About 52 years ago I took an extensive road trip on a Triumph T100R that I had arranged a loan on, and for which I had provided that individual with my car in lieu of payment.
A buddy of mine, Dick, was a novice motorcyclist, and the two newbies that we were decided to take an extensive motorcycle road trip. Our trip had just begun as we were on the third day of a three week to one month adventure tour, mostly in the United States. We had predicated the length of the trip on the basis of our finances. Essentially we decided that when we got down to fuel and accomodation for the distance it would require for us to return home, we’d end our trip.
On that third morning we found ourselves in South Dakota very near the badlands. We never prearranged our accommodations, either motel or camping, as we wanted our experiences to be determined by what we found on the road. We rode into Rapid City, and realized immediately that there was something unusual going on. Everywhere we went, there was a horde of tourists. After failing to find accommodation at the third motel, we were told that securing accommodation in Rapid City was highly unlikely as there were two conventions in town for the week.
I looked at my buddy, and we both said, “Camping” at the same time. We got directions to the largest campground and headed off, sure we’d find a place to put up our tent. Upon arrival, there was a giant handmade sign at the gate which said, “FULL”. We asked the clerk at the campground where we might find a camping spot, and he simply pointed to the hills in the distance, which was obviously the badlands of South Dakota.
We looked at each other and nodded. It was already after dinner when we set off. Driving down the interstate we saw a road that led off into the badlands, took the left turn, and hoped for the best. The road was dodgy, with soft sand, which made handling the Triumph a handful. We had just crossed a dry creekbed when we found what we thought looked like an ideal site. It was flat and mostly sandy, with a few rocks that we thought we could easily move.
We parked the bikes, unpacked our camping gear, and then began clearing the site. It was rapidly getting dark, so without any other thought than we needed to have a bite to eat and sleep, we did just that.
We had quickly fallen to sleep, having ridden about ten hours the previous day. I woke up in the dark, aware of a strange sound. It was a burbling sound combined with what I would describe as a low rumble. It took me a few seconds to make sense of the sound. Suddenly, my mind awoke, combined with an impending sense of panic.
I grabbed Dick by the shoulders and shook him, ”Get Up”, was all I said. “I think we’re in trouble.” I grabbed the flashlight that I had put down next to my sleeping bag and shone it down the creek bed. Less than a hundred yards away, I could see water. Without thinking any further I ran to my bike, started it and drove it up the slope to the roadbed. I ran back and started pulling stakes from the tent, Dick wasn’t even out of the tent when I tried to pull it out of the creek before the water arrived.
I was yelling at Dick, “Get the hell out, or we’re going to lose the tent. Get your bike out of the creek!” It was at this point that Dick realized the seriousness of the situation as the water actually reached both the tent, and his bike. He started his bike and drove it up to where mine sat, then ran back and together we dragged the tent, which was beginning to actually float, out of the creek bed and up the slope. The water continued to rise, and after draining the water from the tent we took out the contents and attempted to begin drying everything out.
Within ten minutes the creek was three feet deep and flowing fast. We found a large rock where we could drape the tent over it, while we waited for the sun to rise. We made a cup of coffee with the Piezo stove we had packed, and watched as the water raced by. Within about an hour, to our amazement, the water began to recede and two hours later it was reduced to a trickle.
The incident taught me a lesson I will never forget. Never assume anything. Know what you’re likely to encounter, and be prepared if and when circumstances change abruptly. While we knew that camping in the badlands posed challenges, our assumptions as to what the real risks were, was wrong.
I knew we were likely to encounter snakes, and possibly scorpions, I had done almost no research. The snakes, small prairie rattlers were generally never an issue, and scorpions, though existent, not prone to tent invasion.
What was a substantive risk, was flash flooding. In our ignorance we had picked the worst possible location for our tent. Low wadis or dry stream beds are obviously, in retrospect, a thoroughly bad place to camp. Additionally, we had no idea what the weather conditions would be that night. We had rain gear, what’s there to worry about?
Apparently, a lot more than we had anticipated. Again, plan your trip, particularly when you are dealing with locations or areas where you know nothing about the environment you’re going to encounter.
Ciao…
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