Rushmore

First of all, I just have to begin this post by thanking the two incredibly generous people who have donated a lot to help me out on this venture (you wonderful folks know who you are). I am incredibly grateful, and I will worry less about when I have to eat something that isn't dry food or actually pay to camp when there's no alternative. Thank you so much.

Today was my first day camping in the same spot twice. I decided to see Mount Rushmore. And I didn't want to carry on north afterwards. Not to mention, I was dead tired from yesterday, so the idea of leaving my trailer here locked up and just biking with only my bike for once really appealed to me. ...I never would have made it with the trailer. It was liberating to be free of it, to be sure, but it also made me nervous to be separated from everything in it. It's not far from here to Rushmore, but that distance is deceptive. The hills are something fierce. This is also the first time my elevation was a zero sum game, going back where I started and thus not having a net elevation gain. ...So much up and down, that hardly seemed to matter.

And the reward for it all? ...I know people may hate me for this, but it wasn't that great. Oh sure, it's an incredibly impressive bit of engineering to carve faces like that into a mountain. ...But they're still just faces carved into a mountain. The surrounding scenery was way more beautiful and marveling I felt. I think honestly, I'll remember the incredibly steep 10% grade up and down way more than seeing the monument itself. And Keystone is one hell of a tourist trap little town. ...Though strangely cool at the same time. I think I enjoyed the Borglum Museum and learning about the man behind the monument and seeing his other artwork (sadly they allowed no pictures) more than Mount Rushmore itself.

Of course, the day wouldn't be complete without some mishaps. I had a minor fall on some damn gravel...actually, more like tricking rocks...going downhill. I braked hard, probably too hard, and had minimal momentum as I fell off right onto my ass. It still hurts, but it will be fine. At least no cuts or scrapes this time. Gravel is my bane. ...Okay, along with wind, and hills, and thorns, and...yeah. And speaking of wind... It blew like crazy for awhile today. And after my hard trip to Rushmore and back, I returned to find my tent, which I left standing since there seemed little reason not to, to not actually be quite so much standing as it should. Quick inspection discovered the end of a section of one of my tent poles was broken. ...Yeah, not good. I asked my friendly neighbor in his RV whom I  had met the night before in the diner (happens to hail from Columbus) for some duct tape. I tried very hard to solve the problem that way, but it just wasn't working. So eventually I decided to follow what is either an ancient adage or something I just made up: If you can't fix it, break it more. There was only half an inch or so of broken pole disconnected from the main piece, preventing it from properly curving. So, I decided to just break that broken section off completely. The pole forms just a slightly smaller arc now, but at least appears to be holding. ...For now, before the winds and the rain start tonight. Here's hoping.

I head west out of the Black Hills tomorrow, into Wyoming. It's been rough going here, but I would never say it wasn't worth it. I recommend to anyone and everyone that they should come out here, especially if they haven't been. Don't come for the Hot Springs and Keystone tourist traps or even for Mount Rushmore, come to see the natural beauty of the land a dispossessed people considered sacred which those sites are exploiting, come to experience the wonder and terror of having bison cross the road right in front of you, and come for all the neat people that are here. It's well worth the difficult hills (especially if you're doing them the easy way by dead dinosaur power).

By the way, not wanting to pay the $11 to be positioned a fraction closer to the monument, I saw it from the road just fine. And I contend that I was not stopped, and certainly not "parked" where I wasn't meant to be, but inching forward on my bike when I took pictures of it.