My boyfriend and I saw this as we drove through the Black Hills of South Dakota at dusk. We always regretted that we didn’t stop in for a drink or a sandwich, but we were nervous about finding our campsite in those hills once we lost the light of day.
Seeing something like that in the middle of nowhere reminds me of the funny story Frank McCourt tells in ‘Tis, his followup to Angela’s Ashes. He is just off the boat, Irish, a young man in New York City … and he wanders the streets … looking for shamrocks. Of course they are everywhere, because Irish pubs are everywhere … but any time he saw a shamrock, he knew he could enter and feel welcome. I do not have that immigrant experience but it’s in my blood somehow, because even though I’m not into that whole kitschy Irish shamrock thing (I never wear green on St. Patrick’s Day – my father drummed that rule into our collective skulls) – I do have an emotional response to it. It’s welcoming. I know what it means.
I still love this picture. Glad we captured it. What a random joint. And NOTHING was around it. Just hills and trees and winding treacherous roads. I’d love to try and find it again. (And please. Don’t ruin the magic by Googling and giving me the address or informing me that it has been demolished or that there’s a Starbucks now, or whatever the case may be. That would ruin it. Only exception: If you actually live in the Black Hills and can tell me a personal story about that place, I would LOVE to hear it!)
But I think it would be best to just trip over it again … randomly … find it again, as if by accident, and you can bet that this time, whatever the hour of day, I would not pass on by. I would pull up my car, and stop in to have a cup of coffee and chat up the locals.
In any case, I like to imagine it is still there.
It almost looks like it’s someone’s home — like they named their home “Irish Gulch” with a big ol’ sign atop it. Either way, what a great place.
I know! We had seen signs warning us that it was coming up – you could get a cup of coffee for 50 cents, whatever, so we were curious to see it. I mean, look at that!
My son &I own the Irish Gulch, it is a hunting and summer rec. cabin. It looks quite a bit better now.
Rich! Oh my gosh! I had always wondered if that place was still there – we drove through in 1991 – I am so glad to hear it is!
The Irish Gulch is my Dad’s friend’s cabin there. We would go up to the Black Hills every year to hunt and would stay there. It’s a great place in a small town with a lot of history.