Pilgrimage to Mount Rushmore

On Sunday afternoon, after church, we made the essential American pilgrimage to Mount Rushmore. As we had learned in advance, admission to the monument is free, BUT the parking is operated by a concession that charges a fee, in our case $11, which is not discounted for any Federal pass holders. The parking pass is good for the entire year, but I suspect few of Mount Rushmore's visitors are able to take advantage of that fact. We entered a multi-tiered parking garage and found a spot

before joining the many other visitors. Leaving the parking area, we approached the monument via a kind of concourse.

Despite the many pictures I've seen of Mount Rushmore, I never had any impression of the complex at the base of the monument, so it was somewhat of a surprise. Each of the pillars above bears state flags, with each state's year of statehood engraved on the pillar below its flag.  The concourse ends in a platform overlooking an amphitheater, where evening visitors can watch light shows. At last, we were able to gaze at the giant sculptures that have come to symbolize America as much as the Statue of Liberty has.

The sheer size of the sculptures, and their looming height, is awe inspiring. We spent some time in the visitors' center, which is tucked under the viewing platform, where a movie and numerous exhibits reiterated just how amazing this achievement was.

It was constructed from 1927 to 1941 under the leadership of master sculptor Gutzon Borglum, who said it was "the formal rendering of the philosophy of our government into granite on a mountain peak." Begun during the swaggering 1920s, funding became  a problem in the 1930s, and Borglum himself personally solicited funds so the project could continue.Borglum died in March 1941, but his son Lincoln oversaw the completion of the four heads. As the United States was entering World War II, the work stopped.

The process of carving the monument evolved as the work progressed. Apparently the initial concept was for three presidents.

Even as work progressed, the realities of the stone called for adjustments in the sculpture, and the models evolved as the faces emerged from the mountain.

The brochure calls Mount Rushmore "A Shrine in the Black Hills." I think that is a good way to put it. It is like a shrine to American ideals, and visiting here is a kind of American pilgrimage. But, it is more than that; it is a pilgrimage that draws visitors from all over the world. We heard many tongues as we strolled among the other visitors.

Upon leaving, we somehow managed to turn the wrong way, but as often happens, it wasn't really wrong at all, since otherwise we wouldn't have seen this view of the George Washington head.

Minuteman Missile Historic Site and Badlands National Park

After our visit to Wall Drug, we continued to Badlands National Park. On the way, we stopped at the Minuteman Missile National Historic Site, which explains how the Minuteman Missiles were positioned in the Great Plains as a deterrent during the Cold War era. While there are no longer active ICBM silos in South Dakota, there are still hundreds in other areas of the Great Plains. We were able to watch an explanatory video, but there were no tours available, due to elevator problems, we were told. That was disappointing, as I know Damien would have found it interesting.

A short distance further, we entered Badlands National Park. These eerie and rugged geological formations must truly have been "bad land" to early travelers, Lakota and French trappers alike, as both called the place "bad lands." While these formations are not confined to the Park, they do seem to be concentrated here.

Like an oasis in this harsh landscape, this "shelf" concentrated what water and vegetation there was, and this was used by early inhabitants of the area.

Finally, at the visitor center, we enjoyed a series of wonderful exhibits about prehistoric and present day life in the Badlands area, and the surrounding grasslands. I came away with new insights about the ecology of the Badlands area.

All Roads Lead to Wall Drug

We moved camp to Rapid City, SD, a short trip east. We have learned that many places are so rich in sightseeing that we are only sampling the choices. Rapid City is another of those places where I could gladly spend a month or two.

We set up at the Ellsworth AFB FamCamp. I haven't stayed at a lot of FamCamps yet, but this one certainly seems nice, and while not totally cheap, a good buy. Plus, WiFi (which a lot of FamCamps don't have), which varied between barely useable to pretty good, depending on the time of day. My theory is that some people are either streaming movies or gaming, leaving the rest of us mere crumbs. Around 9:30 each evening, it dramatically sped up.

The next morning we headed east on a day trip. Our first destination was Wall Drug. Wall Drug, in Wall, ND, was started in the early thirties, while the country was in the grips of the Great Depression and the Dust Bowl was compounding the misery. It gained fame through its brilliant promotion--signs by the road boasted of the wonders to be had at Wall Drug, and such gimmicks as free ice water--still offered--set it apart from the competition.

It grew from a small drug store/restaurant to an institution. Today, it's absolutely huge. When I stepped in, it was like stepping into a downtown mall.

 I couldn't figure out a way to get a real sense of it in one picture. It's huge. To the left, one wanders through "shop" after "shop", finally reaching the restaurant,

 the soda fountain, and the bakery, where Wall Drug's famous doughnuts are made. Camping equipment, books, jewelry, books, clothing, art,

gifts, sundries, boutique lotions and soaps--it goes on and on. There was even a chapel for the weary traveler!

 And just when I thought I'd seen it all, we stepped across the rear alley to a whole new section.

Across a courtyard, more attractions, some of them closed now that it is late September. A mining village

Do you see what's at the end of this indoor "street"?

When I got to the end of the street, buzzers sounded and lights flashed, and then this guy began menacing me.

Turns out he is set to "feed" every 12 minutes; I just happened to reach him at the moment he became hungry.

In the courtyard, Damien rode a giant jackalope,

and we got our first glimpse of Mount Rushmore. Well, sort of.

There was a big diorama narrating the history of the United States, culminating, of course, with the establishment of Wall Drug.

This place is huge, entertaining, and everything it's cracked up to be. It's well worth a visit, even if you don't buy anything.

Deadwood in the Black Hills of South Dakota

Our next stop was Sturgis, South Dakota, home of the huge, (in)famous motorcycle rally held each year in early August. We had made sure, as soon as we had a notion of where we were going, that we would be well clear of the crowd. While Sturgis in mid September shows everyday vestiges of its annual claim to glory, such as biker bars, a motorcycle museum, and numerous references to motorcycles in local signage, the town was calm. Here and there were bikers, but for the most part the town was what you would expect of a place only a few miles from the geographical center of the United States. 

We spent the better part of a week at an RV park just out of town. No Name City RV Park had great tv, Internet, a hot tub, and a smiling, helpful hostess. Damien got quite a bit of schoolwork done. We rested, as we were feeling like weary travelers.

But one day, we made a day trip to Deadwood. Deadwood was the site of a huge gold strike, and it is synonymous with several western legends. Its greatest claim to fame is as the site where Wild Bill Hickock was shot to death. Damien felt drawn to a personal relationship with this life size statue of Hickock that stands near the entrance to Deadwood's main street.

19th century western flavor is abundant, and the shopping, lodging, and dining opportunities are plentiful. Just as plentiful are the gaming opportunities. Casinos abound here, and if I hadn't known better, I would have thought I was in a Nevada town. Glancing in posh casino doors, I saw rows of slot machines and glimpses of other games. Uniformed staff stood at the entrances of the gambling establishments, ready to help potential customers get started, and valet parking was easily available. At least a couple casinos offered buffet meals, just as you would see in Nevada.

This hotel advertised a free celebrity museum, but when I looked in the door, the sight that greeted me was a casino. I'm not sure where the museum was, but, with Damien along, we directed our focus to other sights.

In the basement of one store, we found this fabulous model train. For two quarters, you could start it up. The size and detail of this setup are amazing, and it appears that more is yet to be added.

 Upstairs was an ice cream shop, a restaurant, and the most amazing antique store. The antique store carried very high end, authentic western antiques, all well labeled with information about the item. It was every bit as good as many museums I've seen, and, on the side of caution, I found I reverted to the hands-clasped-behind-my-back posture that my mother taught me when I was five. Some of the price tags were breathtaking, and I didn't want to have any mishaps that would test the limit of my credit cards. So, while I heartily recommend this antique store, I offer the caveat that it is not appropriate for small children. But by all means, show the little ones the train and get them some ice cream. Here is the front of the shop, so you can find it, should you be looking for it.

There are several plaques around town that tell more about the amazing history of this town. In addition to the miners, cowboys, and outlaws, there were the Chinese and the Jewish businessmen. The town was quickly modernized and by the turn of the (last) century, Deadwood boasted up to date technology and architecture. Three major museums further educate visitors about local history. We only had time to visit the Adams museum.

Additionally, there appear to be a number of private collections for the visitor to peruse. We wished we had more time here and I look forward to coming back another time.

Close Encounter of the Devil's Tower Kind

Our friends, along with another family, were planning to head over to Devil's Tower National Monument in northeast Wyoming. They invited us to camp with them, which was perfect, since it so happened that was our next destination.

There is a campground near the base of Devil's Tower, so the tower's presence is constant. I wanted to show our trailer parked in the campground so you could see how close we were to it, but I'm afraid one of the guys couldn't stop goofing around.

We arrived mid-afternoon, hoping to secure a group campsite for everyone, which was the plan, but there was no way the group campsites would hold 3 RV rigs, so we took a site across the way, half price with our handy Senior pass. The others didn't arrive till well after dark, as they had workdays to complete before leaving home. Amazingly, they managed to squeeze two travel trailers and two pickups into one group site--in the dark!

Next morning, the Tower wore a halo.

Shortly before noon, we all set out for the visitor's center, 2 miles further up the road, at the base of the Tower.

And then we set out on the hike around the base of the Tower, about 1.4 miles. Our friends' daughter Emily, who had had foot surgery, actually tackled and completed the hike on crutches!  We paused near the foot of the trail for this photo op--actually, the kids kind of clambered up and demanded we take photographs, so we did.

The base of the Tower is strewn with huge boulders, and boundary signs mark where you may go without obtaining a climbing permit. About 5000 climbers visit this challenge every year, and there are, I understand, over 250 routes to the top, of varying difficulty. Our friends had tackled it, and Alan, the husband, had done so several times, sometimes all the way to the top; sometimes not. He had his climbing shoes with him and couldn't resist doing a little climbing on some of the rocks down in the "free" area. He is hoping that his entire family will share the achievement of climbing Devil's Tower sometime in the future.

There were a couple climbers on the far side this day. I only got a shot of one. From where we were standing, far below, we could hear every word the two climbers said to each other. Note to self.

There were some wonderful vantage points for looking out at the surrounding countryside (you can probably guess it kept trying to rain),

and the trees surrounding the base bore the scars of trial by fire.

The native people have different names for this volcanic extrusion. They call it Bear Lodge or any of several other names that reference bears. One version of the story is that one day 8 children were out playing, 7 girls and their brother, who turned into a bear and threatened them. They climbed onto a tree stump, and the tree stump rose high into the sky, saving them from their brother the bear. You can still see his claw marks on the sides of  it, and you can still see the 7 sisters, for they are now stars in the sky, the constellation we call Pleiades.

The next day was Sunday, and our friends had to leave for home, and work. The morning light on the Tower was beautiful.

 We decided to stay another day. We visited a nearby small town for fuel, and back at camp, we visited our neighbors in the prairie dog town.

As dusk closed in, we realized we were getting seriously low on battery power. It had never been below 1/3 before, and now it registered empty! Our water pump is really greedy of power, and I hadn't been monitoring it. The lone light we had been using was feebly yellow, so we switched it off and grabbed flashlights. Then I learned that the refrigerator, even though it was running on propane, could not run at all without at least some battery power. Great. We went to bed discussing how to bypass the new electric tongue jack in the morning.

It wasn't until the next day that we realized the tongue jack was the least of our problems. We have two large slides--how were we going to get them in? We got out the manuals and realized we might be in trouble. Then, Jan had the idea of going to a neighboring camper to borrow a generator. When the neighbor across the road fired up his generator and plugged us in, the slides came right in, and the tongue jack was able to do its job, too.

No, we're not going to rush out and buy a generator, but I sure see the value of it now. However, there usually is another camper around with one if we find ourselves in similar trouble again, which we don't plan to. So, for now the generator will just be on our wish list. But not at the top.

The Long Trail to Little Big Horn

We made our way over the mountain and to Belgrade, near Bozeman, where Jan's former college roommate lives. We would have been happy just to stop by, but he and his wife are so incredibly hospitable that we ended up staying 3 nights.

On the way there, as we came down the mountain, another light came on on the truck's instrument panel. This has happened a couple times before, and when it does I frantically pull the manual from the glove box and try to figure out what it is this time. For instance, one time it was a little droplet symbol. Turns out diesel engines need a little condensation reservoir emptied out about once a month. We take the lights seriously as we really depend on this truck and are in no position to replace it if it goes down. This time it turned out to be an air filter warning.

When we got to Belgrade, we replaced the air filter, but still the light didn't go out. So we stayed over so we could take it in to a shop Monday morning. We weren't about to leave, pulling a trailer, with a warning light on. Before we left for church Sunday, our friend said something about a reset process in a friend's car, something about pumping it 3 times and counting to 10 or something like that. We had called the Ford shop and they didn't say anything about a reset button. Still, I pulled out the Smartphone, typed in F250 air filter reset, pressed "search," and there it was! Jan popped the hood right away, as soon as we got to the church parking lot, and found the button. Voila! But too late to leave that day.

We took a couple  days getting to our friends' house just inside Wyoming, church friends we'd met in Washington and who had recently moved back to Wyoming, where they had grown up. They were still unpacking and arranging. We had some school books waiting for us in the mail there, and a warm welcome. It was such a joy to see them, especially Robin, who greeted me with one of the hugs I'd come to love.

The next day, we went on a day trip to Little Big Horn, site of Custer's Last Stand. The parking lot was nearly full, and I saw license plates from almost every state. I hadn't realized it was also the site of a National Cemetery.

Here the guys are on their way up to the monument after viewing the exhibits and the movie in the visitor center.

Here is the monument

and the inscription (I didn't think to take a closeup of it, so this is just a crop; sorry about that).

There are also memorials to Native Americans who perished at Little Big Horn.

We took the scenic route back to Wyoming, via Fort Smith and Yellowtail Dam (where we got another stamp in the National Parks Passport--that made two for today! Actually, the road to the visitor center had just been closed, but we stopped in at the National Parks office in Fort Smith, where we had a nice chat and got the Passports stamped.). I hadn't realized that just out of sight of the Interstate, there is significant agriculture on the Crow reservation. I especially liked this field of sunflowers.