Mt. Rushmore is one of those national monuments that is actually quite impressive and majestic when you finally get to see it in person. I was on the trip with Dad and mentioned that I was curious about "...that mountain with the presidents faces...". I had a vague perception of this monument and didn't really know much about it except in the occasional pictures in school history books (which I ignored for the most part). Dad was receptive to my curiosity and had visited it once before on one of his solo trips, and told me it was called Mt. Rushmore and was in one of the Dakota states. Visiting it was somewhat out of the way but a possibility and Dad went to work on the maps to plan the trip back home around this detour. We mentioned to the rest of the family, both in phone calls back home and to my Aunt and Uncle at the ranch that we were going to take this side trip to Mt. Rushmore, and they all thought this was a crazy idea, going hundreds of miles out of our way in the opposite direction to get home, but this was the kind of side trip Dad lived for and despite his slight outward attitude of annoyance that we were making an unplanned jaunt, he thought this was an important detour and was actually thrilled and excited to be making this visit. So when our stay at Wind River Ranch was over, Dad and I headed North-East into new territory to see the fabled mountain with presidents heads carved into it.
The trip there was actually very interesting, taking me through some new unexplored states: Nebraska and So. Dakota, introducing me to a new territory and different looking lands. One of the new attractions I had only heard about and was now able to see first-hand was Buffalo's, or Bison as they're properly called. I had only heard and read about bison and who the American Indians used to hunt them by chasing them off cliffs, or I had seen buffalo's on old nickles, but now I was able to see some in the wild like the cowboys and Indians did in the old days. We entered the State parks and viewed all the information about the bison and they made a big deal about how this was the only place in the world where wild buffalo still roamed free. As it turned out viewing the buffalo was kind of disappointing and anti-climatic, I only saw a few bison at a time and they were always in the far distance making them mere specks on the landscape, they could've been cows for all I could tell, and were just as exciting. They were nothing like I was expecting, that being the herds of millions of animals stampeding on the endless prairies. Thinking in hindsight, is was sad.
We finally arrived in So. Dakota and entered the Grand Tetons, a mountain range I was unfamiliar with. The mountains themselves were high, steep, pointy and sharp, nothing like the Rocky's or other mountain ranges I've been to. Dad then went on to explain the origin of the name "Tetons", that when the white trappers and mountain men first came to this mountain range, they had been away from women for so long that the mountains looked like tits to them, (or tetons in French). Well, while this was an interesting bit of information I was somewhat embarrassed about hearing this from Dad, I always avoided any kind of mention of sex around Dad and I was uncomfortable hearing him say "tits", especially since it was in reference to desperately horny French fur trappers. So I gave an awkward laugh and hoped he wouldn't elaborate, which thankfully he didn't. However, the mountains were indeed awesome and did invoke a sense of beauty, but they didn't look at all like breasts to me.
Dad announced that we were getting close to Mt. Rushmore and he recalled the time he drove there in his '55 Thunderbird and how he remembered that the mountain suddenly appeared around a corner and took him by surprise. I was now forewarned and was expecting at every turn to suddenly see the head of George Washington loom before me. I guess things had changed since Dad had been to Mt. Rushmore because the mountain appeared in the distance before the big surprise. This didn't however take away from the impressiveness of the monument and I was totally fascinated by the mountain. When you're a kid and you hear and read about such monuments and man-made wonders, one tends to inflate the size and scale in your imagination making the thing bigger than it actually is, When you finally encounter it it always tends to look much smaller and a little disappointing. That was my first reaction to Mt. Rushmore as we approached it from the distance, but as we got closer the size and scale began to reveal itself and I forgot my preconceived notions and became impressed with the work.
Dad and I wandered around the visitor center and viewing area for quite a while, I was looking for areas and opportunities to get closer and was disappointed to find out that we couldn't climb to the top, or even get any closer that the viewing area for all the tourists. The gift shop wasn't satisfying and only offered the usual crap any gift shop offered, the only difference being everything was Mt. Rushmore themed at this gift shop. There were a few large sculptures of the mountain for sale that cost hundreds of dollars, which strangely Dad found to be interesting and I thought for a moment he was considering buying. This not only would've been expensive but also totally impractical since one of these items would've taken up the whole back seat. But instead I had to be satisfied with the Mt. Rushmore snow globe and a few postcards to send to Mom and whoever. But I think Dad secretly planned to get the big Mt. Rushmore and had a place all picked out in our living room to display it when we got home.
We went outside again and took one last look at the mountain before we were off again. This was the start of yet another tradition and we were to return to Mt. Rushmore someday on another one of our yearly trips.
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