Red Truck Road Trip – WEST Coast Team

Mt. Rushmore is one of those feats of engineering which manages to both inspire and infriate at the same time… kinda like the pyramids. It inspires because of the history associated with it, the men it honors and how it pays them tribute, the scenery surrounding it, and the amazing way in which it manages to bring together thousands of people a day through a weird combination of national pride and community. It’s infuriating because it’s in the middle of nowhere and cell service is practically nonexistent (I’d imagine that visiting the pyramids carries the same frustrations, but at least the U.S.A. didn’t work a bunch of slaves to death to erect this monument to its dead leaders; so, y’know, that’s something we’ve got over the ancient Egyptians… well, that and indoor plumbing, air conditioning, and surgery that involves antiseptics). Oh, and it’s ungodly hot if you visit the place in the summer, too. Seriously, the temperature was close to 100 degrees when we visited.

Rushmore’s history is well documented, but it’s hard to truly appreciate its grandeur unless one can actually visit the place. In fact, I was rather underwhelmed by the whole thing when I first got a good look at it. I even commented about it to Mike:

Me: “It’s not really that big… I don’t see what all the fuss is about.”

Mike: “Dude, it doesn’t look that big because we’re viewing it from the parking lot. It’s about a quarter of a mile to the viewing area.”

Me: “Oh” *thoughtful pause* “Well, I’m still prettier than those guys.”

Mike: “Somehow, I think Lincoln could pull off a beard better than you ever could.”

Have I mentioned what a snot Mike is? Because if I haven’t, it’s overdue to be noted.

Anyway, Mike and I walked around the entire monument, including the brief-but-informative Presidential Trail, which leads down to the the artists’ studio and provides a number of vantage points not immediately apparent from the viewing deck. What a lot of people probably don’t realize from the postcards is that Mt. Rushmore happens to be located in the middle of an enormous forest, which comes complete with wildlife who are totally used to being gawked at so long as the tourists don’t try to touch them. In many ways, the area is awesome because it’ll keep anyone with a passion for either history or nature enthralled for at least a little while. And then, after the novelty of looking at giant stone faces wears off, one can walk only a short way back towards the entrance to enjoy some truly tasty ice cream. What’s not to love?

After Rushmore, the car meandered back to look at the monument to the Crazy Horse Memorial, which will be even more impressive than the presidential mountain (probably) if it ever actually gets finished (maybe) within our lifetimes (doubtful). While the sculpture itself is certainly majestic and its scale is ambitious, it’s still a barely-completed carving and is funded by, essentially, nickel-and-diming the tourists who come to get a glimpse with its admission fees ($10/per person, or $25 for a car with more than three people in it) and a visitors center which is more tacky than educational (at first glimpse, it passes itself off as a museum, but moving past the main room will soon land one in the midst of gaudy souvenirs and shoddy jewelry). I was going to pose in front of a model for the memorial, but then both Mike and I realized that an alcoholic beverage staged with a tribute to a Native American hero might not go over so well.

If you do decide to go to the Crazy Horse Memorial, though, spending a couple of minutes looking at the mountain from the parking lot is certainly some time well-spent… or you could pay $35 per person and get a helicopter view of the mountain from a nearby tour group. Personally, the second option sounds like it’d be a lot more fun for not much more money.