Palisades State Park is just a skip from the Minnesota border and several miles north of Interstate 90. The nearest town is Garretson, which is home to the delightful Devil's Gulch described elsewhere in these pages. I've heard it said that Palisades is the second most popular state park in South Dakota (after Custer, presumably) and I believe it.

Many Return Trips

I've been here a number of times and in all seasons; it's that interesting of a place. The first was in 1992 with a previous companion. This was on my inaugural westward voyage, and it's what hooked me on exploring out this-away. We stopped briefly for a lunch break, having seen some enticing photos of the place in the vacation planning guide that the State of South Dakota Tourism Department had sent us a couple months earlier. I remember crunching on a cold, crisp apple while staring at the magnificent palisades carved in red Sioux quartzite. Like I say, this was just a quick stop, but I vowed to return for a closer inspection.

Indeed, the following year (1993) found us at Palisades State Park once more for a brief tour before proceeding to Grand Teton National Park. And then in 1994 we came back yet again, this time for a weeklong camping expedition in the area, visiting Palisades, Split Rock Park in Garretson, Devil's Gulch, Pipestone National Monument and nearby Split Rock Creek State Park in Minnesota.

Click the thumbnail to enlarge the picture at the right. The park is characterized by enormous bluffs of quartzite overlooking the Split Rock Creek. By the way, I've noticed that some tourist literature refers to this as a river, not a creek. The palisades are a popular target for rock climbers; due to the sheer vertical sides, I imagine the ascent would require technical gear.

This isn't a big park, but there are enough amenities to allow for a really fun time, things like hiking trails, lots of nicely placed picnic tables for spectacular scenic views, a campground and some rental cabins. I've even noticed kids swimming in the creek, although I don't really know if this is hunky-dory.

On my next visit here in 1998 (with my present companion), we spent some time hiking the trails, as the picture to the left shows. The birding was pretty good, and the wildflowers were nicely in bloom. I particularly remember lots and lots of prairie rose along the path.

Up in one of the bluffs is a "cave", really just a simple opening. The legend has it that when Jesse and Frank James rejoined here after Jesse's miraculous horseback leap, they hid in the cave for a couple days to avoid detection by the posse. Perhaps this is nothing more than a tall tale, but it does add just a bit of mystery and suspense to the story of the Northfield Bank Robbery. See my Devil's Gulch section for more details.

We were here for some camping, and I'm happy to report that it's excellent. The sites are decently spaced, and quite a few of them are completely shaded by the trees. We bivouacked in a wonderful spot up fairly high, looking down on the valley. I remember a catbird singing right through the night, stopping only when the sun came up! And I loved listening to the nearby train, always a restful sound for me. I have one acquaintance who deplores the railroad while camping, but I find the rumbling and the tooting quite romantic — it reminds me of the Old West.

We Beat the Blizzard

But of all the trips we've made here, by far the most rewarding was our New Year's trek of 1999. In fact, my companion Marie is of the opinion that this is one of the best vacations we ever took anywhere, and I agree.

I alluded to camping cabins above. There are three beautiful ones here, available throughout the year for a very reasonable fee. Of course, these are quite popular, so it's essential to make your reservation pronto. At the end of December, a chunk of free time opened up for me rather unexpectedly. I wasn't really very hopeful, but just for the heck of it I called the Park to see if a cabin was available. Talk about synchronicity — the ranger informed me that someone had just called in with a cancellation, and the days we wanted were open! I don't think this happens very often...

So the trip was a go; we'd be celebrating New Year's Eve at Palisades!

The winter so far had been pretty brutal, just the way I love them. So both of us quickly prepared for the trip by getting all new hi-tech gloves and stockings. After stuffing the minivan full of extra clothing, food, a 5-gallon jug of water, charcoal grill and who knows what else, we were off. (Amazingly, we forgot to pack in a snow shovel!)

We had left right after Marie got off work, so traveled mostly after the sun had gone down. A goodly blizzard had swept through the area the day before, but the going wasn't too bad. Nonetheless, it was sort of spooky arriving at the park so tardy, with no one on duty.

Since we were arriving late at night on a long holiday weekend, the staff had packed it in for a break. However, I had made arrangements earlier that week, and true to his word, the ranger had left a key for us in a secret hiding place. Now came the tricky bit: getting from the entrance gate to the cabin itself. The roads in the park had been plowed, but due to the elevation changes and packed ice here and there, the minivan refused to ascend the final hill.

Repeated attempts were futile, and we came close to dumping the minivan in the ditch. We finally had to reverse our path quite a ways, and approach from another tack. I hope the rangers will forgive me going the opposite direction on a one-way road, but thanks to the blizzard that day, the park was deserted. I felt certain we wouldn't meet anyone, and we eventually got to the cabin in one piece after a bit of slipping and sliding.

It really was cold and the wind was fierce. I had visions of it taking hours and hours for the cabin to heat up. But when we unlocked the front door and stepped in...the ranger had anticipated our arrival and had turned the heat on! It was nice and toasty. I've said many times in these pages how superior I think the South Dakota State Parks are to any in the nation. Here was just another example of the wonderful service provided; let me thank the ranger for making us feel so welcome. Incidentally, the cabins are electrically heated, and also sport an air conditioner for muggy summer days.

Check out the picture to the left. Inside is a bunk bed and another bed which can also be used as a divan. There's a built-in dining table, nice windows to stare out of, a garbage can and a broom — everything one could possibly want.

We brought in our food, water, luggage and sleeping bags and settled in for a relaxing night of conversation, Scrabble and (of course) a celebratory cordial. We found that the floor of the cabin was so cold that it easily kept our food hamper going the whole time. But as mentioned, the heater did an admirable job of keeping us toasty. This was the life, listening to the wind whistle outside as we fell asleep to the purr of the heater.

The following morning had a treat in store for us: it had begun to snow again, big time. The two of us love snowstorms. And besides we had everything we needed to last at least a week. So we settled in for a great winter experience. It took a little gumption to get used to hiking to the frigid kybo in such brittle temperatures, but after once or twice you soon become acclimated.

Cooking isn't permitted in the cabins. Instead you prepare all of your meals out on the deck. We had packed in a charcoal grill, as well as a single-burner Coleman stove with a cast iron skillet. Fried eggs, sausage and toast were on the menu for that morning. It was still incredibly cold outdoors, so the gas stove really struggled to keep from freezing up. The meal, which would normally be done in a trice, took around a 45 minutes to cook, and the toast absolutely refused to brown. So we had plain bread instead, but it was great meal anyway. The instant I turned the stove off, the grease congealed in the skillet, making clean-up actually simpler than I had anticipated. A bit of a scrape, and we were done (avoiding dishpan hands in ice water.) P.S.: the Coleman bread toaster, designed to sit over the cookstove, is a piece of junk. It would probably make a nice frisbee, but ours found its way to the rubbish bin.

Our lunch and supper meals were cooked on the charcoal grill, which performed considerably more efficiently under the plummeting mercury. We had succulent camp bundles one night, a recipe I'll be writing up here sometime.

But after breakfast, we were ready for some hiking. So we layered the garb on, packed in a candy bar or two, and set out. As I mentioned, the two of us simply love winter and especially blizzards. It continued to snow and blow all day, which was just what we wanted. Our new gloves and socks were a great boon, and we actually hiked pretty much all of the trails.

The picture to the right shows King Rock, which we found on the other side of the valley. Nearby is Queen Rock. Note the brilliant red twig dogwood in front. On our return trip the trail took us under a slumped cliff, which gave some relief from the biting boreal wind; our faces were really getting chafed by now. Cameras and binoculars were freezing up solid, so it was time to return to the cabin.

This was a very pleasant couple of days in privacy. We only saw one other person the whole time, another hardy soul who worked his way through the accumulating drifts to a neighboring cabin.

Sunday came, and it was time to head home. We gave the cabin a final tidying up and sweeping, and headed to the car. Unfortunately, the weather had cleared, the roads had been plowed clean as a whistle and the engine started on the first pop. Damn! I was looking for a good excuse to stay on, but I guess we had to bid adieu to our winter paradise. Drifting snow was not a problem around the park; the grasses held it all in place. Out on the freeway, however, the bald mowed fields on either side offered no resistance to the blowing snow. About halfway home, near Fairmont, Minnesota, we almost gave up. The visibility was near zero in the fierce arctic wind, but eventually things let up and we pulled into Mankato, ready to start another work week.

Yes, it was back to humdrum work, but with a new spirit or outlook. For a blizzard in the Great Plains had indelibly etched our minds with the memory of one of the finest vacations imaginable.

• Federal
  • Grand Teton National Park
  • Pipestone National Monument
  
  
• State
  • State of South Dakota Travel and Tourism
  • South Dakota State Parks Homepage
  • Split Rock Creek State Park, Minnesota
  
  
• Municipal
  • City of Fairmont
  • Town of Garretson
  • City of Northfield, Minnesota
  • Split Rock Park, Garretson
  
  
• Other Interesting Sites
  • About Quartzite
  • Jesse James