Western States Day Two: Rushmore, et. al

That Damned Hotel

The hotel was called "Presidents View," as it was nestled halfway up the rugged shoulders of one of the Black Hills in and around which the small town of Keystone was located. So named, as some of the more expensive rooms actually afforded a distant view of the famous mountain pretty much everyone was there to see (this is true: we went there the next day and EVERYBODY was there). We were not in one of the more expensive rooms. A hotel with prime real estate such as this one could have really gone one of two ways: luxury suites/resort or "cram as many people into substandard rooms as possible and be the cheapest rate in town." We stayed there because they were the latter. And because they had a pool (a major selling point for the kids, of course). It was basically Tiki Tom without the waterpark. And somewhat more cramped quarters. But whatever; we were there to let the kids swim for a bit and then crash for the night before a day's adventure in the surrounding community.

So, swim swim swim. And then to bed. Whereupon I lay down and attempted to get comfortable. Too hot, then too cold. Then, the beginnings of a belly rumble. Then, that moment where you first start thinking, "Wait a minute...is this building to vomit?" To a few minutes later, kneeling by the toilet and "HUUAGH." And so began an evening that I recall as involving no less than 15 trips into the bathroom, continuing to expel every ounce of beer and nachos in my system. Luckily, things never did get too watery, so I don't think I was dehydrating myself as is often the case. Also, everything about it felt it was so squarely about the beer and nachos (and, I don't know, the 4,900 ft elevation?) that I didn't really avoid drinking a little water to absolutely sure dehydration would not be an issue the next day, when I would be needed. And that was that. Somehow, everyone else managed to sleep through this all. I finally got to sleep around three or so and felt like a bit of a ghost at the beginning of the next morning, but I was still up before everyone else and pretty much ready to go.

Rushmore

So, how to approach this...I will start by saying I think my love for this country (and, dare I use the loaded term..."patriotism?") would surprise many people. I have actually had conversations with my kids, explaining the wondrous thing that freedom of speech is, and general affluence. And these points are made starkly evident in my reading with Lucy of "I am Malala" (Nobel Peace Prize winner Malala Yusafzai's story of her quest for education for Pakistani girls under the Taliban). A student of history at some level, and having actually studied our nation's presidents a little more in depth in the past couple of months, I really should have been primed for this visit.

But man...I came immediately face-to-face with a perfect storm of a few different pieces that are among my greatest turn-offs: crowds, ugly parking situations, overtly "touristy" places, and chintz. No getting around it: we were headed for one of America's peak tourist attractions at peak season. Just. Not. My. Fucking. Thing. Everything about it made my fibers rebel and I had to muster all my energy to avoid exuding and cynicism. I used the trick of tunnel-vision: tunnel-vision with regard to my kids' experience, actually looking at the damned mountain and reflecting ("that's quite a mountain!"), and making note of some really fascinating books in the gift shop (including one exploring the various American Presidents through Indian eyes that is now on my GoodReads list.

I'd been to Rushmore once before, alone in November of 1996, when there was literally one other person on the grounds that I could see and I pretty much had my run of the place (albeit with a gift shop that was closed for the season). That is an experience that I hold pretty close to my heart. Not sure I needed to go again, but there I was. Sharon and I guided the kids on a nature path around the perimeter on which we saw few other families (the ol "5 Minutes From the Visitors' Center" theory), and we had the chance to talk with a NPS naturalist about buffalo, which was informative. But ultimately, you are there to see IT. And it is pretty damned impressive, when it comes down to it. And how can you leave without that classic family photo?

The King of Men poses in front of what are presumably some other world leaders of some renown.

Look, they made some really good decisions on the four presidents they included on the Mount. Four of my favorites: Washington: Wow. How many military generals in the history of the world would have abdicated a crown? Jefferson: From his role in the drafting of the constitution to the Louisiana purchase, to the design of the "Jeffersonian grid" to his role in the Lewis & Clark expedition, his influence was immense. Teddy Roosevelt: The most quirky of the selections, it's a great one. One of our last great true populist presidents, and the creator of the National Park system. And then Lincoln: About which nothing even need be said, right?

All that said, they do a lot at the monument to remind you of the sacred history of the Black Hills to the Indians and of the repeated aggressions, encroachment, and deceit that wheedled it away piece by piece. I couldn't help but reflect how the building of a monument celebrating The White Father smack-dab in the center of their once sacred lands was a final "FUCK YOU!!!"from my European Ancestors to the people they displaced. Sigh.

Back to Keystone

The plan was to spend a last day in "civilization," doing Rushmore then maybe giving the kids a chance to swim around in the pool again. Well, we'd not counted on the extend to which Keystone truly exemplified the notion of "tourist trap." In its purest form. Zip lines (not a bad locale for this, the Black Hills, I will concede), gift shops, go-karts, etc. etc. And my kids are at a perfect age to be absolutely enamored with the notion of doing any or all of them. Had it been Sharon & me without the kids, we would have headed to the local ranger station and found some public access trails & gone on a hike. Or maybe explored into Custer State Park (which I've also visited in the past, and which is a wildlife bonanza). But...we had our Wild Place ahead of us on this trip, so we gave them Keystone for a day. Cynicism back on the shelf. Steeling myself against the onslaught of The Typical American Families that thronged the attractions. In the end, the kids got to do a mirror maze (which remained one of the highlights of the trip for Rosie to the bitter end) and a zip line (Sharon & I did this, as well), and get a treat; and then retreat for some more swimming at the pool.

This qualifies as a zip line, technically, I guess.

I will merely leave you with this one awesomely stupid find of Lucy's: Possibly the very worst missed-opportunity, inexplicable "poke your head through and take a picture" sign on the planet.

This missed opportunity and overall stupidity needs no explanation.

You may recall a bottled margarita phone camera share. That was the meal this night. Then back to the hotel.

I will mention one other note: Lucy had been diagnosed with ringworm (actually, not a worm - a fungus) on her arm a week or so before our vacation. Contagious, but not overly so - and treatable with over-the-counter Lotrimin. So she was in the midst of treatment. But on this second day in the hotel, Lucy started noticing some additional bumps: "My ringworm is spreading!" A little here, a little there. Neck, back, belly, along with some other red spots. We didn't outwardly show alarm, but we were starting to freak out, Sharon & I. Why were we not warned this was a possibility? And where would it end? And what was the implication of hotel bed sharing and sleeping bags and not changing out of camping clothes every day? erg...