Wall Drug. Shot on FujiColor C200.
The wind blew hard across the open prairie as we drove alone through rural South Dakota. The biting cold coated the landscape in a layer of glittering frost as we drove through the wilderness. We were headed to the Badlands, but before we got there I made a life-changing pit stop.
It all began as soon as we left Rapid City; ancient-looking billboards started to pop-up advertising some place called “Wall Drug”. “Free Ice Water – Wall Drug,” the signs began. “Have you dug Wall Drug?”, “87 miles to Wall Drug”, “Bring Your Camera – Wall Drug” we read as we drove to the Badlands. A dinosaur even graced one sign. Why? I still have no idea. I was perplexed; what the hell is Wall Drug? Did it even still exist? After all, the signs looked at least twenty years old. Is it a pharmacy or some kind of drug-themed theme park? I couldn’t help but be intrigued by these cryptic, amusing signs.
After mounting arguably one of the most effective advertising campaigns I’ve ever seen, we couldn’t not stop at Wall Drug. I mean, who doesn’t want free ice water on a frigid winter’s day? We took the exit that at least 15 or so Wall Drug signs pointed to, and rolled in the town of Wall, South Dakota. Snow and high winds raked the obscure town. I imagined tumbleweed blowing across the empty roads. After meandering through the town following more of Wall Drug’s ridiculous signs, we arrived. Turning onto a narrow street lined with two story buildings, Wall Drug and its surrounding novelty stores (probably intentionally) looked like the set of a Hollywood western. Every store had a wooden front with a porch and some even had hitches for horses. Across from the “local saloon” and an alarmingly anachronistic medieval castle, Wall Drug loomed over the block.
At this point, we were both pretty confused. I figured that Wall Drug was some kind of old-timey drug store (which was partially true), yet Wall Drug was a massive building, about the size of a Walmart. It seemed awfully big for a “free water” and drugs store. Unclear exactly which door to enter, we opened one and wandered in. As if the outside of the building wasn’t confusing enough, the inside of Wall Drug looked like Disneyland: a faux-cobblestone “road” ran down the middle of the store, with various smaller stores and a chapel lining this indoor road. The interior of Wall Drug mirrored the exterior, designed to fit into a spaghetti western. There was also a Zoltan fortune teller and a petting zoo outback— you know, just in case the Wild West isn’t your thing.
The place was spooky. Early in the morning, there wasn’t another soul in the store. In fact, it took us a while to find even an employee. We essentially wandered through this possibly vacant, cartoonish “Wild West” general store with Zoltan laughing periodically. The fact that we weren’t kidnapped by marauding banditos or raiding Indians seemed out of character.
Stopping into the first store we saw, I could have purchased everything I needed to become a cowboy: boots, hats, belts, holsters, spurs, vests, fake guns. As tempting as it was to get myself an authentic cowboy hat, I could neither justify the price (most near $100) nor the usefulness of such a hat considering it was freezing cold outside. Moving to the next store, we found amazing western artwork. Indian pots from local tribes, paintings, and other sculptures lined the shelves. I was particularly fond of the pottery, however I knew that trying to fit a pot into my carryon luggage (which was packed as to begin with) would not end well. So I opted for a Christmas ornament, because those aren’t fragile or anything.
Finally, we made our way past Zoltan and the apparently “original” drug store after which Wall Drug is named, and into the more modern, tourist store on the other side of the “road”. Like everything else in Wall Drug, nothing could be left normal. Jackalope busts lined the upper parts of the walls and were extremely tempting to purchase. Trinkets of every variety filled the store, along with some goofy signs (“Have You Dug Wall Drug?”) and any number of tasteless trucker hats. To make things more interesting, past all the trinkets, there was a cafeteria selling dirt cheap coffee and pretty solid food. Better still, Wall Drug’s donuts were so good that went back for seconds… and thirds. Try the cake donuts when you go, you’ll thank me.
Undoubtedly Wall Drug was completely bizarre; nothing really made sense. The Wild West theme wasn’t consistent— Zoltan, dinosaurs, and a quaint cafeteria ensured that. Yet, Wall Drug also possessed undeniable charm. I’ve never experienced a place quite like it; completely out of touch with reality and succeeding in its eclecticism. I entered Wall Drug a skeptical greenhorn and left an enthusiastic Wall Drug faithful. It in itself provides ample reason to visit South Dakota.