The Dakodas

“We must have driven by 1000 miles of cornfields,” Jim said as we crossed our eleventh state boundary.

“Well, I’m guessing that there won’t be too many more.” The countryside was changing. It was becoming dry, flat and brown – and seemingly endless.

We were heading to ‘Badlands National Park’ South Dakota. After spending a lot of time in Alberta’s badlands we thought we had a fair idea of what we’d see, yet the large scale of the park caught us by surprise.

The wall of the badlands dropped hundreds of feet through an intricate maze of hoodoos and coulees. At the base, the plain of the nearly dry White River stretched for miles. Ranches, multiple roads, even towns were scattered through the valley bottom. The far side was barely visible in the heat-hazed distance. Only a rare tree broke the parched pattern of vegetation.

We had driven 4000 kilometres in ten days. Standing on the top of a high coulee and looking over the parched expanse we had indeed come a long way from the lush green of Nova Scotia.

The Badlands were an enjoyable side trip, but what I really wanted to see was Mount Rushmore.

“I don’t get why you have to see it,” Jim would say to me as we planned out our route and added hundreds of miles.

“Because I do,” was the only explanation I could come up with.

We decided to wait for the sunset lighting ceremony for our Mt Rushmore visit. We drove up to the #5 tollbooth to pay for our parking. We were then directed to the top level of the east tower parkade.

We had seen glimpses of the four carved Presidents from as far away as thirty miles. Here at the site itself, they were towering. The ‘Avenue of Flags’ led to the ‘Grand View Terrace’.

We walked up to the granite railing and the presidents looked down over us.

“Can you tell who is who?” I asked Jim in a whisper so that no-one else could hear me.

We stared at the faces. Washington took the lead position and was carved to his shoulders. Next was Jefferson (he wrote the Declaration of Independence). Beside him was Roosevelt. (The political father of the conservation movement - he dedicated eighteen National Monuments, five National Parks and fifty-one Wildlife Refuges during his tenure). Lastly was Lincoln.

Once again the Americans were stunning us with scale. Below our terrace was a balcony that could hold almost one-thousand people. Below that, on ground level was an amphitheatre that increased the seating capacity to four to five thousand. Behind that was a large stage and outdoor screen.

The architecture of the supporting buildings were a study in granite and glass. I went to get us something to eat as we waited for the show.

“The snack bar has a three storey cathedral ceiling,” I told Jim as I handed him a packet of chips.

“But obviously no French Fries,” he added.

We filled in time by reading the park information handout. Carved from 1927 to 1941, it had cost less than $1,000,000 to create the faces of Mount Rushmore.

“Just the walkway from the parkade would have cost more than that,” Jim remarked, “Then add in all the other buildings here.”

The National Parks Service bills the place as a ‘Shrine to Democracy’ and by the volume of visitors and their reverence, perhaps it is. I felt a little like I was crashing a family picnic. I was also getting a little overwhelmed with so much patriotism. I went to the gift shop and bought a little flag of both Canada and Australia a stand to put them in.

Eventually a National Park Interpreter walked out on the stage. The show began with a discourse on each of the four president’s contribution to freedom. Then the movie started. An American flag waved on the screen - overlaid with the word FREEDOM. The song “America the Beautiful” followed and was accompanied by the usual rousing images of natural beauty.

A short documentary then showed the story of both the carving of the mountain, and the accomplishments of each of the represented Presidents. As spotlights lit the previously dark faces, the movie again showed a fluttering flag as the crowd sang the National Anthem. Military veterans were then invited onstage. I was wondering if we were all going to join hands and sing Kum Ba Ya.

Badlands National Park

Rushmore

Three Sisters
South Dakoda Badlands

Wiebe Shadow