When our alarm rang at 6:30am on Sunday October 10, 2021, my photographer hopped out of bed and immediately went to the window to see if the sky was clear. But the sun wasn’t scheduled to rise for another half-hour, which meant Tom had to wait a bit to see if our wish for a cloudless sky had come true. In the meantime, my camera guy and his wife got ready, packed up their belongings and absorbed the ambience of the Mountain View Lodge and Cabins near Hill City, South Dakota. At one point, I heard my companions say to each other how impressed they were with our room. The lodge was only ten miles from Mount Rushmore and 15 miles to Crazy Horse Memorial; our room was reasonably priced; we had all the amenities of a house; and the manager and his wife were extremely helpful and friendly. I was glad the Mountain View Lodge worked out as well; primarily because we’ll need a good place to stay in the future when we return to see the Evening Lighting Ceremony at the memorial.
It was roughly 8:20am when Tom carried me to the Jeep for our 15-minute ride to Mount Rushmore. From an opening in the camera case, I caught a glimpse of the sky and I was stunned to see there were only a few wispy clouds above the mountain tops near Hill City; and by the time we got to Keystone, the clouds were gone altogether. I was completely shocked to see a cloudless bright blue sky; as a matter fact, there were no clouds as far as my resin eyes could see. My photographer’s dream had come true! Was it divine intervention from the Presidential spirits? I’d like to think so; however, it was more likely the pressure center that followed the previous day’s storms that had driven the clouds away.
Once my photographer’s wife had driven the Jeep about two miles past “downtown” Keystone, we were afforded our first breathtaking glimpse of Mount Rushmore along SD-244. The view was so amazing, in fact, Tom asked her to stop along the road so he could capture his first images of the memorial. And before that Sunday morning was over, he had taken about 175 more photos of Mount Rushmore as well. I laughed to myself because I knew he wasn’t about to let the clear blue sky go to waste. As a matter of fact, it seemed as though Tom captured every angle of the mountain without climbing up inside Lincoln’s left nostril. Please sit back and enjoy the photos my photographer had taken of Gutzon Borglum’s majestic colossal sculpture that he dubbed “The Shrine of Democracy”. There are a few photos with me in it; along with some images that focused solely on the monument itself. It was a day that my photographer, his wife, and I will never forget!
It was a few minutes past 10:30am when we finished our up and down half-mile hike along the 422 steps of the Presidential Trail and I knew my photographer and his wife were exhausted by the time we returned to the Avenue of Flags. There was no doubt in my mind they were spent because both of my “ancient” companions had collapsed onto a bench where they sat and caught their breath. From that bench, I gazed up at the larger-than-life faces that graced the mountainside before me; I was overcome with patriotism as I bathed in American pride. Five months earlier I had touched the Liberty Bell in Philadelphia and that was amazing. But nothing, and I mean not a single site in our country, symbolizes the United States of America like Mount Rushmore does – especially under a clear blue sky. I smiled to myself when Tom said to his wife: “This was perfect. Only a bald eagle flying overhead could make the setting any better!” I couldn’t have agreed with him more.
We had a couple of hours to kill in Keystone before we needed to make our way to Crazy Horse Memorial, which was located less than 20 miles to the west. Prior to our departure from the Mountain View Lodge that morning, my photographer had made a two o’clock reservation for the three of us to visit the mountain sculpture of the Oglala Lakota warrior Crazy Horse. And in true “Tom Watson style”, my photographer mentioned our tour would consist of more than admiring the sculpture from a distance; like we had done at Mount Rushmore. Instead, the three of us were scheduled to take a shuttle ride up onto Crazy Horse’s extended left arm and look the Native American war leader directly in his sculpted granite eyes. I was excited; that tour sounded as though it’ll be an experience of a lifetime. But Vicki, on the other hand, had reservations due to her fear of heights; especially when Tom mentioned we would be about 500 feet above the surrounding terrain.
In the small, tourist infested town of Keystone (population 337), we made a quick stop at Dahl’s Chainsaw Art because my companions saw an enormous carved wooden figure of Sasquatch that sat majestically in the center of Jarrett and Jordan Dahl’s finished pieces. For some reason, both Tom and Vicki have gained a fascination for the mystical, yet elusive, creature known as Bigfoot during our travels and they needed a closer look at the gigantic “Squatch” at Dahl’s.
While Sasquatch was cool, the main reason my photographer wanted to spend time in “downtown” Keystone was because he noticed the National Presidential Wax Museum was located about a thousand feet south of Dahl’s Chainsaw Art display. I was actually surprised Tom wanted to visit the wax museum because I know how much he hates tourist traps – and in my mind, that museum spelled the word T-R-A-P in capital letters. Even when the three of us entered the museum, I had hoped my photographer wouldn’t place me near any of the wax Presidents; primarily because I envisioned them to appear cheesy at best – in other words, candles with arms and legs.
Before I could say “Madame Tussauds”, however, I found myself standing within a few feet of Betsy Ross as she held her flag in front of George Washington. At that moment, I was hooked; the first handful of displays were extremely lifelike and I was very impressed. Quite frankly, I was proud to pose with the Presidents behind me. The museum had lived up to its billing – “All 45 Presidents depicted in stunning visual recreations of iconic moments in U.S. presidential history.” Twenty minutes into our tour, however, my enthusiasm began to sour. First, I discovered about ten of the Presidents, including my favorites James K. Polk and James Garfield, were depicted as busts and displayed in small individual glass-covered cases – not “iconic historic moments”. And second, a handful of the wax figures looked nothing like the President they supposedly represented. Ronald Reagan looked as though his face had partially melted; Bill Clinton resembled a 60-year old Elvis Presley in a suit; and George H.W. Bush and Jimmy Carter’s likenesses were ridiculously poor. I hate it when I’m right, which is most of the time. I could tell Tom was disappointed as well; until he arrived at the gift shop, that is. My “thrifty” photographer managed to find a nice bronze bust of Thomas Jefferson for only twelve bucks and I knew how much he likes busts.
What had begun as a worthwhile stop for my photographer and I turned out to be subpar at best. The National Presidential Wax Museum wasn’t what had been advertised on their website and I know for sure Tom was disappointed as well. But we needed to put that tourist trap behind us and focus on our next stop, which was a 563-foot tall mountain sculpture of the Oglala Lakota warrior Crazy Horse. Even though the sculpture was far from completion, I figured it would rival Mount Rushmore for the “Wow” factor – especially when I knew how close we would get to the warrior’s face.
Before we completed the 20-mile drive to the Crazy Horse Memorial from Keystone, however, we had an unexpected sighting once we had passed the entrance to Mount Rushmore along SD-244. When the road circled around the west side of the historic mountain, we were awestruck by what was known as the “Mount Rushmore Profile View”. Although only the head of George Washington was visible, it offered all who had stopped a unique profile perspective of the first President carved onto the famous mountaintop.
We arrived at Crazy Horse Memorial at roughly 12:30pm; the three of us spent over an hour walking around the Welcome Center and the Indian Museum of North America. We also saw the scale model of the planned colossal mountain sculpture of Crazy Horse, a mammoth project that began in 1948 by Polish-American sculpture Korczak Ziolkowski. Although we had a good view of Crazy Horse from the viewing platform at the Welcome Center, we needed to get closer. At precisely 2:00pm, our wish was granted; my companions and I boarded a van with our tour guide and four other visitors for the fifteen-minute ride up to the extended left arm of Crazy Horse. Vicki sat in the back row of seats while my photographer and I occupied the second row. Since we were on the passenger’s side of the van, our view of the monument on the way up to the top was terrible.
We exited the van on the back side of Crazy Horse Memorial where we had no view of the completed work on the sculpture. As we walked out to the blast area on the monument’s arm, our tour guide asked us to refrain from looking back at the face until instructed; our chaperon said she wanted all of us to experience the “Wow” factor at the same time. And she was right. As the six humans and I turned to face Crazy Horse, I heard a collective and synchronized “Oh, Wow”. As Tom held me aloft for our first photo, I was awestruck. I was face to face with the 87-foot-tall sculpted granite face of the Lakota warrior and it was a sight to behold. During our 30-minute stay on the memorial, we walked as far as we could along the warrior’s 263-foot long left arm where we had a close-up look at the ongoing work on the hand. The view from over 500 feet above the colorful terrain below was spectacular as well. I was proud of my photographer’s wife when she stated: “I think my fear of heights has been somewhat cured up here. The view is beautiful and I’m fairly relaxed.” While it’s impossible for photographs to accurately capture what the three of us had experienced with our own eyes, Tom did his best to bring our breathtaking tour of Crazy Horse Memorial to life through the lens of his camera.
Sculptor Korczak Ziolkowski was a self-proclaimed “storyteller in stone” and there’s no doubt the story of the Native Americans needed to be told; and told honestly. Their heritage, culture, and beliefs need to be cherished as the American treasures they are. From the moment the first rock was dynamited from the face of Thunderhead Mountain on June 3, 1948, Ziolkowski had one goal in mind: To fulfill the promise he made to Chief Henry Standing Bear who asked the artist to create the memorial dedicated to his maternal cousin Crazy Horse. In a heartfelt plea to Ziolkowski, the Chief said: “My fellow chiefs and I would like the white man to know the red man has great heroes, too.”
At first I was surprised when I learned my usually cheap photographer had opened his wallet and paid $250 for the three of us to become “official storytellers” of Crazy Horse Memorial. While the fee was considered a donation, it’s the only way the general public is allowed to enter the blast zone and get face to face with Crazy Horse; and that special tour is only available on the weekend. When we returned to the Welcome Center and stepped out of the van, I heard Tom tell his wife: “That was a once-in-a-lifetime experience and it was worth every penny. The view from the top of the memorial; having the opportunity to look Crazy Horse directly in his eyes and touch his chin was priceless.”
The story of Crazy Horse Memorial doesn’t end with the ongoing mountain carving either. It was Chief Henry Standing Bear’s belief that education was key to preserving the culture and living heritage of all Native Americans; which was the reason the Indian University of North America was created in conjunction with the memorial. That university has helped kickstart the learnings for hundreds of students from over 40 Native Nations around our country. Our visit to Crazy Horse helped open my resin eyes to the proud heritage of the Indigenous people of our land. Their heroes were important; their culture was even more important.
After Vicki found a motel in Lusk, Wyoming that seemed to have good reviews, we began the two-hour journey southward. While some of the terrain in the southwestern part of South Dakota looked cool, that changed when we arrived in the Cowboy State. From the time we crossed the Wyoming border until we arrived in Lusk, we saw no towns. As a matter of fact, I could’ve counted the houses we passed on one hand. I laughed to myself from the camera case when I heard Tom say to his wife: “I have a new motto for Wyoming – it’s the state where fun goes to die.”
My photographer’s motto could’ve been adopted by the town of Lusk as well. As we rolled into the small Wyoming village at roughly 6:00pm, it seemed as though everything was closed for the evening. The old saying ‘the sidewalks roll up at six o’clock’ was alive and well in Lusk and my companions weren’t sure whether or not they would find a place to eat dinner. When we registered at the Town House Motel, the clerk told my companions that some of the diners were forced to close because of staffing issues. Left with little to no choices, my photographer and his wife bought dinner at the nearby Family Dollar – Tom devoured two boneless chicken frozen dinners while Vicki dined on the fine cuisine of Hot Pockets.
Following their appetizing microwaved meals, Tom worked on his NASCAR stats and watched the Buffalo Bills – Kansas City Chiefs football game at the same time. When the lights went out at 10:00pm, I stood in my usual spot next to the TV and thought about Chief Henry Standing Bear’s belief about heroes. But when I saw Chief Patrick Mahomes, a hero to many, throw two interceptions as his team lost to the Bills by eighteen points, I figured his likeness wouldn’t be carved onto a mountain any time soon. Come to think of it – many more games like the one we just watched and he may not even get a small bust sculpted in Canton.
