In my efforts to slowly transition my life into that of a travel writer/blogger, we have here a foray into nature descriptors, character development, landscape lust, and a true national park must.

B and I just returned from a trip to the Badlands — a stunning and desolate national park in the middle of nowhere the final weekend before they closed the park up for winter. My Bay Area makeshift cold-weather gear made an appearance, my bare skin did not. As much as your girl loves a good pair of ankle jeans, these were left behind making room for headlamps, all the socks, and the one puffer coat I own with a moody zipper and comes with its own sound effects.

The Badlands are a halfway-ish point between us in CA and B’s sister and brother-in law in NY. It was part honeymoon crashing and part adventure — researching all there was to do in the area and very realistically doing it all. The four of us traveled so well together and though this was the fist time I had met part of B’s family, it sure didn’t feel like it. Pretty early into our relationship, I was fortunate enough to hover over a shoulder in my own corner of the FaceTime screen — usually making an appearance in pajamas representing the PST timezone. Now we all got to meet IR and it made me feel not so bitter about the digital realm that allowed us all to connect in the best way we could over the last year and a half.

Getting to Rapid City involved a layover in lots of layers (our third visit to SLC within a month), an almost missed connector plane that went from hey-we’re-early to almost-missed-flight real quick. A Rav4 pick-up and an hour drive to our cabin under the most insane star-studded sky later, we arrived to our very cute cabin that but the ‘gl’ in glamping — the luxury of coffee pods and dual sinks but with the nature benefits of wildlife outside our door and being surrounded by butte beauties. Yes, it had a king size bed and yes, we chose make pillow forts and sleep in the day bed half the size.

Between daily sunrises and sunsets we laced up our hiking boots and explored the incredible sediment structures, grasslands, and open roads of southwestern South Dakota. We marveled at the caliber of coffee at our cabin cafe while scarfing down previously frozen but absolutely delicious breakfast burritos, giggled at prairie dog scurries at a remote gas station, stopped by a giant dinosaur sculpture, and read up on the history of the towns biggest money maker — Wall Drug (who earned its fame by giving ice water to truckers passing through).

Souvenirs were aplenty, quality food…not so much. The best meal we collectively had was at Wall Drug where we finally got to try the land’s Bison in the form of a hot dog and polish it off with diner-grade coffee, pie, and homemade donuts.

Our final full day was spent doing the touristy thing, seeing Rushmore, soaking in warm springs, and toasting the trip with the bartender’s own blend of whiskey before returning to our definitely haunted hotel.

An early morning drive back to Rapid City felt like true road-tripping. Hearts full, eyes half open, and an empty gas tank, we stopped for a final fuel top-off and said a wistful farewell to our four-wheeled companion that was a true road warrior. Coffee at the gate, naps on the plane and a fourth stop in SLC to round out more plane rides in the past month than in the last two years combined.

I went into this trip pretty blindly and came out with eyes wide open. I missed trips like this — part planned, part straight adventure. Being open to what the land and people offer, letting go of expectations and enjoying the expansiveness both in the landscape and in the feeling of connecting with others. Traveling with the four of us was such a joy as all of us love the little things and big natural phenomena. The perfect blend of laughter, life talks, and silence. The shared admiration of beanies, boots and booths in tufted leather. The search for good finds, great shots, postcards, and a good place to perch.

Until the next trip as magical as this one, we go on with our bad selves.