We departed the Crooked Creek Resort bright and early so as to catch the mo
rning sun shining on the faces of the presidents on Mount Rushmore - and we saw the morning sun on their faces, from far away already. It seems that you can't escape the great men's solemn gaze if you are anywhere within several miles of Mount Rushmore in the direction that they are facing. The detail of the sculptures is amazing, even the rim of Theodore Roosevelt's glasses can be seen and the eyes seem to be alive because of the light effect in the hollowed-out pupils.
It was a monumental job (if you pardon the pun) to carve these, to me, perfect likenesses. Many tons of stone
had to be blasted away at the cost of millions of dollars, an enormous engineering feat in itself as can be seen by looking at the photograph of what the mountain looked like before it became the home of these distinguished heads of state (pun intended).
Having said that, I can't suppress the question that came to me while looking at the great work of art: Why? No doubt the great men for whom this monument was created deserve our respect and admiration, but that is already being done in a myriad of ways, even in daily life. Washington, Jefferson, and Lincoln we encounter daily as we handle our money and "Teddy" Roosevelt is present in almost every home that has children, in the form of the Teddy Bear. From reading the information posted at the Mount Rushmore Memorial this undertaking was a private effort, financed by donations and federal money. But, I could not help getting the feeling that there were some people involved, including the artist, who were mainly interested in their own aggrandizement. I can't say any more about this, it is just a feeling I got from reading the narratives associated with photographs of the initiation, progress, and dedication of the project.
Furthermore, what for me was distracting from the solemnity that could a
ccompany a traditional site such as this was the bombastic architecture that makes up the memorial. A huge parking garage system (buses one way, vans and trailers another, and cars yet another), heavy stone arches with rows of flags - reminiscent of sites where Nazi rallies took place, and a huge cafeteria that could hold many busloads of tourists formed the core of the memorial. It is run by a private enterprise and therefore only the view of the presidents is free and that one can get from miles away as I said at the beginning. Actually, there is no entrance fee to the memorial, only a $10 parking fee. So if you are hardy and like to hike, you can walk to the memorial from some distance away because there is no parking allowed for some distance on the road leading to the memorial.
We stayed only a short time at the memorial, you can only take so many pictures and look up at the great men so many times, so that we were able to depart the area just as the masses of tourists started to arrive. As we drove away the great men kept watching us, especially since we then toured Custer State Park which lies within viewing distance from Mount Rushmore.
The highlig
ht was a scenic drive along the Needles Highway which owes its name to the odd rock formations found there that resemble the eyes of sowing needles. But what was most exciting, and at times frightening to my friend in the passenger seat, were a series of small tunnels (small as in short, narrow, and low). A brochure had warned me that large RVs should avoid this route because of the narrow tunnels and the lack of turn-around possibilities near the tunnels. But, according to the information in the brochure our RV was just small enough and the nice man at the entrance to the park who took our $15 entrance fee did not say anything about the tunnels, so we pressed on. The park was very scenic, lots of picture opportunities and the weather was perfect. The first few tunnels were a piece of cake, we had lots of room to spare on the sides and on top, but then they got narrower and lower so that my friend suggested several times that we take the next opportunity in the middle of the woods to turn around before we got stuck in a tunnel. Of course, I insisted that the brochure indicated that we would fit and the nice man at the gate surely would have warned us, unless he was nearsighted or otherwise unable to tell what size our RV was. We finally came to the one tunnel that, according to the brochure, was the "show-stopper" for larger RVs. As we entered the tunnel my friend started saying her prayers which soon ended in a gasp as the irregularly shaped walls of the tunnel
came withing less than an inch of the outside rear-view mirrors. I was less worried about the mirrors than about the top of the camper since I had no way of knowing how close to the ragged ceiling of the tunnel we were coming. I just held my breath and inched forward, if I would have heard the roof scraping or the mirrors touching the walls I would have tried to back out gently, hoping for a minimum of damage. But, lo and behold, the tunnel did not get any narrower or lower and soon we saw a throng of onlookers at the exit of the tunnel applauding and cheering as we exited. They made me feel real good for having traversed the tunnel without a scratch even though I think some of them were hoping for someone to get stuck in the tunnel so that they could take home a photograph of the hapless individual. Instead they got a picture of a triumphant me at the exit of the tunnel.
The scenic Ne
edles Highway led us to a very nice recreation area on Sylvan Lake where we stopped and had a little lunch and then drove on through the rest of the park, occasionally seeing bison and deer, but no other animals. We avoided the much advertised Crazy Horse Memorial because of the commercialization that we saw at Mount Rushmore and which we expected at the Crazy Horse Memorial. Besides, we had seen pictures of the sculpture of Chief Crazy Horse.
We arrived at the Ellsworth AFB campground outside Rapid City to find the campground full. But the nice man who ran the campground offered us a spot in their "overflow area" where they put people when the main campground is full. The site had electricity, but no water and no facilities and was way out at the edge of this sprawling Air Force Base. We had planned to go into town to get something to eat and to do some laundry, but none of that because we were afraid that we would not be able to find our way back to our campsite in the dark. We made do and when loudspeaker all over the base warned of possible lightning strikes (the Air Force stops all refueling, munitions handling, and other activities that could be affected by a lightning strike) we stayed put. No lightning strikes, not even a thunderstorm materialized, but the taking-off and landing of B-1 bombers kept us entertained most of the night. But we survived and thus ended day 23.
rning sun shining on the faces of the presidents on Mount Rushmore - and we saw the morning sun on their faces, from far away already. It seems that you can't escape the great men's solemn gaze if you are anywhere within several miles of Mount Rushmore in the direction that they are facing. The detail of the sculptures is amazing, even the rim of Theodore Roosevelt's glasses can be seen and the eyes seem to be alive because of the light effect in the hollowed-out pupils.It was a monumental job (if you pardon the pun) to carve these, to me, perfect likenesses. Many tons of stone
had to be blasted away at the cost of millions of dollars, an enormous engineering feat in itself as can be seen by looking at the photograph of what the mountain looked like before it became the home of these distinguished heads of state (pun intended).Having said that, I can't suppress the question that came to me while looking at the great work of art: Why? No doubt the great men for whom this monument was created deserve our respect and admiration, but that is already being done in a myriad of ways, even in daily life. Washington, Jefferson, and Lincoln we encounter daily as we handle our money and "Teddy" Roosevelt is present in almost every home that has children, in the form of the Teddy Bear. From reading the information posted at the Mount Rushmore Memorial this undertaking was a private effort, financed by donations and federal money. But, I could not help getting the feeling that there were some people involved, including the artist, who were mainly interested in their own aggrandizement. I can't say any more about this, it is just a feeling I got from reading the narratives associated with photographs of the initiation, progress, and dedication of the project.
Furthermore, what for me was distracting from the solemnity that could a
ccompany a traditional site such as this was the bombastic architecture that makes up the memorial. A huge parking garage system (buses one way, vans and trailers another, and cars yet another), heavy stone arches with rows of flags - reminiscent of sites where Nazi rallies took place, and a huge cafeteria that could hold many busloads of tourists formed the core of the memorial. It is run by a private enterprise and therefore only the view of the presidents is free and that one can get from miles away as I said at the beginning. Actually, there is no entrance fee to the memorial, only a $10 parking fee. So if you are hardy and like to hike, you can walk to the memorial from some distance away because there is no parking allowed for some distance on the road leading to the memorial.We stayed only a short time at the memorial, you can only take so many pictures and look up at the great men so many times, so that we were able to depart the area just as the masses of tourists started to arrive. As we drove away the great men kept watching us, especially since we then toured Custer State Park which lies within viewing distance from Mount Rushmore.
The highlig
ht was a scenic drive along the Needles Highway which owes its name to the odd rock formations found there that resemble the eyes of sowing needles. But what was most exciting, and at times frightening to my friend in the passenger seat, were a series of small tunnels (small as in short, narrow, and low). A brochure had warned me that large RVs should avoid this route because of the narrow tunnels and the lack of turn-around possibilities near the tunnels. But, according to the information in the brochure our RV was just small enough and the nice man at the entrance to the park who took our $15 entrance fee did not say anything about the tunnels, so we pressed on. The park was very scenic, lots of picture opportunities and the weather was perfect. The first few tunnels were a piece of cake, we had lots of room to spare on the sides and on top, but then they got narrower and lower so that my friend suggested several times that we take the next opportunity in the middle of the woods to turn around before we got stuck in a tunnel. Of course, I insisted that the brochure indicated that we would fit and the nice man at the gate surely would have warned us, unless he was nearsighted or otherwise unable to tell what size our RV was. We finally came to the one tunnel that, according to the brochure, was the "show-stopper" for larger RVs. As we entered the tunnel my friend started saying her prayers which soon ended in a gasp as the irregularly shaped walls of the tunnel
came withing less than an inch of the outside rear-view mirrors. I was less worried about the mirrors than about the top of the camper since I had no way of knowing how close to the ragged ceiling of the tunnel we were coming. I just held my breath and inched forward, if I would have heard the roof scraping or the mirrors touching the walls I would have tried to back out gently, hoping for a minimum of damage. But, lo and behold, the tunnel did not get any narrower or lower and soon we saw a throng of onlookers at the exit of the tunnel applauding and cheering as we exited. They made me feel real good for having traversed the tunnel without a scratch even though I think some of them were hoping for someone to get stuck in the tunnel so that they could take home a photograph of the hapless individual. Instead they got a picture of a triumphant me at the exit of the tunnel.The scenic Ne
edles Highway led us to a very nice recreation area on Sylvan Lake where we stopped and had a little lunch and then drove on through the rest of the park, occasionally seeing bison and deer, but no other animals. We avoided the much advertised Crazy Horse Memorial because of the commercialization that we saw at Mount Rushmore and which we expected at the Crazy Horse Memorial. Besides, we had seen pictures of the sculpture of Chief Crazy Horse.We arrived at the Ellsworth AFB campground outside Rapid City to find the campground full. But the nice man who ran the campground offered us a spot in their "overflow area" where they put people when the main campground is full. The site had electricity, but no water and no facilities and was way out at the edge of this sprawling Air Force Base. We had planned to go into town to get something to eat and to do some laundry, but none of that because we were afraid that we would not be able to find our way back to our campsite in the dark. We made do and when loudspeaker all over the base warned of possible lightning strikes (the Air Force stops all refueling, munitions handling, and other activities that could be affected by a lightning strike) we stayed put. No lightning strikes, not even a thunderstorm materialized, but the taking-off and landing of B-1 bombers kept us entertained most of the night. But we survived and thus ended day 23.
PS: Some kind soul sent me the following explanation.
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