The Badlands

After dropping off Annie and Faith, we headed for Badlands National Park—our ninth national park of the trip. On the way, we made a stop at Wall Drug. Lainey didn’t quite understand the hype. Thirty years ago, it was more of a novelty—a sprawling strip mall unlike anything else—but now, you can find similar spots in many places. Still, our guide “Bill” shared the history, growth, and significance of the place. Once there, the kids may not have grasped its fame, but they enjoyed themselves. They bought toys, climbed on the large statues, and saw an animatronic T-Rex. It wasn’t a long visit, but it broke up the drive and gave our little explorers a burst of energy.

Our arrival at the Badlands was spectacular. Wall Drug sits right next to the park’s western edge, and we entered just as the sun began to set. The already dramatic landscape became even more breathtaking in the golden light. With only a few hours of daylight left, we still managed to visit several overlooks, take plenty of photos, and check into the Cedar Pass Lodge before grabbing dinner ahead of the nighttime ranger talk.

Mary Ann had told us not to miss the evening program, though she never explained why. At first, I thought it might be a letdown. The rangers began by discussing the different types of grass on the prairies along I-90—not exactly a riveting topic after spending hours on that road. But I soon realized the talk was just filling time until darkness fell. That’s when the magic happened.

The Badlands are remote, meaning there’s virtually no light pollution. When night came, the stars were dazzling. The rangers used high-powered laser pointers to trace the Milky Way, constellations, and prominent stars. Mary Ann was right—it was an unforgettable experience. We saw and learned so much, even spotting a shooting star. Afterward, they had telescopes set up, perfectly focused for anyone to use. It was nothing short of spectacular, and all just a short walk from our cabin—a cozy two-bedroom with a living room, dining area, and kitchen. I wished we had a few more days there.

The next morning, our first stop was the visitor center to ask one important question: “Where can we climb?” Marley had been itching to scramble up buttes and hills at every park, and I remembered doing the same here 30 years ago. The ranger recommended a few safe spots prefect for ages 5, 9, (and 43). We chose the Door Trail.

The hike did not disappoint. Even before we officially started, the kids were scaling the rocky terrain. One thing that makes the Badlands unique is that climbing is encouraged. Unlike many parks where you’re restricted to trails and boardwalks, this one lets you hike right into the buttes. At one point, the boardwalk ends, and you follow yellow poles set into the hills to reach “the window.” The window itself wasn’t remarkable—beyond its historical significance—but the journey was pure adventure. The kids loved spotting each numbered pole and figuring out the best route to the next one.

It was a short hike, but exhilarating and a bit tiring. Days later, Marley still had a large bruise from sliding down a rocky hill. I’d half-expected an injury before we left the Badlands, so this was hardly surprising. Still, we left mostly intact—only slightly sunburned, happily worn out, and ready for the long drive ahead.