He plopped down next to me with a sheepish grin and shrugged. "Slim pickings—they just opened for the season," he said. Lumps of cheese in a bag?
Yes, please.
One minute, it’s sunny…
The next it looks like this…
We sat overlooking the lake, munching on the salty curds as the first fat raindrops splattered onto the deck planks. Sensing the storm's arrival, we packed the rest of the cheese into Jeremy's backpack and quickened our pace back to the bus. Moments after we climbed inside, the skies unleashed a torrential downpour.
Rain streaked down the windows and pounded against our skylight. Thunder growled overhead following sharp lightning strikes. We curled up with books and cuddled the dogs, trying to ignore the fact that the bus was leaking from several windows and slow, steady drips were soaking into the wood window sills, sending Jeremy into a frantic panic.
Poor Zero shakes and quivers with every thunder
The storm grew stronger, bellowing and wailing in anger until its rage swelled into a crescendo of sugar cube-sized hail pelting the earth. The chaos raged briefly before the storm began to lose its power, its cries fading into a soft murmur as it finally spent itself and fell silent.
With the trails refreshed and glistening, took a few laps around the camp sites before turning in for the night.
We woke that morning to clearer skies and the grass glistening in heavy dew. Before leaving, we ambled down another trail that cut into the woods, the dogs only too eager to sniff and explore, undeterred by the mud.
We were sad we didn't have more time in this serene place, but the show must go on, or in this case, we were headed to our next destination: Sioux Falls.