Black Elk Peak: A Long Walk and a Little Grace

Today was a great day. One of those days when you come home tired, happy, and feeling like the universe might have been trying to tell you something.

If you ever find yourself in South Dakota, you MUST go to Custer State Park. Yes, the park is named after a U.S. military leader whose historical résumé, in hindsight, leaves quite a bit to be desired. Let’s just say George Armstrong Custer was a bit of a dick and move on to the good stuff. Because this park is absolutely incredible.

Now, I could have just been there on a perfect weather day. Maybe I really needed a walk in the woods. Or maybe Custer State Park is simply one of those magical places where Mother Nature shows off a little. Whatever the reason, today was amazing.

We started our hike at Sylvan Lake and headed out on the Black Elk Peak Loop, a seven-mile hike with about 1,300 feet of elevation gain. Our destination was the historic Harney Peak Lookout, a stone fire lookout built in 1939 that is listed on the National Register of Historic Places.

Black Elk Peak is the highest point in the United States east of the Rocky Mountains. And here’s a fun little geographical tidbit: it’s also the highest point between the Rockies and the Pyrenees Mountains in Europe. That’s a pretty impressive claim for a mountain in South Dakota.

The hike was spectacular. We climbed through pine forests, passed enormous granite formations, and eventually made our way up to the lookout, where the views seemed to go on forever. We were told that on a clear day, you can see four states from the top. I’m not sure I could identify which state was which, but I was perfectly happy to sit there with my packed lunch and admire all of them.

After lunch, we headed back down, making our way along the Cathedral Spires, those magnificent granite formations that rise out of the landscape like something from another planet. It was one of those hikes where you keep stopping to take pictures, knowing full well that your camera will never quite capture what you’re seeing.

Now, you know Chad did not do this hike.

Chad does not see the purpose of hiking. As he likes to say, “It’s just walking without a purpose.” I understand his point of view. I don’t agree with it, but I understand it.

So, while I headed off to see what Mother Nature had in store for me, Chad happily settled in at Sylvan Lake with a book and the rare opportunity to be completely out of cell service. Honestly, we were both having a pretty fabulous day. He respected my need to go climb a mountain, and I respected his need to sit by a lake and not climb a mountain. Marriage is all about compromise.

I could stop right here and tell you that Custer State Park is beautiful, that the hiking is spectacular, and that you should absolutely put it on your list of places to visit. But something else happened on that mountain today. I had a moment.

I know Chad thinks hiking is walking without a purpose, but I think sometimes putting one foot in front of the other IS the purpose.

There is something about being out in nature, disconnected from the rest of the world, that gives your mind a little room to breathe. No phone. No emails. No distractions. Just the sound of your feet on the trail, the wind in the trees, and your own thoughts. And sometimes those thoughts need a little sorting out.

I had some shit going on in my head and a few things weighing on my heart. Nothing that needed to be solved at that exact moment, but things that needed a little space. So I walked. And I breathed. The yogi in me would tell you that connecting with your breath is what it’s all about. Being present. Finding stillness in movement. All that good yoga stuff. And I believe that.

But then something even better happened. I started walking with another traveler from our group. Her husband had also decided to sit out the hike, so the two of us found ourselves walking together. At first, it was just the usual conversation you have with someone on a trip. Where are you from? Where have you traveled? How did you end up here?

As the miles passed and we shared the beauty of the trail, the conversation became something more. We started sharing stories. Real stories. The kind that go beyond where you live and what you do. The kind that reveal a little bit of what’s going on beneath the surface. And somewhere along that trail, in the middle of the Black Hills of South Dakota, I realized something. I’m not alone.

The things that have been weighing on my heart, the things I’ve been struggling with, the things I sometimes think are mine alone to figure out—well, it turns out other people are carrying some of those same things. Different lives. Different circumstances. But some remarkably similar feelings.

And sometimes all it takes is walking beside someone, sharing a few stories, and realizing that the universe has a funny way of putting the right person on the same trail at the right time.

We didn’t solve the world’s problems. We didn’t even solve our own. But I came away feeling a little lighter. And that, my friends, is the magic.

If you’ve been reading Tailwinds and Tall Tales for a while, you know I love looking for the silly and the absurd in life. I love finding the humor in our adventures, especially when things don’t go quite according to plan. Laughing keeps me going. But today wasn’t really about the funny stuff.

Today was about a beautiful mountain, a long walk, a conversation I didn’t know I needed, and the reminder that sometimes the best things happen when you simply show up and put one foot in front of the other.

I started the day thinking I was going on a seven-mile hike. I came back with something I hadn’t even realized I was looking for. A little touch of grace.

And as for Chad? He got to finish his book. I’d say we both had a pretty good day.