I left Minnesota bright and early Tuesday (June 27) morning, still reeling from the shame of the midnight car alarm. Truthfully, you have never seen anyone pack up a car so fast.
My GPS was set for Cottonwood Campground in Theodore Roosevelt National Park (TRNP), and my fingers were crossed that I’d get there in time to get a spot. I had heard such good things about this campground—it was quiet, beautiful, bison roamed right through the park—that in a rare move for me, I didn’t reserve a place to stay (you couldn’t reserve here by the time I’d figured out my route, all of the remaining campsites were first come first serve). Instead, I decided to play it by ear in the hopes I’d luck out.
Cottonwood Campground
Five and a half hours, two stops for gas, one stop for ice, a call with mom, a solid pass through my friend Kate’s epic Spanish music playlist, a couple of hours of silence as I watched the prairie grass sway in the wind while I drove past, and one stop at the Painted Canyon Viewpoint where I slowly scraped my jaw off the pavement after getting my first look at the buttes, I lucked out. I spent the next two nights as the extremely content occupant of campsite 2 in Cottonwood Campground, where I was privileged to enjoy sunsets and bison sightings like these:
I also enjoyed some very strong, made-on-the-camp-stove and cooled-on-the-back-of-the-Jeep coffee post morning yoga and pre-exploring. I have stayed in my fair share of fancy hotels, and all I know is that you can’t access that type of serenity at the Four Seasons. This, this is the stuff.
So now that you’ve seen where I stayed, and indulged my love of coffee, making it, and my love of all things Jeep, let me tell you a little bit about TRNP, because WOW.
My experience exploring TRNP
Some background, TRNP has a South Unit and a North Unit. The South Unit, where Cottonwood Campground is located, is a bit more accessible than the North Unit. The entrance is right off the interstate, it butts up against the quirky preserved Western town of Medora meaning more lodging, better bars (as in, actually near bars), all of the Western vibe you can handle, and it also has better roads. The North Unit has well, none of that.
Since I was staying in the South, I started with the South.
The South Unit
I don’t think either my words or even my pictures can do justice to this park and this land. Driving through the South Unit was magical. Winding roads curving around the painted buttes; layers upon layers of light pinks, beiges, and grays in every vista, highlighted by a mix of deep greens and fluorescent yellows as the buttes flowed out into the valleys of prairie grass; bison (so many bison), prairie antelope, wild horses, prairie dogs (whole towns full of them), birds sweeping in and out of view; and the Little Missouri River flowing right through it all.
I stopped at every viewpoint. I hiked every trail. I could not get enough of this land, these views, this feeling of wildness that seemed to permeate the air around me. And, not just that, I was almost always utterly alone. Yes, there were people at the viewpoints, but when I took to the trails, I often found myself alone in the middle of it all. I don’t think I’ve ever experienced a moment in the wilderness that was just mine, but hiking through the South Unit at TRNP it felt like they all were.
A few of my favorite moments from the day.
The result of my wanderlust as well as several stops for bison crossings on the way back to camp (see above), was that it was nearly 10:30 p.m. and DARK by the time I got back to camp. This probably doesn’t seem like a big deal, but when you are making all your meals outside it is a very big deal. Yes, I have flashlights, etc., but it’s much easier when you do your prep and cooking with light. So, I topped off my day of utter aloneness with a trip to Boots Bar & Grill for a bison burger and a Blue Moon. Don’t judge me. I know. I had my own moral quandary when I ordered the burger, but I was starving, it was recommended on the menu, and I said a prayer of thanks before I ate it.
The North Unit
If I thought the South Unit was magical, then the North Unit was like walking into Hogwarts for the first time. The trek there from the South Unit takes about an hour, the bulk of that being off interstate on a two-lane road that takes you right through the heart of the Dakota Prairie Grassland – Little Missouri National Grassland (usda.gov).
I didn’t know there was such a thing, National Grassland, but there is, and I am 100% a fan. I’ve focused so much on the buttes, that I’ve neglected to tell you just how amazed I was and am with prairie grass.
Like I said, on my ride to TRNP, I was so entranced that I turned off the music just to watch it sway while I drove. It moves with the wind almost like the ocean ebbing and flowing with the tide. I have never seen something solid move so fluidly, like its own little ballet for all the world to see if they choose to watch. For me, it was another bonus of the North Unit, not only do you get to watch it all the way there, but the last hike I did in the North was to Sperati Point. A two-mile hike which winds you right through the prairie to a lookout over the valley below. The lookout was the original appeal of the hike, but in the end it was the walk through the field of prairie grass that sticks with me.
The North Unit’s magic extends well beyond prairie grass hikes. If the roads wound through the buttes in the South Unit, they did it twice as much in the North Unit; if the trails were empty in the South Unit, they were desolate in the North Unit; if the South Unit felt wild, the North Unit felt almost untouched. At every turn and with every step, I felt farther from the world and closer to the earth. There was no other way to be, just me (or just me and Princess depending on if I was on the road or the trail), alone in these buttes soaking in all the wildness.
It’s no wonder that it was his time in the badlands, these badlands, just outside of Medora, that led Theodore Roosevelt to create the national park system. And whether I was sitting atop the buttes midway through my hike on Caprock Coulee Trail looking down at the bison crossing the river below, meandering through the prairie, or hiking beyond the end of every trail I could, I was and am glad that he did.
A few photos that will (hopefully) make you glad he did too:
After the North Unit
I feel like there are a million little stories and vignettes about my time at TRNP that I haven’t told you. I know I talked about being alone, but I did see people from time to time (for example, that is why I have the photo at the overlook above — the rare sighting of another human) and those encounters made for wonderful moments as well. But this post is getting long, and I think I’ve captured what I want to convey about this part of the trip. Though I do want to mention my biggest internal struggle while I was there before I sign off. It’s something that has been sitting with me since the Dells (yes, I promise, soon).
Before heading to TRNP I read a lot of blogs about the park, Medora, etc. Many of them recommended two days in the park and time for Medora. The Medora part usually worked its way into an itinerary for nighttime activities. So, when I planned this part of the trip, I tried to build in extra time to see Medora, the cute, quirky town that I’d read so much about. In the end though, I could not drag myself away from those buttes. Even when I set time limits for myself, like you’ve seen, I’d find myself just going a little farther on a hike or taking just a few more pictures. It was like I could not get enough of that land, so much so that I wondered about these bloggers. How did they tear themselves away? I couldn’t.
I did eventually see a little bit of Medora—taking a stroll around town, stopping in stores, looking at art, buying candy that I didn’t need (but definitely enjoyed)—before heading to Montana, my next stop. But if I had to plan it all again, I don’t think I’d do it any other way. Even if I’d built in another day or even two, I’d just end up outside, finding another trail, seeking out another view. Those moments outdoors, away from the kitsch, the “must sees,” and the “must dos,” those moments are exactly what I was looking for when I decided to get in the Jeep and leave D.C.
I’m hoping I stumble upon a few more along the way.
**Please excuse all typos, grammatical errors, and other weird punctuation. Sometimes the light in Princess isn’t the best for proofing. Since this isn’t a legal brief, I’m just going to let it go until I get to a place where I can fix it.**
wow, this looks amazing!! officially adding it to my list next summer!