Something Spooky Lives in Badlands National Park

My Badlands Experience

During my recent trip to Badlands National Park in South Dakota, I expected towering rock formations and huge valleys. I expected crystal clear skies perfect for viewing the Milky Way. I even expected to see an abundance of wildlife. But there’s one thing I did not expect to see, and I’m still looking for answers.

When I was researching the park for my trip, the paid campground was full. Thankfully, there is another campground that’s free to stay at. It’s first come, first serve and as I learned once I made it to the park, its 26 miles from the visitor center. Originally, I had planned to make it there before dark so that I’d be able to simply enjoy the scenery while I crocheted. Plans change, however, and when I learned that there were two ranger talks happening back to back at 9 pm, I decided I didn’t want to miss them.

I abandoned my original plan and decided I’d first explore the park to find the campground and then I’d head back to the amphitheater and crochet while I waited for nightfall. At first, I turned right instead of left, which ultimately led me to drive the entirety of the Badlands in search of my campsite. At about 12 miles from the camp, you have to turn off the main road. At the turn, the road changes from asphalt to dirt. I only made it about a half mile up the dirt road before deciding I had a good enough idea where the campground was. With no means to reserve my campsite, I turned around and headed to the amphitheater.

Once the program was over and after milling about looking at stars for awhile, I made my way back to my car. Checking the time, it was about 10:20 pm. I’d use that to gauge how far I’d been traveling to know when to expect my turn. Thankfully, it had cooled down – I’d been driving with my windows down for hours. My car didn’t have AC, but at the late hour, I was fortunate enough to only need one window rolled down (as opposed to all 4). I chose the front passenger side window to give my ears a reprieve from the constant wind.

I made my way through the park and successfully located my turn. The road is laid out in such a way that once you turn, you’re on a dirt road for about 6 miles until it turns to pavement again. Then, you’re on the pavement for about 5 more miles until the final stretch of dirt road. In this part of the Badlands, the rock formations are on one side of the road (my driver’s side) and its open prairie on the other (my passenger’s side). It’s very beautiful during the day and very dark at night.

It was about 11:00 pm when I pulled onto the dirt road. As I was looking around trying to decide if I could see any of the landscape, I saw a woman walking alongside the road, where the prairie meets the dirt. She appeared to be wearing a large hiking pack on her back, with her hair loose and cascading over top of it, giving her a humped appearance. Her hair looked aged, as though her blonde, frizzy waves were becoming more silver than gold. I thought it odd to see someone hiking so late at night, particularly without any sort of reflective gear or a headlamp. It’s open hiking country, though, so I assumed she was just following the road to avoid getting lost, as there wasn’t even moonlight to guide her.

As I approached the hiker, I could see her hair ruffle near her temple as though she had reached up and ran her fingers through it. I continued to watch her, and as I began to pass, there was something startling off about her appearance. She had no defined features nor any difference in color between her hair and her clothes. She no longer appeared to be wearing a backpack, or honestly, she no longer appeared even a human at all. I can only describe what I saw as a hunched figure. In hindsight – had I seen it move at all? I know I saw the hair move, but had they made any progress toward their destination?

I’ve never went from calm to scared so quickly in my life. The figure seemed too close to my open window and far too inhuman for my taste.

As soon as I passed, there was no longer anything left to illuminate it – no moon, no streetlights, no other cars. Knowing such, I still checked my mirrors and looked behind me. I don’t know what I had hoped, but there was nothing to be seen. It was just…dark.

With several miles to go until the camp, I could not let go of the unease of what I’d seen. I didn’t see anything else, thankfully, but my weariness continued. As I reached the camp, the thoughts of this…thing…were pushed out of my mind by my worry that I might not find a place to sleep.

I parked at the first place that was available and immediately began setting up my car for sleep. It was windy and I could hear the flapping of the tents around my campsite. While I was putting up my curtains, I heard something that made my blood run cold. It was a deep, heavy snorting. My thoughts returned to the figure I’d just seen and to something possibly even more dangerous. What if, just outside what was illuminated by the interior lights of my car, was a bison? They were plentiful in the Badlands and that sound was definitely close enough to put me at high risk of being gored. I strained to see through the dark but it was fruitless. I pushed the thoughts out of my mind and continued setting up for bed.

Once everything was in place, I had one last task that I needed to accomplish before I could settle in for the night. I had to go to the bathroom. Fortunately, this spot was very close. Unfortunately, not even the bathroom had lighting. I decided I’d wait a few minutes and let my eyes adjust to the dark and then make my way without a light.

As I made my way down the dirt path to the bathroom, I began to hear the grunting again. My pulse quickened as did my feet and try as I might, seeing the source of the sound was impossible. Finally, when I turned the corner and found myself behind the concrete wall shielding the campsite from the view of the bathroom, I turned on my phone flashlight. I hurried into the bathroom looking for creepy crawlies and took care of my nighttime routines.

After finishing up, I made the choice to keep my flashlight on. Good choice or bad, I was quickly reminded how much of a false sense of security a light provides when the sound returned. This time it was quieter and I couldn’t determine the direction it was coming from. With my light on, my eyes were no longer adjusted to the darkness, so I could see even less than I had on my way to the bathroom. I quickened my pace and hoped whatever the source was hadn’t approached and would hopefully keep its distance. My decision to keep my windows half open for ventilation that night was questionable, at best.

Six hours of sleep later, I awoke to tents being blown sideways as people rushed to pack up. What was over 100 degrees the day prior, was now overcast and just under 60. It was welcome. With the daylight, came new information. I could now see the positions of the tents surrounding the area, the nearest being about 30 feet away. It was then, as I was rearranging my car and finding my new day’s clothes, that I discovered the source of the grunting from the night before. It was a camper who was still sleeping so soundly he was snoring. Same pitch, same volume. That put me more at ease, but I wouldn’t go so far as calling myself silly – I still saw something out there and who could blame me for being nervous at the sounds coming from the darkness after that?

Once I packed up and made my way out of the campground, I made it a point to scan the prairie for anything that I could’ve mistaken for a hunched figure. Perhaps it was a tree near the roadside or a large bunch of weeds or grasses. Those could both make complete sense.

As I made my way back the 12 miles to the turn, I couldn’t find a single thing that would explain what I saw. It was flat prairie with low grass stretched as far as the eye could see. The area is known for its otherworldly feeling and paranormal activity, but even after researching unusual events in the area, I came up empty handed.