Topeka, Kansas

          It was the beginning of the week, and I was heading toward Kansas: the state of “Home on the Range,” Toto and Dorothy, and The Little House on the Prairie. Having thoroughly enjoyed my experience in Lincoln, I was looking forward to another state of a similar mentality. I spent most of the drive enjoying the scenery, and reveling in the journey. I arrived in Kansas in the early evening, and cooked myself dinner. The next morning I woke up on the earlier side, and discovered that the shower in my hotel room did not drain at all. I went down to the front desk to sort out the issue, but by the time the maintenance guy came up to fix it, it was two hours later. I was not terribly pleased with the way my morning started, but I drove to the Capitol determined to lift my spirits.

            When I turned the corner and the dome came into view I was astonished to see the entire structure covered in scaffolding. I definitely did not expect to encounter such a massive renovation, and their website conveniently failed to mention that the work was being done. I walked around the perimeter of the building, melting in the Kansas sun. It was the beginning of October and I could only imagine what it must be like during the dog days of summer. By the time I reached the only open entrance, I was happy to be inside. I complied with the usual security measures, and asked the policeman about the renovation. He sighed and said that it had been going on for about ten years, but thankfully they only had a few more months left to go. “Ten years!” I exclaimed, “That’s a long time for a renovation!”

“Yes, yes it is,” He replied with a grim, weary look on his face, as if the ordeal had robbed him of all the pleasure his job once held.

            I hurried over to the information desk, where I signed the guestbook and asked about guided tours. I was told that a tour had just left, but if I ran up to the fourth floor, I might be able to catch them in the chambers. I took “the cage,” and old-fashioned, original elevator complete with operator. I entered, requested level four, and grinned as the operator close the door. The trip was short and sweet, and I thanked the operator and she promptly shut the door behind me. I hurried around the balconies surrounding the rotunda, stopping briefly to take a peak at the glorious view before rushing to join the tour.

            The guide was speaking about the furniture and other features of the house chamber, and did not miss a beat as I approached. Two older couples were listening attentively, but as soon as there was a pause in the guide’s description, they all asked me my name, where I was from, and what the purpose of my visit was. I quickly explained my trip, and one of the women immediately started asking me about different Capitol buildings I’d been to. She told me a story about her visit to the South Carolina Capitol, where she and her husband witnessed a once in a lifetime spectacle. Only a winch supported the reproduction chandeliers in the Senate chamber, and it was also used to lower and raise them for cleaning and changing the bulbs. As the couple was entering the senate chamber while on a tour, workers were lifting one of the 1,000-pound chandeliers after cleaning it. Part of the way up, the cable suddenly snapped, and the enormous fixture came crashing to the floor with a resounding boom. Thankfully, no one was hurt, but the glass bulbs shattered, the fixture was in pieces, and 3 or 4 desks that took the hit were broken as well.

            Next we went to the law library, where a number of people were working in peaceful silence. The room contained two-story bookshelves that went right through the second floor. To reach the higher shelves, we had to climb up a small stairway and stand on the frosted glass floor above. It was a little unnerving, but the design was downright cool. The room maintained its functionality on the first floor, while the second floor provided access to the additional storage on the higher shelves. It was definitely one of my favorite law libraries I had been to so far.

  Next we examined some paintings in the main hallways of the building. Right next to ‘the cage,’ there is a mural depicting John Brown, an abolitionist that became famous for his violent contributions to the slavery conflict. Although he first attempted to fight slavery through nonviolent means such as being a part of the Underground Railroad, John Brown eventually resorted to violence, and he is remembered mostly for those exploits. John Brown and his cronies murdered 5 pro-slavery men in the Pottawatomie Massacre of 1856. They dragged them from their homes in Pottawatomie, Kansas, brought them into the forest, and bludgeoned them with broad swords. Apparently, several pro-slavery men carried out a similar attack a few days before, but Brown’s actions became much more famous. What followed was a series of retaliations that resulted in the deaths of 29 people.

Several months later in August of 1856, 300 Missouri men under the command of Major General John W. Reid marched into Kansas with the intention of destroying abolitionist communities. They killed John Brown’s son, Frederick, and his neighbor David Garrison on the outskirts of Osawatomie, Kansas. Brown organized 38 men and led a resistance that was outnumbered by more than seven to one. They managed to kill twenty of Reid’s men and wound forty more of them before they were forced to retreat into the woods while the Missourians destroyed Osawatomie. Although they were unsuccessful in protecting their town, their courage earned them respect and John Brown the nickname “Osawatomie Brown.”

The controversy surrounding ‘bleeding Kansas,’ translated directly to the painting when it was first finished. It showed John Brown standing on the Prairie with an aggressive look on his face while holding a broad sword. I can certainly understand why Kansans would be offended by the glorification of John Brown because of his contribution to the violence at the beginning of Kansas’ history. I do not approve of John Brown’s methods, but if it wasn’t for the violent nature of the conflicts in Kansas, the horror of slavery may have persisted longer than it did.

            We continued to the Supreme Court Chamber, which no longer serves its original purpose, but is used as a committee room instead. On our way over, I noticed the banisters on the stairs and how beautiful they were. Certain details like that really make up the Capitol’s character, and each one designs them a little differently. The old Supreme Court Chamber was kind of plain but very pleasant. After our stop there the official tour was over but since I missed the very beginning of the tour, I went back to the Senate Chamber to check it out. It was prettier than the House Chamber, and while all the furniture in the House Chamber were reproductions, the furniture in the Senate Chamber was original. I was impressed by the decoration throughout the building, and even though the renovation had taken more than ten years, it was clearly worth the work.

            After visiting the Capitol, I went to a local taco joint for lunch. The inside looked kind of old school with the hard booths and wooden paneling on the walls. It reminded me of a few different sandwich and pizza places I’d been to in upstate New York where I vacationed with my family in the summers.  I ordered at the front, and a few minutes later I walked back up to retrieve my fare and pay for it. The burrito was piping hot and incredibly messy, but it was delicious and inexpensive. I ate quickly and left a short while later feeling satisfied and ready to write for the rest of the evening.

            The next day, I woke up, packed up my stuff, checked out of my hotel, and went to the Kansas Museum of History. It was just a short way from my hotel, tucked away from the busy streets down a long driveway in a green, wooded area. I paid the nominal entrance fee, and began exploring. It was all on one floor, but the area was huge. It was very dimly it, and but the displays were set up so that I had a very clear idea of where I was supposed to go next. After describing the Native Americans indigenous to the area and the early pioneers who settled the region, the exhibit turned its attention to the Civil War.

Kansas was the other territory that was defined with the signing of the Kansas-Nebraska Act

. After the law allowed white male citizens in the region to decide the matter of slavery by popular sovereignty, antislavery and pro-slavery advocates flooded into the area to sway the decision either way, and a massive amount of bloodshed ensued. Stephen Douglas, an Illinois Senator, crafted the Kansas-Nebraska act in order to open up thousands of new farms and build a Midwestern transcontinental railroad. The addition of allowing slavery to be decided by popular sovereignty destroyed any possible positive results that could have come from the bill, and instead it cost many lives and Franklin Pierce his reelection. As a result, Stephen Douglas also lost his future bid for the presidency in 1860 against Republican Abraham Lincoln.

The museum also had a train in it complete with track and several cars, which spanned the entire length of the second half of the exhibit. I climbed up the short flight of stairs to take a look inside. One of the cars was a passenger car, giving visitors and idea of what it might have been like to be a passenger. There were also a number of displays about the railroad industry, and its advantages and its drawbacks throughout the 19th century and early 20th century. At the end of the exhibits focusing on the 20th century, stairs led you to a balcony where you could overlook the entire museum. It was definitely one of the most interesting history museums I’d been to so far, and it used its space most efficiently. I never felt like I wasn’t sure where to go next, and most of the displays held my attention. They had gone above and beyond making it informative, and found a way to give an extra bit of flavor to the history. It was everything you’d want in a museum.

            I left the museum feeling optimistic and rejuvenated. Kansas, along with Nebraska, embody the dreams of the American pioneers in the 1800s. Pioneers left the bustle of the cities in the east and journeyed to the open plain. While life was far from easy, the land supported its inhabitants, and human civilization spread. The Mississippi allowed for transport and farming, and the people lived a simple yet fulfilling life. Although the conflict of the Civil War meant a bloody beginning for the territories of Kansas and Nebraska, they have become a testament to the tenacity of humankind and the determination of American culture. Today, the Great Plains sustains Omaha and Kansas City, as well as the largest amount of corn and wheat you’ve ever seen in your life. It is a very interesting place, and a must-see on the journey to discover American culture. I set my sights east, and headed toward Missouri.

Lincoln, Nebraska

        After spending the week in the Dakotas, I was eager to return to a more populated area. Lincoln was my next destination, and while some may not think of Nebraska as a bustling metropolis, it was nice just to be in a state that was home to more than 1 million people. Not only was I going to be able to eat delicious food, but it was also the weekend, and I had the privilege of staying in the Cornhusker state for three whole days. I was looking forward to kicking back and renting a movie, and perhaps cooking a nice meal. It was also less than two weeks before I would be arriving in Texas. I had been on the road for a month, it was kind of liberating, but also a little mindboggling to think about. I was beginning to get very tired of hotels.

            When I first descended from the interstate into the heart of downtown, I have to admit I was thrilled to be back in a city. It was Saturday night, and there were throngs of young people walking about, laughing and filled with that weekend glow. As tired as I was from another day of travel, it was exciting to be in a thriving college town. While I was looking forward to relaxing for the first time in a week, I also felt rejuvenated by my surroundings. The first concrete thing that I noticed about Lincoln, Nebraska was that they used a very logical system to name streets. Streets that ran north to south were named numerically, from west to east. For example, if you encountered 4th street, you would know that you were in the western most part of the city, whereas 84th street signified that you are located in the east. Logically, the streets traveling west to east were named with a letter of the alphabet that began in the South and ascended to the North. Therefore, if you were at A Street, you were at the southern-most tip of what could honestly be called “downtown,” and if you were at Y Street, you were in the Northern part of the city around the college campus. It was very easy to decipher, and I was thrilled at the simplicity of it. Washington D.C. follows a similar pattern, and it is because it was planned. Cities that expanded rapidly around ports, like Boston, did not benefit from this glorious foresight.

 I located my hotel without difficulty. It was in the southeastern part of the city in a residential area, away from most of the hubbub. As usual, I decided on a Candlewood Suites, mostly because I wanted to cook myself a few nice meals over the weekend, and they always include a full kitchen complete with stovetop and dishwasher. I checked in, loaded a luggage cart to capacity with my belongings, and transported it to my temporary home. Once everything was organized in its usual place, the toiletries in the bathroom, my clothes by the bed, and the cooler emptied into the fridge and stored in the closet, I could finally unwind. I switched on the TV and sunk into the pillow top mattress, welcoming sweet oblivion.

            Sunday was filled with glorious nothing. I relaxed in the hotel room, watched the Great Gatsby, and cooked some delicious tacos. I explored the area a little in search of coffee and groceries, but mostly I reveled in the solace of a hotel during the day; until check-in time, even a library isn’t as quiet. A month on the road is very taxing, and it is incredible how travel makes you hurt like never before. Even the little muscles next to my tibia ached! Being able to enjoy one day a week when I was neither walking around Capitols and museums nor confined for hours in a car was a blessing I had grown to appreciate without regret. Combined with the fact that most of the country does not operate to its fullest extent on Sundays, this meant that it was, thankfully, my day of rest. Don’t get me wrong, a good portion of the day was spent writing blog posts and working on college applications, but I was happy just to spend the day in my pajamas.

            The next day, I awoke around the usual time, and headed into the city. First, I went to the Nebraska State Museum on the University of Nebraska campus. I realized shortly after paying admission that I had mistakenly gone to a museum of natural history rather than a museum of social history. There were no dates and important political figures, but rather a bunch of mammoth and elephant skeletons. To be honest, I was delighted in the change of pace, and I seized the opportunity with gusto. I walked around for quite a while looking at all of the displays, examining artifacts and taking in all sorts of information. 

          On the second floor there was a magnificent exhibit of all kinds of quartz found throughout Nebraska. In all shapes, colors, and sizes, quartz is a very beautiful substance. Some of the samples even glowed in dark! I loved it, to say the least. 

           Although my visit was pleasant, I had to see the Capitol that same day, so I left the building behind in search of that temple of state. I heard at several of my other stops so far that Nebraska’s capitol was particularly beautiful. Knowing that it was one of the skyscraper Capitols, I have to admit that I was somewhat skeptical.

            When I arrived at the Capitol, my first impression was that it was grand. Unlike the North Dakota Capitol, this skyscraper seemed to hold a little more promise. The base was sprawled around the tower, encompassing it’s own block in the southern edge of downtown. I snapped a few pictures of the outside before heading inside through the doors on the ground floor, assuming that the main doors would be locked. My first impression was that I had transported to a dungeon in medieval times. The ceiling was low, and the hallway was dimly lit. There was an information desk in the center of the ground floor, but no one was behind it. I found the stairs and began to climb. When I reached the second floor, the first thing I noticed were two large doors colored in vivid designs. I rounded the corner, and gasped as the ceiling soared above me. A large chandelier dominated the space, but the mosaic floor designs and glorious paintings were beyond words.

The tour started in the Great Hall, where several different murals depicted scenes in Nebraska history. One of the murals in the Great Hall depicted the Blizzard of 1888, one of the most severe snowstorms to ever hit Nebraska. It came on so suddenly that many people lost their lives. In fourteen hours, the temperature plummeted from 30 degrees in the morning to 14 below later that night. In an act of heroism, 19-year-old schoolteacher Minnie Freeman tied her students together and led them to safety at a nearby farmhouse through the howling wind and blinding whiteouts after the roof was torn off of their schoolhouse. Unfortunately, many others were not so lucky.

            We moved on to the only legislative chamber currently in use; Nebraska is the only state with a unicameral legislature. The second chamber is behind the vividly colored doors I spotted on my way up from the ground level. Senators run on a ballot devoid of political affiliations, and therefore must win on their own merit. As with many states, Nebraska’s legislature does not run all year, and the legislature was out of session when I visited. Our next stop was the Supreme Court room, where the seven Nebraska Supreme Court justices meet once a month to hear oral arguments. The room has perfect acoustics and a beautiful American Walnut wood ceiling.

After we saw the Supreme Court Chamber, the tour was over, but afterwards our guide recommended that we go up to the observation deck to see the view of the city. High above, the tiny elevator opened up to a small room that had two doors to the outside, and one of them was propped open. I ventured out the open door to a very narrow space on the outside of the building. Protected by a metal mesh supported by columns of stone that went high above my head, I was able to gaze out across the expanse of Lincoln and beyond. The view was spectacular, and although I felt the same flip in my stomach as it did every time I was confronted with a massive expanse, I realized that this time I wasn’t afraid; I actually enjoyed it. For the first time that I could remember, I enjoyed the uneasy feeling of being so high up. It was liberating.

After observing Lincoln in every direction, I returned to the elevator, which I took to the second floor. Stepping off, I was able to see the beautiful floor mosaic from above, giving a better view of the piece as a whole. As I journeyed around the second floor balcony, I encountered the law library, which serves as a reference for members of congress or the general public. Although it was not decorated to the same extent as the rest of the building, it was open, well lit, and pleasant. I returned to the main floor, basked for the last time in all of the elaborate designs surrounding me, and departed.

The next day I had to pack up my belongings and checked out of the hotel, but I still had to visit the Museum of Nebraska History. I ventured downtown, and after a few minutes, I finally found parking close to my destination. I explored the museum for about two hours. The cowboy exhibit was the one that set this museum apart from the other ones that I have visited. I have ridden horses since I was about five years old, and although I have never been a rancher or a cowgirl, I have a deep appreciation for all things equine. Western saddles used by cowboys are typically heavy, handmade, and durable. They are made of leather, and the craftsman usually carves designs into the leather to make it as beautiful as it is useful. After World War II, a leather shortage prompted a need for other materials to make saddles. William B. Vandegrift, a businessman from Alliance, Nebraska, began to experiment with the idea of making plastic saddles and founded the All Western Plastic Company in Lusk, Wyoming. Since the saddles became brittle and cold in the weather, ranchers and cowboys never really warmed up to the idea of saddles made of plastic. After a tornado destroyed their new factory in Scottsbluff, Nebraska, the All Western Plastic Company closed down. They only made 60 saddles during the short time that they were in business, and this museum has one of them on display.

The rest of the museum focused on the formation of Nebraska, the Civil War, and other things of a similar nature. Nebraska was one of the states bloodied by the Kansas-Nebraska Act, a bill passed by Congress that enabled the residents of the territories of Kansas and Nebraska to decide the legality of slavery by popular sovereignty. This legislation led to a massive migration into the region by advocates of either side. Those individuals tried to tip the scales in either direction through violence, intimidation, and sheer numbers. Although “Bleeding Kansas” was the more famous of the two, Nebraska saw plenty of the conflict as well. In 1864, Lincoln allowed the territory to write a constitution and organize a state government. Three years later, the state of Nebraska was born.

           I left the museum with a satisfied feeling of accomplishment. I felt like I got to know Lincoln as the charming college town that it was, and the Capitol building was among my favorites. During my visit, I learned that Nebraska is the only state with a unicameral legislature, and candidates must run on a non-partisan ballot. The natural history museum I visited was an interesting stop, and the Museum of Nebraska History was very informative. Many state museums have a heavy emphasis on the Civil War, and Nebraska’s had a particularly thorough exhibit due to its formation as a territory with the passing of the Kansas-Nebraska Act, which was one of the key pieces of legislation that led to the Civil War. Most of the individuals that I met were friendly and helpful, and the stories that I heard about Nebraskans of the past demonstrated that they possessed the hardiness to thrive on the plains. I thoroughly enjoyed my visit to Lincoln, and I as the sun lowered in the sky, I headed towards Kansas. 

Pierre, South Dakota

         When I arrived in Pierre, South Dakota after nine hours of travel, I was relieved to finally rest my head. It was too late to find a meal elsewhere, so I cooked some chicken that traveled with me in the cooler that has become my trusty companion. Combined with some modest salad fixings, I was grateful to have a filling and nutritious meal after the exhausting day. It’s funny how sitting in a car can be one of the most tiring things to endure, and my muscles were so stiff that stretching out in the hotel bed felt heavenly.

The following morning I awoke with a fierce appetite. I dressed and drove into town, hopeful to find something to satisfy my desire for breakfast food. My hotel was technically in Fort Pierre, the suburb of Pierre that lies across the Missouri River. As I crossed the river into Pierre, I passed into the Central time zone from the Mountain Time zone. It struck me that having the delineation pass directly through the center of everything must be confusing for the residents of Pierre and Fort Pierre, but throughout the rest of my day I realized that a misunderstanding of appointment time may be the most exciting thing that happens here all week.

Pierre is the second smallest Capitol by population, following Montpelier, Vermont. Because this town is far more isolated from the rest of society, the effects of low population and a weak economy are much clearer. In Montpelier, trucks and people are constantly passing through, and although the town itself is not a terribly ‘happening’ place, the far more populated city of Burlington is less than an hour’s drive away. Here, there isn’t anything going on for miles, and that leads to a lack of economic competition and therefore, bad restaurants. I went a place with the word “diner” in the name, the Jersey girl in me assuming that it would actually be a diner. When I arrived, I realized that the menu was closer to that of a drive-in and with everyone in the place staring at me like I had six heads, I left and went to a bagel shop in search of something breakfast like. When I received my breakfast sandwich, a bacon, egg and cheese, I was very disappointed to discover that they had barely cooked any of the ingredients and the bagel was hard, chewy, and stale. Thankfully, after my large, steaming cup of coffee, I was able to continue sans-breakfast. I then ventured to the South Dakota State History Museum, where I had a lengthy conversation about the details of my travels with the kind gentleman running the front desk.

South Dakota has been host to a few historical events that are iconic to America. Lewis and Clark made their famous journey up the Missouri river and across the Rocky Mountains to find a path to the Pacific Ocean. Sent by Thomas Jefferson to explore the Louisiana Purchase, they left St. Louis, Missouri on May 14th, 1804 and arrived upriver in South Dakota on August 22nd. After serving as mediators between the warring Arikara and Mandan tribes, they spent the winter in South Dakota with the Mandan. Once spring arrived, they finished their journey to the Pacific, and returned to St. Louis in 1806. Considering the hazards and the magnitude of their journey, it seems justified that Lewis and Clark are among the most famous American pioneers, if not the most famous. Along with the construction of Mount Rushmore, one could make the argument that South Dakota is home to some of the most classic stories and monuments of our heritage.

The museum was mostly on one level, although there was an observation area on the second floor in the back of the building. As usual, there was large section dedicated to the Native Americans in South Dakota, along with the pioneer era. In between that and the exhibit dedicated to more modern times, there was a door that led upstairs to the observation deck. The museum was situated on a large hill, giving one a view of the town and the Capitol building below. It was a dreary, cloudy day and the Capitol dome nearly disappeared amongst the clouds. I was as tired as the lazy condensation, and the aches and pains in my legs and back from yesterday’s long day of driving was not helping my enthusiasm. I descended back to the main floor of the museum to explore the 20th century. I turned the corner, and the full Klu Klux Klan uniform hanging eerily behind the glass caught my attention sharply. It was just as surprising as the first time I encountered one in the Museum of Indiana History. It turned my stomach to look up into the ghostly, empty hood, thinking that there are few garments that are more haunting. I shuddered and moved on, grateful to be away from that awful uniform of hate.

I left the museum and ventured toward the Capitol building. School had just let out, and children were walking everywhere, laughing and talking animatedly. Caught in a moment of small-town charm, I realized that I didn’t see a single parent picking up their child at school, but instead they all climbed onto the school bus, walked, or rode their bikes. I was heartening to see such sensibility displayed in the 21st century; every school zone in New Jersey is a perpetual nightmare because no parent can seem to handle the terrifying concept of letting his or her children ride the bus. I cautiously navigated the groups of laughing kids and found parking a short distance from the school, right in front of the Capitol.

It was a small, traditionally styled building. I entered through the front door, where I was greeted with no security. In fact, I wasn’t greeted by anyone. The legislators were not in session, and the building was so deserted that I stood in the main part of the rotunda on the ground floor taking pictures for several minutes before a young woman walked by with a loud clip-clopping of her heels declaring her presence. It was definitely the most empty of all of the Capitols that I had been to, but it was also beautiful. The rotunda and first three levels of the building were all constructed of a blinding white marble, giving the small space an impressive amount of light. 

The dome didn’t appear to be much at all, but I learned later that a stained glass window usually sits at the bottom of the dome. Presently, it had been sent to Chicago to be cleaned. As I ventured about, first to the Governor’s office to get the Capitols Collection stamp, and then upstairs to the House and Senate Chambers, I enjoyed the architecture and design. It wasn’t the most ornate Capitol I’d been to, but it was tastefully done and traditional. Both of the chambers were dimly lit, small, and traditionally plain. It looked at though all of the furniture was original, and the gallery wrapped all the way around so as to give curious citizens a better view of the proceedings. It was cozy, but very empty.

After leaving the Capitol, I went out in search of a good meal. I pulled into the parking lot of a promising looking Mexican place only to discover that it was undergoing renovations. A couple in a large white pickup had just made the same mistake, and we sat in our cars with the windows rolled down conversing about the disappointment. The woman said, “You know, I can’t even give you a good suggestion. Pierre isn’t very good for food,” giving a sympathetic smile.

After my less than satisfying breakfast experience, I felt reinforced in my suspicions that this would be one of those cities in which I would grow to love my hot plate dearly. I picked up a few simple ingredients at the local super market, a small business called Dakotamart, and returned to the hotel room for a quiet night.

The following morning I left the area with a small measure of relief. Even though South Dakota is home to some of the most important stories of American history, there is not much happening there in the present. The impossible vastness of it all prevents significant economic development, and the isolation of all the towns prevents competition between businesses, and so everyone’s standards for services begin to lower. Even still, I could appreciate the awe that Lewis and Clark must have felt exploring the land so many decades ago, as I have felt it myself traversing their great expanse. Turning up the music I set my sights for Lincoln, Nebraska.

Drive to Mount Rushmore

         The expansiveness of the Dakotas only made a greater impression on me the longer I stayed within their borders. Driving west from Bismarck, I encountered several things which one only finds in the middle of the nowhere: the World’s Largest Ceramic Cow, large metal sculptures of flying birds, and herds of cows that apparently belong to someone, but there is no house, barn, or structure of any kind in sight. I saw a herd of buffalo, grazing peacefully in some farmer’s field, but it was not the first time I’d seen them. When I was younger, my family went on vacation to Yellowstone National Park, where there were not only buffalo, but there were also endless videos to watch of people being mauled by buffalos, warning tourists not to venture too close to the deceivingly speedy beasts. I generally like to observe strange, powerful animals from afar anyway, so the temptation to stand next to one to snap a picture was never particularly strong for me.

            Lost in thoughts of my travels, I missed the exit that was to take me south toward Mount Rushmore. Just as I realized my blunder, I turned a corner and entered Theodore Roosevelt National Park, an alien landscape called the Badlands, similar to the ones in South Dakota. It was unbelievable to see the glacier-carved, multi colored dunes that acted as wind tunnels for the unrelenting gusts, looking as varied as sand but as solid as stone. The hills had been robbed of any soil by the unforgiving wind, exposing multiple layers of stone of impossibly vivid colors. It was tremendous, unforgettable, and mysterious, and I was immediately thankful that I had missed my turn.

            After returning to my route, the land once again retreated into the vast, empty landscape that had dominated my vision for so long. Hours rolled on, and the scenery changed little. I passed through towns that have no businesses but an auto body shop, a gas station, and one restaurant, visible from a distance only because of the cell tower and water tower peaking up over the trees. It was almost hypnotizing, but I was determined to make it before night. Hours later, I arrived in Keystone just a little while before the darkness totally swallowed the land.

            There is a fair amount of controversy surrounding Mount Rushmore when it comes to the local Native Americans, the Sioux. In 1868, the United States government promised the Sioux land in western South Dakota that includes the Black Hills, the mountains upon which Rushmore is built. Unsurprisingly, they only honored that agreement until gold was found in the area, and in the 1870s the government forced the Sioux to give up the Black Hills portion of their territory. This was particularly insulting not only because the United States government was going back on a deal with the Native Americans for the umpteenth time, but also because the Black Hills are considered sacred ground by the tribes. When Mount Rushmore was built more than 60 years later, it served as a painful reminder to the natives of all the ways in which European settlers have infringed upon their beliefs, rights, and territory.

             The approach to Mt. Rushmore was riddled with signs for various gimmicks and attractions, a trademark of the American road trip. Although I did not stop for any, they all seemed as though they would be mildly disappointing, expensive, and not worth the trouble, as I had been warned by countless novels and relatives alike. Long before I arrived, there were signs for Mount Rushmore that dotted the interstate, making my anticipation grow increasingly by the minute. I crawled up the mountain, taking my time to look at all of the souvenir shops and hotels that were erected solely for the traffic to and from Mt. Rushmore (let’s be honest, there’s no other reason to go to rural, southwestern South Dakota). On the way up the mountain, I glimpsed my first sight of the monument, surveying the land solemnly and serenely on a backdrop of autumn clouds. It was breathtaking, and in that moment I felt like I became just a little more of an American. I climbed back in my car and drove the rest of the way up to the entrance of the main viewing area. Once I paid for parking, $11 for the whole year, I wound my way to the top of the parking deck, which was the only level that could accommodate my excessive height of more than seven feet.

            I exited the car, bundled up, and jumped up and down with excitement as I gazed up at one of the most famous American monuments. The viewing area had bathrooms, a large gift shop, and a stand with several jovial youngsters serving burgers and hot dogs. I walked up just in time to hear the young man who was taking orders apologize with a sheepish grin and a shrug for a customer’s dissatisfaction with his cheaply purchased convenience food. I was under no delusion that the hot dog I was about to buy was going to be the best one I’d ever eaten; far from it, I was fully prepared to over-pay, get something less than acceptable, and throw it away without taking more than one bite. I was ravenous, and the idea of something high in protein that was at least edible was extremely motivating, so I stepped up to the stand after the disgruntled tourist walked away. The young man behind the counter greeted me with a smile, a chuckle, and a cordial, “Hello, how can I disappoint you today?” I laughed heartily for the first time in several hours, and ordered my convenience food, which was actually not so bad, at least as hot dogs go.

            I ate quickly and walked through the columns displaying each state’s flag to the viewing deck. It was cold, windy, and overcast, but for several long moments I stood in absolute awe of the vision before me. The faces of Washington, Jefferson, Roosevelt, and Lincoln are portrayed in an inconceivable amount of detail. My mind wandered, imagining what it would be like for people hundreds of years from now to visit, or possibly rediscover, such an incredible sculpture. Even as a present-day American who has been bombarded with images of it for as long as I can remember, it was surreal to behold Mt. Rushmore in all of its glory. It really was huge, and quite spectacular. If you’re able to, it is definitely worth a visit.

Although I wished to linger, the day was growing old, and I still had over four hours to drive to Pierre, the capital of South Dakota. I clambered back in my car, and with one more look at our American wonder, I returned to the interstate as the sun set behind the mountains.

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