DAY 05 - "Is that it?"

Today was all about cool rocks.

Planning on spending all day in the Black Hills, our first stop was 23.1 miles from Rapid City, all the way to the Mount Rushmore parking lot.

Now, throughout this entire trip, we’ve been pretty fortunate that, even during this government shutdown, the national parks on our list have been open.  The main visitor’s centers are, indeed, closed, but most of the cafés, gift shops, and even some information centers and bathrooms are privately owned, and therefore…open!

Steven was quite bothered that, after shelling out for a lifetime National Parks pass years ago, all the gates are unlatched, the booth shades are pulled: not a ranger in sight to collect an entry fee…or give the satisfaction of scanning a pass.

I am definitely not amused at all by this petty disgruntlement and do everything I can to ease his pain regarding that purchase…lol…

Okay, so, we paid the parking fee (shockingly enough, that part is privately owned as well…) and waltzed up the stairs that lead to the Avenue of Flags which opens up to Gutzon Borglum’s magnificent Mount Rushmore.

Before I get into this…a quick note to say that…we are all default products of our time and surroundings.

I think the best we can do in our own particular lifetime is seek to learn, question, and hopefully change for the better as we strive to gain a more comprehensive understanding of the world we live in and the people we share it with.

Critical thinking and compassion are fundamental.

We know Mount Rushmore was meant to be a shrine of democracy, but it is also a symbol of broken treaties, distrust, and cruel cultural displacement.

We can also recognize the controversy in Borglum’s legacy and a level of hypocrisy with the Founding Fathers, but let’s also ask if it’s reasonable to hold people from a vastly different environment to modern values.

So, with respect and compassion to the gravity of all that, I found this monument to be an incredible feat of artistry and engineering and was in awe.    *Steps off high horse*

Apparently, upon first setting eyes on this 285-foot-high sculpture carved out of a granite mountain, a lot of folks are nonplussed, even disappointed in its scale.

I mean, I’m not sure exactly what you people expected, but this thing is incredible! Dynamite and chisels…workers suspended in harnesses…and it only took 14 years.  Too small…get outta here!

If you know, you know...

We did the half-mile Presidential Trail loop and got to see up all different angles of George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Teddy Roosevelt, and Abe Lincoln’s noses.

The aspen leaves were golden yellow, the air was crisp, the sun was out, and you could practically see Cary Grant stride across the pine-needle laden forest.

Really a fascinating memorial: the thought, planning, and attention to detail that went into creating this is unbelievable.  I loved it.

Our next stop just 16 miles down the road and similar in a way, minus the thick controversy, was Crazy Horse Memorial.

Breaking ground in 1948, this colossal undertaking is 563-feet-high and is meant to stand for all North American Indigenous, not just the Oglala Lakota.

The monument’s sculptor, Korczak Ziolkowski, had a fascinating story and was sought out by several Lakota Chiefs to plan and design the feat, but they didn’t just plan and design a massive sculpture, the site is also to become a university and cultural complex.

It was interesting to see both monuments in the same day: one completed 84 years ago and one that regrettably gives off the uneasy sense that it may never be finished (certainly not in my lifetime). 

“Massive” is not a big enough word and with only 10 people working on this thing full time, averaging one cut per day, it is certainly a labor of love.

Full, yet starved, we continued on down to the town of Custer for a bite to eat before traveling to the evening’s destination: Devil’s Tower.

I had managed to snag the very last room on the very last day of seasonal operation of the Devil’s Tower Lodge and thought we hit the jackpot!

But as we drove the backroads of the park, concrete turned to gravel, signage went from official to hand-painted, and it felt we were primed for the beginning of a horror movie.

I was expecting something like the Crater Lake Lodge…you know…a giant, rustic log cabin full of hotel rooms, a restaurant, a bar maybe.

We rolled up to someone’s personal residence, painted yellow with red trim, a baby screaming inside…

Ladies and gentlemen…The Devil’s Tower Lodge.

Oof.

Unfortunately, we were in the right place and Rachel showed us her living room and kitchen (to which we had…la-dee-dah…full access), and our room, “The Grand Suite,” that had its own private entrance, bathroom, mini-fridge and, honestly, a pretty decent view of the Tower.

We settled in.  I apologized.  But the place wasn’t terrible by any means, just circumstantially humble.

Oh, yes we did.

Best part was the upper deck with Adirondak chairs that looked over the world’s first national monument and we popped a bottle of cabernet to watch the sun set on the 867-foot-tall striking geological formation.

And we pretty much had the place to ourselves; total isolation with only the sounds of birds chirping and glasses clinking.

For dinner, we drove into Hulett for a fantastic meal of bison ravioli and of course, a side of mashed potatoes in honor of Close Encounters of the Third Kind.

We got back to the lodge and were enveloped by clear, black skies, the Milky Way kissing east and west treetops, forming a starry rainbow over the national monument.

What. A. Day.

DAYS 06 & 07