Day 1 – A certain shade of green
Mile 0 to mile 15
Keith and I are tackling the Centennial Trail, a 110 mile long track that winds it’s way through the rolling hills of South Dakota. Starting in the south in Wind Cave National Park and terminating at Bear Butte in the north, the plan is to walk through this wild and remote corner of the state over the course of eight days. Today is day one of the hike and I wake to the pitter patter of rain on the tent and a forecast that calls for continued rain through the rest of the morning. So be it. I begin to get dressed. Dutifully, albeit reluctantly, dragging my rain jacket from the depths of my backpack.
The morning rolls and undulates away with the hills. Short yet steep climbs punctuate fields spotted with pine trees and eventually the rain slows to a drizzle before finally packing it in all together.
The afternoon smells like fresh sunshine after rain and the distinct butterscotch scent of Jeffrey Pines. We follow the massive footprints of buffalo though we never see the makers of said prints.
At night I fall asleep in a grassy field with the sound of birds and a burbling creek rushing in the distance.
Day 2 – Little pains
Mile 15 to 30 (+2mi RT detour to see Mount Rushmore)
Between the chafe and the blisters it’s hard to get moving and I curse the rain and my decision to try new shoes on this trip, respectively. Alas, miles don’t make themselves and so I peel myself up from the damp rock and get to walking. Hobbling at first then finding my stride.
Today the trail winds through open forest, a couple thousand feet of elevation gain materializing through a series of short, steep climbs and rolling hills. The terrain here looks like an undulating blanket thrown atop a yard sale of miscellanea. And while the beauty is undeniable the constant changes make it hard to fall into the sort of mile-churning pace of more consistent grades. Overhead the clouds race against themselves, several times dousing us with rain before nearly clearing. And so it is in this ride of inconsistency that the second day on the Centennial Trail passes.
Day 3 – Strong
Mile 30 to mile 44
Today I felt strong. Not the legs churning, miles flying sort of strong that comes at the end of the season, per say, but a competent, confident sort of strong. The kind of strong that says “I can do this.”
Because no matter how many backpacking trips I’ve been on, no matter the number of miles slogged through or hills climbed, some part of me is always afraid I won’t be able to do it. Eight days without a day off is no mean feat and coming into this trip I was genuinely worried I wouldn’t be able to cut it. That the milage and the elevation gain would get the best of me and that my stronger, fitter hiking companion would outstrip me in every way. On top of that, this hike is only a training hike for the 1,200 mile Pacific Northwest Trail that I’ll be attempting at the end of June. My spiraling anxiety linking these two trails in my mind so that failure at one meant the inescapable failure of the other.
But today, dear reader, today I felt strong and I thought to myself “I can do this.”
Day 4 – Limping
Mile 44 to mile 62
“I’m not really prone to blisters” I hear my past self say, cringing at my own hubris. I’ve just righted myself after a short water break and now must hobble the first 50 or so paces while my heavily blistered feet readjust to movement. Of course, there is nobody to blame but myself for my current predicament. Myself and my stupid sensitive baby feet, and these new shoes. Be smart and take heed, dear reader, and learn from my mistake that one six mile hike does not mean a pair of shoes are good for eight days of straight backpacking. Luckily, the end is in sight, for today we reached the mid point of the Centennial Trail, only four more limping days to go.
Day 5 – The middle, the end
Mile 62 to mile 72
The face Keith is making let’s me know that I must be a sorry sight, hobbling myself upright after a recent break in the shade. Despite tape and care my blisters have grown, multiplied, and in some cases ruptured making each step a small agony. Every downhill a mincing grimace.
Today the trail is composed primarily of dirt ATV roads, meandering through an open, semi-arid forest under a dazzling blue sky. The occasional butterscotch scent of Jeffrey’s Pines plays on the air and the temperature is neither too hot or too cold. It’s the sort of day meant for lounging and we spend a relaxed hour sitting in the shade watching processions of motorbikes and ATVs rattle past. With only ten miles on the docket there is little need to rush.
Despite my blistered feet I feel good today, capable of this funny little hobby I spend so much of my time and energy engaged in. Yet, for all the strength in my legs this hike is coming to an end and though disappointed I am at peace with the decision to not finish the Centennial Trail. Though no mean feat this trail was only ever a training hike for the Pacific Northwest Trail and I know that if I continue to push through on blistered feet with shoes that simply don’t work for me, then I’ll be putting my entire summer in jeopardy. I got what I came out here to accomplish, I feel that I can handle the early miles of a thru hike, and while not fast I believe that I can at least start with confidence.
My day, my trail, ends at the pizza place in Nemo, SD. Tomorrow I will my parents will swing by to pick me and Keith up and we will spend two days playing tourist in the Badlands before returning home.