Saturday, July 13, 2024

South Dakota: Centennial Trail Day 4 - Sheridan Lake to Rapid Creek

 South Dakota: Centennial Trail Day 4 – Sheridan Lake to Rapid Creek
 6/8/23 – 14.5 Miles

Good morning from Sheridan Lake Campground

After yesterday’s ugly finish, I packed up with determination to push through our plan for the next 2 days: hike 14.5 miles today to Rapid Creek Trailhead and camp nearby, then a half-day hike (6-ish miles) the next day to Deer Creek and detour to Whispering Pines Campground where we’ve sent our resupply boxes. We'll clean up, rest up, chug lots of sugary soft drinks, and camp there. Yes, I can do this!

By the shores of Sheridan Lake

At a trail junction, Flume Trail loop goes right and the CT turns left to cross the dam 

A fancy wooden bridge crosses the lake’s outlet to Spring Creek 

Looking at Sheridan Lake from the bridge

Looking at Spring Creek from the bridge

This bit of trail was an old road bumping along up and down to Dakota Point Trailhead. The popular picnic area is .8 miles away, but we didn’t bother entertaining the idea of checking it out.

After crossing Sheridan Lake Road (Highway 228) we walked along several miles of old roadbeds and cattle trails, taking in the expansive rolling hills and open grasslands. CT 89 trail markers were few and far between.

What storm clouds?

Water reservoirs for cattle – in very dry conditions CT hikers have filtered water here
 (fortunately we didn’t have to)

We stopped for a brief break in prairie paradise, melting into the idyllic scenery, and discovered we both had cell service (don’t judge). As I texted with Jim, Nancy checked the weather and suddenly jumped up: “We’d better get out of here and into some trees.”

Oh, THOSE storm clouds…

Nancy’s lightning tracker app showed a LOT of activity coming towards us. Her serious expression sobered me up as we walked quickly, then sprinted, turning off the exposed trail to run down to lower ground. We looked for a grove of trees of similar height so we could sit apart from each other to reduce the risk of us both getting zapped. (Don't think about it don't think about it don't think about it)

We sat and listened to thunder booming as a light rain fell around us, followed by glimmers of sunshine. Nancy’s app indicated more storms were forming, so we got back on trail, keeping a quick pace as we continued descending. This was definitely NOT FUN.

We moved away from the storms as the trail crisscrossed gravel Brush Creek Road and more single track, passing through brief stretches of pine stands, open fields, and gates to keep cattle in/out.

Dandelions along Brush Creek Road

As I walked the miles between Brush Creek and Rapid Creek, I pondered yesterday’s degree of difficulty, my extreme tiredness, my ill-fitting backpack, and the unnerving dangers of quickly developing lightning storms. What adjustments could I make to do this for 5 more days? Can I just suck it up? Tomorrow this time we’ll be at Whispering Pines. Will a shower and real food be enough to reset?

I felt hotspots on my feet and called a timeout to take a look. Sure enough, several blisters were forming, which hasn't happened to me in years. Hmmm.

Nancy continued to monitor the weather forecast, indicating that rain was coming starting tomorrow afternoon with a total washout the day after. My pondering increased to serious deliberation. I strongly dislike (hate) setting up a tent in the rain. How many adverse conditions add up to discontinuing my hike? Did I just not train enough? Is it failure or is it wise to stop before I do more damage to my body? Do I care if I am judged? If these conditions discourage me, what does that mean? Am I declaring an end to my backpacking life?

Another consideration: Nancy has been incredibly supportive, but she isn’t here just to help me. She is hiking for herself as well. If I decide to stop, she can continue to “hike her own hike,” certainly faster. The sooner I tell Nancy what I’m thinking, the sooner she can make her own plan.

A ray of clarity: being outside fills my soul, but not with a 27-pound backpack in thunderstorms. The inclination to end my hike became a decision and then a resolution. It’s okay to let go of completion goals. Waves of peace and relief came over me and feelings of doubt dissipated. I shared my decision with Nancy and we talked over the logistics going forward.

Ahhhhhh…my load felt lighter already.

Rapid Creek Trailhead at Pactola Basin Road was a welcome sight (hello pit toilets – yay!) but not a good place to camp because of easy accessibility for party people. We scouted around for a protected hidden spot. There was a stand of mature Ponderosa pines right beside the creek, but this didn’t look appealing in the event of another lightning storm.

We crossed Pactola Basin Road in search of a place to pitch tents closer to the water, but there wasn’t enough vegetation to screen us from the road.

Ultimately we decided to camp tucked in under the small grove of Ponderosa Pines, secluded and close by the creek. A curious person would have to walk right up in there to see us. (The pit toilets were still close enough for convenience.)

Nancy boiling water on her backpacking stove

We ate supper relaxing by the creek, entertained by Nature’s show. We watched two trout in a pool, facing upstream and holding steady, as though they were taking a rest. A pair of Canada geese and their brood of six goslings paddled merrily with the flow.


Sure enough, a thunderstorm rolled through around 1:30 a.m. There wasn’t much we could do underneath those majestic tall pines except wait for it to pass and go back to sleep. 

“Thunder on a hot summer day reminds me
 that change happens when we least expect it.”
~Anonymous


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