alive and well in lemmon, SD

and i do not say that lightly. it's hard to believe that everything that happened today happened in just one day.

it started out early - a woman i met at the grand river museum a few days ago and who learned i'd first heard of lemmon, SD in any real context when i read kathleen norris' book "dakota" back in 1996, invited me to church. the church where kathleen had stepped in as minister for a while (when she was still in lemmon). i told her i had thought about going by the church at some point (assuming it was the presbyterian church IN lemmon) and she told me that if i was thinking about going by the one IN lemmon, that that wasn't the one where kathleen had spent her time. the one she mentions in her book is east of here; ESE to be more exact. down not just one but 3 dirt roads with two other dirt roads in between - none of them marked. she drew me a little map and despite having made a wrong turn at the 2nd dirt road, realized the error of my ways and backtracked in time to be one of the first people of 12 to arrive. imagine my surprise when i arrived and saw this in front of the little chapel.

the people at the service were incredibly kind - none of them seemed the least bit phased when i responded honestly to their question of "what in the world brought you to SD much less to lemmon or this little church?" maybe they were just being polite but they seemed really genuine. and one man laughed until he had tears in his eyes when i told him about the walk in area signage and my wondering why i couldn't walk in with a loaded camera instead of a shotgun. he told me i could come to their place any time and walk the property. i thought perhaps i might just do that tomorrow morning as i was leaving lemmon and headed back to SSW SD.

after the services, i took off in the direction of mobridge so i could complete the NNE arc i'd mapped out. i was so blessed in that when i got to the memorial for sitting bull, no one else was there. the only thing with a heart beat anywhere near me was a herd of horses. then, all of a sudden, a really strong wind came up and the grasses and water on the river and everything in between started moving in all different directions. it really was something to behold. i don't know how long i sat there - it didn't seem that long - but then i heard another car drive up so i headed out. when i got back to the car, the clock indicated i'd been there almost an hour - it didn't feel that way.

from there, i went into mobridge and to the klein museum at the recommendation of a friend of mine who was raised there. he only learned that i was going to lemmon a few days before i was leaving and he gave me some of the greatest recommendations. not just of places i'd probably not want to miss but the routes to take to them and, he was right, it does make a difference. having been to one of the places now from two different directions (one of the times in error) i can say he really knows his SD.

from mobridge, i started out on the route i'd mapped out. the only thing i had to decide was whether to head north off of 20 at isabel (paved road 65 would have taken me back to 12 and although 65 would have been a new road, a good bit of 12 would have been a repeat) or to head north at glad valley on a county road/ dirt road. in SD, some county roads/ back roads are on the map as dotted lines; others aren't on the map at all unless you happen to have a county map which i did not. before i had to make this big decision, i was finally able to take a really good hike that was just a bit out of the way at a place called little moreau. once again, there was only one other person there and i hadn't been able to find any information about the place and there were no park rangers but i decided i was going for it. the trailheads all seemed overgrown but i threw on my hiking boots, made sure i had plenty of water in my pack and headed out. the first trail was a dead end into a small river or creek; the second trail was a dead end into a barbed wire fence but it was uphill a good distance so i not only got to work my muscles for the first time in a few days but had an incredible view from the top even though i had to turn around and go back down the hill. from there i walked around the lake (a much smaller lake than at ogallala) but it was so nice. not as long as i would have liked but that turned out to be a very, very good thing.

when i got back on 20 and hit isabel i decided to push on to glad valley and take the back roads. i'd taken the back roads every other day and, with my little compass on my dashboard, knew at least in what general direction i was going (most of the time). so i head north on the dotted line at glad valley. 'wait wait don't tell me' is on the radio followed by a program that was even funnier than 'wait wait' and i was laughing so hard. then i realized i had passed a dirt road that turned off to the right, looked at the map and my compass and decided i needed to turn around and go back to that road. a short while later, the radio goes dead. i've never had that happen before but there was nothing i could do about it so, other than being disappointed, it was no big deal. then this siren came over the radio (thank louie i didn't turn the radio off). the siren was intermittent so i thought "i sure am glad i ran into that guy in lemmon who told me the intermittent sirens are only a drill" when, as if she heard me, this woman comes on after the siren and says, "this is not a drill. this is a severe weather alert from the national weather service for south dakota." i'm thinking 'you cannot be serious' but i looked around and didn't see anything that looked all that bad. then she says, "the following areas can expect severe thunderstorms, golf-ball-sized hail, deadly (i swear she used that word) lightning and possible flash flooding. GLAD VALLEY (again, i swear, cross my heart), FAITH, LEMMON, PHILIP, IRON LIGHTNING and EAGLE BUTTE. if you are in that area, seek immediate shelter and, if low lying areas or areas prone to flooding, be aware of the potential for flash flooding." well, telling someone on a back road in south dakota to find shelter is like telling a mosquito to go land on the moon. now.

i started going a little faster while scanning the landscape for possible shelter. as it turned out, i was in one of the more cavernous/ butte laden areas which i originally thought was great because, if i had to, i could go hunker down in one of the caves. then i remembered my rattlesnake discussion with the woman in ludlow and decided i would take a tornado over a snake bite. then i remember my friend paula saying "just be careful when water's involved. i don't like bad weather that involves water" (or something close to that) so then - realizing that i am on a very low lying red dirt road at the bottom of all these buttes and caverns and open land - that i now have three possible choices if worse comes to worst - a possible close encounter with a rattlesnake, a possible close encounter with hail at best - a tornado at worst, or a flash flood.

being from texas i absolutely respect the weather and do not mess around but i also don't freak out. i may freak out about other things but i try to keep my head when the weather is involved and i'm pretty good in a crisis - when it involves someone else. after all, that was my job for umpteen million years.

the dirt road suddenly veered left and there, right in front of me was a sign that said "open range" and i had a close encounter of the 1st kind with a few of the open rangers. i rolled down my window and said, "don't you know you're supposed to be laying down? you don't get up until the rain has STOPPED!" she just looked at me and rolled her eyes. i mumbled something about the cows in texas being much smarter but then realized i had no room to talk and checked out the sky again.














at that point i told myself i REALLY needed to get a move on and that's when this beautiful, incredible, amazing landscape turned into a salvador dali painting - live and in technicolor. first, i passed a sign that said something like 'warning: low lying roads/ flash floods may occur' then - i swear to all that is good and holy - i ran over a rattlesnake. then as i came over a rise, i hit a patch of the road that they were obviously getting ready to raze but had, thus far, only put the gravel in the middle of the road and along the sides . . . that or they'd recently graded the "road" and the pickup trucks and tractors had already left their imprint so my little prius basically bottomed out in the center. after a few words that i was glad no one was around to hear, i realized that i'd only hit a rough patch and that i could get back to the center of the road which, by now, seemed absolutely positively endless. then i saw a ranch on the right and i thought, you may just have to go knock on the door but there were no cars, trucks or other vehicles by the house so i kept going and veered left after seeing a sign that said, "low water crossing" and, lo and behold, the friggin' creek or river or whatever it was was actually over the road already and it wasn't even raining. if it had been a concrete road i would have considered attempting it but it was mud, with big mud ruts on either side of the "road" over which the creek was running. i know i use the expression "god willing and the creek don't rise" fairly often but this time the creek did rise and i was not going to risk it. i sat there for a moment and looked up at the sky and said, "i can't believe this is really happening. i am in the middle of absolutely nowhere in the middle of this particularly uncomfortable situation and i literally have to turn around - in the middle of nowhere to head back to god only knows where in the middle of nowhere." i looked again at the campbell ranch as i passed it but, still, no one was home.

somehow, the road had quadrupled in length since i had first driven down it . . . i checked the 'bad patch' in the road and had not dropped my muffler when i bottomed out . . . the rattlesnake was still dead . . . and then i saw a white SUV coming down the road. they waved and started to pass when i stuck my head out my window and waved both arms. they stopped, rolled down the window and i said, "sorry to bother you but, i'm not from around here and, while i'm used to taking back roads, i'm not familiar with these and would appreciate some direction seeing as how we're UNDER A TORNADO WARNING." the man (who must have been mr. campbell) was driving and he and his wife were the epitome of a beautiful, young, perfectly groomed (from hat to silver collar tabs) ranching couple. mrs. campbell leaned over without her hat tipping the least little bit (i swear she looked just like jane seymour on whatever that western show she was in was) and said, "it's ok, just turn around and follow us. just past our place there's a low water crossing but you can make it. we made it this morning in this (SUV) - didn't even have to use the truck." i started to say "are you out of your ever loving mind?" when she added, "then again, there is a pretty big rut now - maybe you would be smarter to head back and go right at the T." i asked her if that would take me back to 73 and she seemed very impressed that i knew where i was in the middle of no where and said, "yes - it's longer than if you crossed the river but that's exactly where it will take you." i thanked them and said "just want to play it safe with this TORNADO WARNING and all." it wasn't 2-3 minutes before i saw a 4-wheeling ranch version of a golf cart headed toward me with four teen-aged boys on it who waved wildly at me and smiled. and they were followed by a couple of men my age in a pickup truck. i guess the campbell's were having a party and i wish they'd invited me; in fact i seriously considered crashing their party . . .
a little while later, as the road got longer and longer and the sky got more and more ominous, i thought "i bet mrs. campbell is thinking about now that they should have invited me to the ranch until the storm let up." i'll never know but the siren lady came on again and things were getting pretty bad and i hadn't even gotten to the turn off for 73 yet. but siren lady said the storm was moving at 60 mph so i decided i needed to go at least 10 mph faster than that when, for the first time EVER since i've been travelling the SD backroads, there was a speed limit sign. in the middle of nowhere. and it suggested the speed limit might be 55. i said "screw that" and continued at 70 not caring if i lost a muffler, blew a tire or anything else and, on some level, HOPING i might be stopped. unless they've deputized cattle, pheasants, rattlesnakes, meadowlarks, deer, horses or field mice, there was no chance in hell of that happening.

finally i came to 73 (which by many peoples' standards is also a back road - just paved) and turned north. the 13 miles to lemmon were the longest 13 miles i have ever driven. in fact, i'm not sure they have measured the mileage correctly. i have seen storms. i have seen bad storms. i have seen really bad storms. i have even been in two different homes when two different tornadoes passed nearby and in three homes through hurricanes. this beat all of them hands down. by now i was driving and looking over my left shoulder and seeing things i'd never even dreamed of. at one point, 3 lightning strikes occurred simultaneously and they were the mirror reflection of one another - just like in a cartoon only i wasn't laughing. i was in awe but i wasn't laughing. and, i swear, somewhere in the 15+ lightning strikes that i counted i said, 'thank god this isn't happening in arizona, new mexico or texas -- the whole state would go up in flames.' then, of course, i had a little mental debate going on about whether there would be enough water to negate any repercussions from the lightning when, on the left hand side of the road i noticed a motor boat by the side of the road with a "for sale" sign on it. i wondered for a moment if that might be a good option but decided that making it to lemmon would be much smarter and, besides, if it was my time, it was my time.

i have never been so glad to see a city limit sign before in my life. i was parked and in the lodge in less than 2 minutes. i did have another very brief mental debate as to whether i should park on the "petrified forest" sign that is actually made out of petrified wood side of the lodge, or at the back near the mobile home / office that is just behind the lodge or on the side of the lodge that was most protected but directly under the power lines. i decided on the petrified forest sign side - if it was petrified, it had clearly weathered some other bad storms in this part.

when i came inside i said, 'catherine - are you aware there's a severe thunderstorm warning with what looks like a tornado coming our way?' has everyone evacuated? there are only two cars besides mine. she said they had just gotten their electricity back on and that the lodge was half full but only two other guests had arrived for the evening. i said 'well, good luck to the other half even getting here.' she laughed and told me to be safe. by the time i got to my room it was absolutely black outside and the wind was close to the "train" sound. i went into the hallway and closed all the doors to the stairwells and other open doors. closed the shades, pulled down the curtains then did the same thing in my room.

knowing that a few of my friends are tracking my weather (bless their cotton socks) and since there was no internet connection, i tried to post something to FB from my phone but FB was having none of it. then the power went out. then it came back on. then i heard a train. then i took my pulse. then the power went off and stayed off. then catherine came and knocked on the door. she said, "what do you think?" i said i thought we were at least on the fringe of a tornado and told her that i'd closed the doors and blinds, etc. and she said, "good thinking." then she suggested i come to the lobby rather than stay in my room but followed quickly with "but it's up to you; whatever you want to do." i said that unless there was a basement, it really didn't matter all that much. if it got much worse, weather wise, it was either our time or it wasn't. she said, 'you got that right.'

it's now almost midnight at which point the warning is to be terminated. the storm has long passed us now and the adrenaline is out of my system. the latest radar shows the storm right over mobridge and sitting bull.

i'm going to wait until morning to see if the car is still where i parked it and if there are any houses in the middle of the road with feet with striped stockings and ruby slippers sticking out. if all's good i'll be taking the MAIN back roads (a/k/a paved ones that are solid lines on the map) down to manderson and then points north and west.

this is one day i will never forget although it still doesn't quite feel real. i'm very grateful to be safe and sound and i hope the other travelers i passed going in the opposite direction are safe and sound, too. my friend chris was so right about checking the weather regularly only she had suggested i stop in a truck stop once a day to see what was up -- that they REALLY know what's going on. the problem is, there are no truck stops in rural SD. and i haven't been able to find a ms. siren-lady weather station. i'm going to see if there's a better app for that tomorrow - i thought i had one from NOAA but it obviously isn't doing its job.

hanes is SO glad this day is over.