A Busy Day in the Black Hills

These flies... when will they go away?

?/

Yesterday morning, Ryan and I got up early (the time change helped considerably), walked the half mile to our car after sleeping backcountry in the Badlands, then drove through Rapid City headed for the Black Hills and Mount Rushmore. Corn fields gave way to pine covered hills and twisting roads. Gone were the empty back highways of Minnesota. Instead, swarms of bikers thundered through the hills, prepping for the Sturgis rally days away. Ryan and I likened them to flies. They followed you everywhere, and always in swarms. It made for, uh, unique people watching though, a cultural experience that made me fearful of what the foreigners in the parks must be thinking about us crazy Americans. 

Our campground was actually a “kampground” a KOA resort that sprawls among the hills only 15 minutes away from the monument. When I was growing up, the resort was a paradise, with horseback rides, a water slide, put-put golfing, and banana bikes – probably the most fun my sister and I could have camping ever. Now that I’m older, I found that maybe I hyped the place a little bit too much in my childhood mind. Ryan and I pulled into the resort and after experiencing Voyageurs, and Apostle Islands, and the Badlands, were pretty disgusted with the insane amount of vehicles and enormous buses that people count as camping. Fortunately, the campground had laundry facilities and clean-ish showers (still not as nice as Hartwick Pines I have to add), and before 1:00pm Ryan and I were showered, clothes laundered, and tent setup on the grass lawn amongst the big rigs that was our “campsite.” We decided to leave and not come back until we wanted to go to bed.

A quick tangent. This was going to happen at some point, but the Black Hills have insisted that I mention it now. In my opinion, RVs are the worst invention to ever happen to the outdoor world. Truly, the term “camping” becomes less and less relevant the larger the shelter you bring with you to “camp” in. My dad could camp under the stars, just rolling a sleeping bag out on the ground, but now there are people who can’t “camp” unless they have their Beauty Rest mattress, kitchenette, flushing toilet, shower, and even television. It leaves me wondering, “what’s the point?” Just stay in a hotel if you’re going to insist on creature comforts. You’ll be saving the environment and the patience of real campers if you do. Just once I would like to inform someone driving one of those giant things that their mode of “camping” is more luxurious than probably half the population lives permanently. I know several Kenyan huts in the slums of Nairobi could fit into the “campers” these folks are pulling.

 

Ok that’s enough. I apologize but the rant was much needed.

Anyway, Ryan and I headed to the monument first to see the museum and video about the sculpting of Mount Rushmore. It was Ryan’s first time seeing the faces, but it was probably my 6^th or 7^th. The Black Hills have always been a popular vacation destination for my family and the presidents faces feel like old friends to me. Ryan was pretty impressed though, but we did decide that there is a serious downside to Google. Yes, Google was the reason Voyageurs was a success, but Google also makes places like Mount Rushmore so predictable, it takes some of the magic away. “It looks just like it does on Google” Ryan said, and I couldn’t really argue with that.

A pleasant surprise though was the Needles and the scenic highway around Custer State Park to see them. Super narrow tunnels drilled out of the rock make the Needles Highway one of the most famed in the country, and it was made all the more dramatic this time by the buzzing motorcycles we had to dodge. We hiked a bit in the park on the Little Devil’s Tower trail to a viewpoint of the rocky spires, a view that Ryan claimed was one of his favorite of the trip so far.

 

Probably my favorite picture of the two of us thus far...

After that, it was back to Mount Rushmore for Buffalo Burgers and the evening program and lighting of the faces. We thoroughly enjoyed our burgers and enjoyed the show even more. Ryan was a bit skeptical of how “cool” and “awe-inspriing” the program could actually be, adjectives I’d used to describe it often. Afterwards though, he admitted getting goosebumps, and I was able to snap this shot as a memento on the way back to the kampground. By then we were pooped, so we managed to sleep even amongst the whir of generators and muffled sounds of televisions coming from the RVs around us. Seclusion will be attained today at Bighorn Canyon National Recreation Area. Cross your fingers we find a spot!

Also, a quick update on our license plate bet from my first blog. I had guessed that Tennessee would be the last license plate Ryan and I saw on the trip. Ryan guessed Mississippi. Tennessee appeared on the first day, making me feel like an idiot, but as of yesterday, no Mississippi had been spotted. Two Mexican states and several Canadian provinces had appeared, and as we parked at Mount Rushmore we had even seen Alaska, bringing the total to 43 of the 50, with no Mississippi in sight. Ryan couldn’t believe his luck, and I conceded that if he did in fact win the bet, I would have to come up with some sort of prize, like allowing Ryan to bet more money in Vegas or something. We were backing out of our parking space at the monument when who should park right next to us, but a Mississippian. Sometimes God likes to mess with us humans I swear. Needless to say, Ryan was pretty pissed. Only Delaware, Rhode Island, South Carolina, Hawaii, and New Hampshire to go!