South Dakota: Great Faces, Bad Choices

I’ve lived in the great state of South Dakota for all but 4 school years of my life. And I can call it a “great” state because that’s what the motto is:

“Great Faces, Great Places”

Get it? Because of Mount Rushmore?

Yeah, that’s right. We have Mount Rushmore. Suck on that, North Dakota.

We also have the world’s largest pheasant and the county with the highest poverty rate in the nation but that’s neither here nor there.

Anyway, as much as I love “SoDak,” I’ve come to the conclusion that our ancestors were all absolutely insane to settle here permanently.

Think about it; here you are on this long, arduous journey to the promised lands of California, Colorado, Oregon, or some place else but you get tired on your journey and decide to set up camp in what is now South Dakota.

Assuming you weren’t murdered by Native Americans your first night here for trespassing on their grounds, the next morning you would still wake up to find some of the most desolate, inhospitable land this side of the Sahara.

Sure, there are a few rivers and lakes and even an occasion tree (if you look hard enough) but for the most part it is dry land as far as the eye can see meaning that if you need water—which you do need if you want to survive—you would have to dig a well to get to it. I’ve read my Laura Ingalls Wilder and I know that digging a well was like… the worst thing ever.

First off, it is a lot of work, which is a word I avoid like the plague. Second, a lot of bad stuff happens in wells; bad natural gases that can cause you to pass out and die, poison in the ground that gets in your drinking water that can cause you to pass out and die, or even something as simple as Timmy falling down the well causing Lassie to come find you. Nothing good ever happens in a well. Just trust me on this.

He's either exhausted from digging a well, poisoned by gases from the well, dying from drinking from the well, or just fell down the well. I told you; nothing good happens 

Let’s now assume that you’ve survived an encounter with hostile Natives and dug a functioning well without passing out/dying/ or being saved by a (probably rabid) collie. You’re now going to need some sort of shelter for the 360 days a year when the weather is too hot/ too cold.

What’s that you say? You want to build a house?

Too damn bad.

There is literally no wood in a 50 mile radius of you.

Time for Plan B, which, in this case, means building a dugout.

For future reference, any time your living arrangement consists of a literal hole dug into the side of a hill with walls made of mud, it’s time to call a relator and find something else.

Home Sweet Hovel

Assuming that you eventually do build a dugout and are content living in a hole in the ground like a mole, let’s not face your next problem. You’re probably going to want to have some means to feed yourself and your family.

Not a problem. Why don’t you plants some crops and buy some livestock?

Oh wait.

Your crops are probably going to die because South Dakota weather likes to mess with your head. You think it’s finally good enough weather to plant your crops? Sorry! Freak blizzard. You think your crops are looking really good and you’re ready to harvest? Sorry! Baseball sized hail followed up with a tornado. You think your crops are right on target? Sorry! Decade long drought!

Dead, just like your hopes and dreams

What’s that? You think your livestock should still be fine?

Sorry but the blizzard wiped out half your herd. Another fourth died of starvation when you didn’t have enough crops to feed them. The final fourth died when they drank water from your well (I tried to tell you it would be poisoned).

All you have left is a scrawny little team of oxen. Let me offer you some advice: hitch those babies up and get the hell out of town.

Even your animals want to GTFO

Well, that’s what I would have done anyway. Apparently my ancestors, as well as most of the ancestors of the idiots still living here, weren’t smart enough for that. And neither are we, considering we still live here. Instead, we all freeze our asses off in the Winter when the wind chill dips down to -30. We then get super excited in March when the weather sky-rockets up to 70. We put the winter clothes away and throw on a pair of shorts and talk about how excited we are for Spring… until we wake up the next morning and find snow on the ground (literally happened last week). During the Spring we get so excited about the nice weather and think longingly of Summer until Summer is finally here… and we remember why we didn’t like Summer that much to begin with. Because suddenly it is triple digits outside and sweat drips off our body at a disgustingly alarming rate before evaporating immediately into the air. We suddenly long for the cool days of Fall. Unfortunately, Fall finally arrives and the leaves begin to change… for about 3 days before Winter is here all over again.

Seriously, why haven’t we left yet?