Mount Rushmore


I started this post right after we got back from South Dakota in September, but wasn’t inspired to complete it until I saw a StoryCorps piece on NPR about one of the stone carvers who helped craft the monument.

growing up, my family was big on road trips and on visiting Sites of Historical Importance (see also: Boston’s Freedom Trail) and Mount Rushmore and western South Dakota were on that list. I must have been … between second and third grads, or so. what I remember most from that trip is washing dishes at our campsite in what seemed an unexpectedly dense coniferous forest. it reminded me a lot of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan or northern Wisconsin. also, that the Crazy Horse monument underwhelmed because they’d only completed his forehead and profile of his nose. (also, “Rount Mushmore.”)

one upside to visiting places while young, and returning later, is that appreciation can be twofold. my recollections of Mount Rushmore are vague but rosy and, now that I can place its construction into historical context, I’m rather more impressed.

the massive carving, suggested by Doane Robinson in the early 1920s, sought to entice tourists to the Black Hills. both environmentalists and Native American tribes objected to various proposed locations, but eventually supporters and opponents settled on this mountain (the tallest in the region, renamed for a New York lawyer  from the original Lakota name, Six Grandfathers). (for purposes of this post, I’ll forego discussing the Fort Laramie Treaty of 1868 and ongoing tensions between the U.S. government and the Lakota people for whom the Black Hills are sacred.) Robinson convinced sculptor Gutzon Borglum (who had lately worked on the face of Robert E. Lee at Stone Mountain, Georgia) to come to the Black Hills to ensure the completion of the project. Borglum died before the completion of the monument, but his son, Lincoln, carried on in his stead.

political and financial wrangling ensued: Congress authorized a commission to oversee the project; President Coolidge insisted that, in addition to President Washington, the monument include two Republicans and one Democrat — Borglum based his final selections on the role the Presidents had on preserving “the Republic” as well as expanding territory for said Republic.

between the start of construction in October 1927 and its completion in October 1941, some 400 people worked on constructing the monument. nearly 90% of the carving was done by dynamite; blasters could place charges specifically enough to blast rock off to within 3 inches of the final surface. once it got close enough, carvers switched to jackhammers, drilling a series of holes into the surface in a honeycomb patter to allow for more precise carving. this kicked up an incredible, fine dust. while they were provided with masks to prevent inhalation and subsequent damage to their lungs, the masks were stuffy and, in the direct sun hanging off the rock-face, many workers opted to go without. despite the dangerous working conditions, no one died during the course of the project, something rare for a monument of this size.

while the carvings at Mount Rushmore today don’t match the scope of what Borglum had in mind initially — head-to-waist high sculptures of the presidents, plus monuments to the Louisiana Purchase, Constitution & Declaration of Independence, as well as other territories, what stands today is pretty damn impressive.

Badlands National Park

one upside to visiting National Parks like the one in the Badlands a second time as an adult is that my memories have faded enough to allow for a wholly new experience. I have vague recollections of our last trip to the monuments and parks of western South Dakota, but nothing concrete. I remember washing dishes at our campsite, being surrounded by bison on a drive through Custer State Park, going to a cave (but nothing about the cave), lights on the surface of Rushmore (but not the carving itself, really), the heat and dryness of the Badlands.
now that I’m older, however, and have a much more comprehensive understanding of the geological (or other) forces involved in the creation of these sties, I am much more in awe. the height of the buttes and spires is obscured as you approach from the north as they’re carved out of the plains moving southward. they’re impressive and, as the name suggests, impressively inhospitable-looking. true, a fair amount of prairie grass covers the top of the butte and on the plains below — enough that someone was conducting a controlled burn of the lower prairielands as we drove through the Park.

people have inhabited the area for more than 11,000 years, the earliest of which were mammoth hunters. the Lakota moved in during the 18th century and came to dominate the region in part because of the command of horses they learned from Spaniards (it’s much easier to hunt bison on horseback …). French trappers quickly encroached on the Lakota, and they were shortly followed by soldiers (see: Custer), miners (see: Deadwood), cattle farmers and homesteaders (see: Dust Bowl).

following Wounded Knee, the Lakota were confined primarily to reservations, including the Pine Ridge Reservation which shares oversight of the Stronghold Unit of Badlands National Park. during the Second World War, the U.S. Government took possession of more than 300,000 acres of the Reservation to use the land as a gunnery range. accuracy wasn’t always great and several buildings in the town of Interior (just south of the North Unit of the park) were damaged. nearby farmers often had to take cover to save themselves from falling or misdirected ordinance. among the many informational PDFs available on the Park website is one on the history of the gunnery range that includes information on identifying and avoiding unexploded ordinance (UXO).

the site was authorized to become a National Monument in 1929 but didn’t become one until a decade later. it was redisignated a National Park in 1978 and in 1999 took over supervision of the nearby Minuteman Missile National Historical Site.

Deadwood


I must confess that before last weekend, when I heard “Deadwood” I thought “that show Tim Omundson and Jim Beaver were on?” A show, moreover, that I have never seen. this doesn’t really surprise me, as my previous trip to western South Dakota occurred well before an age that would allowed me to participate in what makes Deadwood famous.

there have been disputes over the legality of Deadwood, as the Black Hills (in which the town is nestled) were granted to the Lakota people by the Treaty of Laramie in 1868. of course, gold rushes and prospectors pay no mind to such things as “legal ownership” or “morally defensible behavior.” and so, with the help of wagons filled with the “needed commodities” (i.e. prostitutes and gamblers) the settlement exploded in just a few years.

the legality of Deadwood’s existence came into play in conjunction with the town’s most infamous event — the murder of Wild Bill Hickock. during an initial trial his assassin was acquitted, but because the town was not a legal settlement the verdict was deemed invalid. Jack McCall was then retried in a Dakota Territory court, found guilty, and hanged. Wild Bill is buried in a cemetery on a hill overlooking the town but, seeing as Mount Moriah charged admission (and we only drove past on a whim on our way out of town) we opted to forego the “historic” site.

the town was devastated several times, first when smallpox spread through the mining camp during 1876 and required quarantine of the sick, in 1879 when fire destroyed most of the town, and again by fire in 1959. despite being placed on the National Historic Landmark in 1961, the town continued its decline as mining in the immediate vicinity became less important and mines opened up elsewhere in the surrounding area. to make matters worse, the route for I-90 bypassed Deadwood in 1964 and the final nail in the coffin came with the closure of all brothels in 1980. yes. the brothels of Deadwood didn’t go out of commission (or underground, whatever) until 1980. as we drove around town, we guessed as to which of the neatly maintained, multi-story homes on side streets once housed brothels; some of our judgments were based on structural observations — external entrances, lots of upstairs bedrooms, etc., — others on whim.

after a fire in 1987, the town sought permission to allow gambling in an effort to revitalize town — after all, it was one of the town’s founding elements. it’s somewhat odd now to think there was a time when there weren’t casinos wedged into every fifth storefront of Deadwood and on every other corner throughout the rest of South Dakota. in the end, legalization of gambling did what Deadwood hoped and revitalized the town. it’s no Vegas, but it expands the town’s appeal to more than just people looking for gun fight re-enactments and the graves of Wild West outlaws.

Wall, South Dakota

the rest stop on I-90

anyone who’s driven towards, through, or around South Dakota has seen signs for Wall Drug in Wall, South Dakota. I’ve seen billboards for it in Minnesota and Iowa, not to mention all across the length of South Dakota.  we started joking about whether or not to visit the famous Drug Store somewhere between Sioux Falls and the Missouri River, in spite of the fact that none of us had any interest in diverting off the road for the quintessential interstate tourist trap. I’d say “give ’em a giant ball of twine and they’ve got kitchiest road side attraction west of the Missouri sewn up” except I don’t think they need a giant ball of twine, really.

perhaps I’m not being fair to Wall Drug. I know we stopped there on my earlier westward trek to the Black Hills, but on pain of death and dismemberment I couldn’t produce any concrete memories of the place. all I know is that Wall Drug started up during the Depression (in 1931) by a Nebraska pharmacist who struggled to make his business work. his wife got the idea to offer and advertise free ice water for visitors of the newly-opened Mount Rushmore and, 80 years later, they boast handing out something near 20,000 cups of water a day during peak tourist season.

anyway, despite swearing we wouldn’t set foot in Wall, we did have to grace the city limits to get back onto the Interstate after diverting through the Badlands. and, leaving the Black Hills around 3 p.m., it turned out to be a decent place to stop and get some dinner. the local restaurant we found even had passable veggie options! (mostly because they had an extensive appetizer menu of fried foods.) in a town of 766, it might have been the only game besides the Subway and when a party of nearly two dozen people started showing up (a caravan of indeterminate make-up and origin) it stretched capacity to the limit. thankfully, we got in and out just in time and got out of Wall, bellies full and not a single Drug Store seen.

the other Mighty Miss

I might preface this post  by letting you know that Dave told us we could see the Black Hills from this  I-90 rest stop overlooking the Missouri River and Chamberlain. but don’t hold that against me.

on the drive from Sioux Falls to the Black Hills, we stopped at a rest area that overlooks Chamberlain and the Missouri River and boasts a decent interpretive exhibit on the Lewis & Clark expeditions. growing up with more intimate knowledge of both the Wisconsin & Mississippi Rivers (not to mention many, many smaller rivers throughout Wisconsin), I didn’t know much about the Missouri before Dave enlightened us. the other Mighty Miss officially flows some 2,341 miles and, by virtue of being mapped second, is a “tributary” to the Great Muddy. it’s the longest in North America, but only the 13th by discharge and spans 10 states and 2 Canadian provinces. according to Dave, however, the volume of water flowing from the Missouri into the Mississippi lends credence to the argument that the latter is actually a tributary of the former, rather than how matters currently stand. some of the natural length of the Missouri has been cut as meanders were circumvented to make the river more navigable. at Chamberlain, where we saw it, the river was dammed but doesn’t bulk up the river much in terms of width.

while the Lewis & Clark exhibit was informative, it wasn’t anything that tripped my fancy. mostly I remember the keel of a replica boat sticking half-way out the second floor of the rest area, providing a view of the River and a sense of how small the boat was for 20 or 30 men traveling together during this stretch of river.

Gavins Point Dam

on my most recent trip to Sioux Falls, our driving adventures took us out to Lewis & Clark State Park, situated on the banks of the Lewis & Clark Lake,  created by the Gavins Point Dam spanning the Missouri River. it’s kind of cool to go someplace that’s so obviously a summer-tourist-weekend-bonanza in the off season. no competition for parking, no dodging small children, no fighting off boat launchers for access to the jetty or to pose as Lewis & Clark on the launch docks.

although on our impromptu jaunt to the west of Yankton was aimed primarily at checking out the park, I managed to convince Becca to take a right along Crest Road that we might investigate the concrete structure on the south end. in a matter of minutes, we were back in Nebraska (again), crossing over the Gavins Point Dam. the hydroelectric dam that impounds Lewis & Clark Lake was constructed between 1954 and 1957 and was authorized as part of the 1944 Pick-Sloan Plan, aimed at conservation, control and use of water resources along the Missouri River Basin. it’s one of six dams on the Missouri River and (according to the US Army Corps of Engineers who maintains the site) produces electricity for some 65,000 people annually.

maybe a tour of the facility would have introduced me to the finer and/or more impressive points of the Gavins Point Dam (but as they’re only open Memorial-Labor Day …); maybe the sight is more awe-inspiring with water flowing over the dam; maybe sunlight glinting off the surface of the lake illuminates this architectural feat of utilitarianism in a mystical way; or maybe I’ll forever be underwhelmed by dams after staring down the slope of Hoover Dam. whatever the reason, I wouldn’t go out of my way to see the Gavins Point Dam again. especially not in the height of tourist season — it goes down to one lane as you pass the generator facility and I have no interest in sitting in that waiting line.

the James band in South Dakota

on September 7, 1876, after a disastrous attempt at robbing a bank in Northfield, Minnesota, the James band fled to the rugged land of the eastern Dakota territories. they took shelter in a cave along the Split Rock Creek. of all the men involved in the raid, only Frank and Jesse remained alive and at liberty in the end. after holing up in the creek-side cave for several days, hoping that their pursuers would overlook them and move westward or give up the pursuit, thus allowing the remaining gang members to slip away. unfortunately for Jesse, however, the posse remained and saw the men emerge. legend has it that, in order to successfully thwart the angered pursuers, Jesse jumped his horse over the Split Rock Creek, at a Devil’s Gulch, closer to the town of Garretson, where the gap between the cliffs over the creek narrowed.

info from Palisades SPtown of Garretson, and Wikipedia

Palisades State Park

on my recent trip to South Dakota, the weather proved infinitely more agreeable for “outdoor activities” than it had been in January. still windy. very windy. but much, much warmer.

on Saturday, we set out for Palisades State Park, located just northeast of Sioux Falls in Garretson. the Split Rock Creek flows between the pink quartzite walls of the canyon, which rise between 30 and 50 feet from the surface creek. in the U.S., major quartzite formations are found in central Texas, Utah, southwest Minnesota and eastern South Dakota, and the Baraboo Hills of Wisconsin. these particular rock formations are somewhere around 1.2 billion years old and is one of the only places in the country to contain catlinite (also known as pipestone), which is used by native peoples to create peace pipes. apparently, several pipestone quarries can be found within the park (we stuck to walking along the Creek and climbing the rocks).

because of the quartzite cliffs, Palisades State Park offers excellent rock climbing opportunities (not unlike Devil’s Lake) and, despite not having any proper equipment, the three of us took the opportunity to scramble up the “Queen” spire. (the picture below is of the “King”, from where we stood atop the “Queen”.) Josie, with her much longer legs, managed to get up onto the very highest point of the spire, while Rebecca and I settled for slightly lower perches.

during the 19th century, there was a huge flour mill overlooking the bluffs and the town of Palisades bustled on the banks of the creek. in 1886, silver was discovered downstream and produced a short-lived boom (the ore turned out to be of poor quality). several years later, the railroad company built a switching yard where Garretson is now located and the town relocated. railroad officials offered free lots to business owners located in Palisades to relocate to the new town.

info from the South Dakota state park system and from the town of Garretson

Sioux Falls

Sioux Falls is named for the falls created by the Big Sioux river.  it is the largest city in South Dakota, seat of Minnehaha County, and long a draw for native peoples and Europeans.  there are burial mounds near around the falls.  the falls were created during the last ice age and have been important for the native peoples that inhabited the Great Plains.  can’t imagine why. even when frozen (especially when frozen), they’re a pretty impressive sight.  the town was chartered in 1856, but suffered through much of the nineteenth century as new settlers clashed with existing inhabitants.  in recent years, however the city has grown dramatically.  (the growth was aided in large part by John Morrell’s meat packing plant, which is situated just north of the falls and stink up much of the town; the Morrell stockyard is one of the largest in the nation.) the metropolitan area (which includes towns like Harrisburg–where Dave first lived–and Tea–where Becca & Dave live now) is just over 200,000. due in part to the lack of corporate income tax, Sioux Falls is also home to several major banking institutions, including Wells Fargo (grrrrr) and the population is nearly 90 percent Caucasian. it (apparently) has three sister cities: Potsdam, Germany, Strabane, Northern Ireland, and Surgut, Russia.  lastly, it is home to Mary Hart (ET), Pat O’Brien (Access Hollywood), January Jones (Mad Men), and John Thune (current U.S. Senator).  there are signs on the interstate heading into town, advertising it as home of John Thune.  apparently, if you bring home the pork, you get your name on a sign on the interstate roadway system.  someone should tell Janesville–they might be able to market themselves as hometown of Russ Feingold.  (don’t know if it would work as well for Milwaukee with Herb.)