Probably the most prominent geomorphic feature in the Black Hills of southwest South Dakota are The Needles, of which the Needles Highway (SR 87) is a must-drive. En route to the crest, one particular horseshoe curve has a limited parking area for this week's travelogue: The Cathedral Trail.
From afar they look like needles...this trail lets you get up close and personal to a part of them, hence being aptly named "cathedrals". The trail is not long at all, and not a strenuous grade...if you go to the ridge line saddle and turn around, that is.
You have the option of going further up into The Cathedrals, which is more of a scramble and less of a trail. Technical rock climbers flock to the permanent climbing routes throughout these formations, so you can see lots of 'rabbit trails' throughout.
It was not the sunniest of days...well, one minute it would be, and the next minute low dark clouds would come overhead and threaten rain drops, giving a mystical feel to an already mystical feeling place...
Native Americans refer to these as Grandfather Rocks, honored ones who know all and have seen all through the ages...just looking at this picture below, you can see many faces...in person, they shifted as I moved...as if they were watching over me...
Unless you are a technical climber, there is a practical limit on how high up you can clamber...the very thrill of the rock energy and being on top of the world there makes you look for one last place you can ascend....
...and lo and behold you'll come upon these lush green pockets of thick grass that beckon a nap in the cooling breezes...or just lying there and watching the clouds pass overhead along with a circling Golden Eagle from time to time...
And so you relax, take it all in, check out all the nooks and crannies, and feel the sudden chill from your sweat with a rush of cool mountain air, even in the heat of summer...
...and then one very dark cloud moving overhead telling you this is NOT where you need to be should lightning start to pop! Luckily it didn't. Before you know it, 30 minutes becomes 3 hours, and you hardly realized it. That's what it's all about.
From afar they look like needles...this trail lets you get up close and personal to a part of them, hence being aptly named "cathedrals". The trail is not long at all, and not a strenuous grade...if you go to the ridge line saddle and turn around, that is.
You have the option of going further up into The Cathedrals, which is more of a scramble and less of a trail. Technical rock climbers flock to the permanent climbing routes throughout these formations, so you can see lots of 'rabbit trails' throughout.
It was not the sunniest of days...well, one minute it would be, and the next minute low dark clouds would come overhead and threaten rain drops, giving a mystical feel to an already mystical feeling place...
Native Americans refer to these as Grandfather Rocks, honored ones who know all and have seen all through the ages...just looking at this picture below, you can see many faces...in person, they shifted as I moved...as if they were watching over me...
Unless you are a technical climber, there is a practical limit on how high up you can clamber...the very thrill of the rock energy and being on top of the world there makes you look for one last place you can ascend....
...and lo and behold you'll come upon these lush green pockets of thick grass that beckon a nap in the cooling breezes...or just lying there and watching the clouds pass overhead along with a circling Golden Eagle from time to time...
And so you relax, take it all in, check out all the nooks and crannies, and feel the sudden chill from your sweat with a rush of cool mountain air, even in the heat of summer...
...and then one very dark cloud moving overhead telling you this is NOT where you need to be should lightning start to pop! Luckily it didn't. Before you know it, 30 minutes becomes 3 hours, and you hardly realized it. That's what it's all about.
"We too should make ourselves empty, that the great soul of the universe
may fill us with its breath."
- Laurence Binyon
