The Badlands are one of those places that stop you in your tracks. Strange, wild, quiet, and wide open. I never get tired of seeing the colors change with the light. Sunrise and sunset feel sacred here. Bison, bighorn sheep, prairie dogs—you see them often. They belong to the land more than we do. This isn’t just a sightseeing stop. It’s a place you feel in your gut. Raw and real.

This area is far from the crowds. No pavement, no noise—just open space and wildlife doing their thing. You’ll often see bison up close here. They’re calm but huge. Gives you some real perspective. I like stopping here to let folks breathe it in. It’s quiet in a way that’s hard to describe. Feels like the land hasn’t changed in a thousand years.

PThis is usually the first place that makes people go, “Wow.” And I get it—it hits hard. You can see forever out here. Layers of stone, sky, and space that make everything else feel small. It’s also one of the best spots for spotting wildlife. We’ve seen bighorn sheep right below the ridge. It’s a must-stop, plain and simple.

This place is easy to overlook—but it has deep roots. People hunted bison here long before roads existed. I like to talk about what life might have been like back then. You feel the past here. Not much to read. Not many signs. Just quiet hills and stories if you’re open to hearing them.

These hills look like they were painted. Bright yellows, purples, and pinks you don’t expect in South Dakota. They’re ancient soil layers pushed to the surface. A geologist’s dream. A photographer’s too. It’s one of the most colorful stops in the whole park—and people always want to get out here.

This is a heavy place. Named after Chief Big Foot, who died at Wounded Knee. He and his people passed through here during the dead of winter. It didn’t end well. I stop here to share the story. Not to bring the mood down, but to respect what happened. It’s part of this land’s truth.

This spot looks simple, but it says a lot. Imagine showing up with a wagon and being told, “This is yours.” Grasslands for days. Wind. No trees. Just you and whatever you could build. It wasn’t easy living. Still isn’t. But people tried, and some stayed. It’s a good place to think about what it took to start from nothing.

This short trail is great for kids and adults who want to see what lived here before us. It has fossil displays, fun signs, and it's flat enough for everyone. You won’t need hiking boots or water bottles—just curiosity. We stop here when people want something hands-on and easy to walk.

If you want to learn more, this is the best place. Clean bathrooms, great exhibits, friendly rangers. You can watch fossils being cleaned in the lab or ask real questions and get real answers. It’s a good stop to cool off, pick up a map, or understand what makes this place tick.

This is your first real “whoa” moment if you’re coming in from Wall. It opens up fast—layers of red, white, gold, and pink stretching for miles. It’s a great sunrise spot if you're up early. And the views are better than any screen can capture. Even after hundreds of visits, I still pull over for this one.

Wall Drug is weird in the best way. It started with free ice water during the Great Depression. Now it’s part diner, part museum, part wild west photo shoot. You can get a donut, sit on a jackalope, or find a pair of boots. It's cheesy, yes. But it’s also fun. And the coffee’s still just five cents.