It started on the afternoon of Saturday, February 23. I was hiking through shin-deep snow at the Big Sioux Recreation Area near Brandon when the first wind gust arrived. It wasn’t much. A rustle of branches at the top of the cottonwoods, a shiver in the tall grass still above the snow, then quiet again. Even so, it didn’t take long for another gust to arrive, just a bit stronger and more ominous. That was my cue to head home. I’ve been caught in South Dakota ground blizzards before, and I have no stomach to drive in one again.
Later that night, the wind rattled my bedroom window, waking me up a couple times. By Sunday morning, new drifts and travel advisories covered much of eastern South Dakota. I stayed in, cooked bacon with my eggs and happily sat it out. At least, that was the plan. By mid-afternoon I was tired of being cooped up. The wind still howled, but it was waning. The sun was out, accompanied by bright sun dogs. That was all it took for me to find my coveralls, my camera and head out the door.
I visited a few country churches within a 10-mile radius and accessible by paved county roads. I only got to one. In many places, the roads had only a single lane plowed and even that was quickly drifting shut. I was first stymied south of Benton Lutheran near Crooks. I could see the church, but I couldn’t see a clear path beyond a long stretch of drifting to the south. The gravel going west from town was impassable, as were most gravel roads in the area, so I headed north to West Nidaros Lutheran.
After re-acquainting my face with the joys of subzero wind-chills and getting a few shots of the church and the Old Nidaros replica, I tried for Willow Creek Lutheran just up the road. Nope. It wasn’t going to happen. I only made it a few miles north when I had to turn back and seek more plowed roads. From there I got on the interstate and headed for Brandon. Just south of town is an old, curiously shaped tree on top of the Eminija Mounds, an ancient Native American burial site that has always fascinated me. With drifting snow, sun dogs and a setting sun, I thought it would make a unique photograph. The snow was knee deep, and after nearly going face first into the white abyss I quickly realized that shorter strides work better in deep snow, no matter how appealing the scene is before you.
After the sun went down and I had a belly full of slow-cooked roast beef, carrots, onions and potatoes, I looked out the window and saw light pillars in the air above town. This winter is the first time that I’ve photographed this cold-weather phenomenon. Tiny ice crystals get blown aloft on high wind, subzero days with recent snow. These crystals catch the man-made light and turn it into magnificent light pillars that stretch high into the night sky.
My first good shoots were taken on the north side of Sioux Falls looking south into the city’s bright lights. Then I headed downtown to get shots over Main Avenue. I encountered drifts nearly as tall as me along the stairs of Tower Park. I don’t think I have ever worked so hard just to get down a stairway. After catching my breath, I drove up to the bluff beyond the Big Sioux spillway for my last set of photos for the day. And what a day it was. I don’t want to make a habit of battling blizzards for interesting photography, but I can’t say it wasn’t fun. I can’t say I’m not whole-heartedly ready for spring either.
Christian Begeman grew up in Isabel and now lives in Sioux Falls. When he’s not working at Midco he is often on the road photographing South Dakota’s prettiest spots. Follow Begeman on his blog.
