"My Land is Where My people Are Buried" Crazy Horse

Went to Crazy Horse yesterday. We stopped in Custer on the way because hey; what’s a good road trip without any shopping, right? We stopped in a coffee shop for some latte and a couple of homemade pastries. I will never look at Panera the same way again. This weekend is Gold Rush days but we’ll be long gone by then so I figured I better get something now. Bob bought me the most awesome suede coat and we bought some gifts for the family. Sorry, no details on that in case they’re reading this. They have plaster buffalo all over town that have been painted by the local artists much like the cows of Chicago a few years back. Very cool looking. This whole town is rather artsy phartzy. I really enjoyed it.

We spent the day riding up to the mountain; we had to go through Custer National park to get to Crazy Horse. I finally get the whole “prairie” thing. Until you’ve seen it it really is hard to picture it. I always thought the prairie was like Kansas; kind of flat and featureless. Nothing could be further from the truth. The hills are softly undulating, like the full bosom of a nursing mother. The swells in the land provide small valleys for water to run through or for prey to hide in. As we rode past the herds of buffalo and antelope I found myself envisioning the tribes that lived here and how much they depended on the variety of plants and animals to survive. There’s a trading post in Custer that had the hides of muskrat, deer, bison, elk, raccoon, badgers, and on and on. It made me think of the stories of the French fur traders who came here almost 200 years ago to get pelts to sell to the wealthy folks back east. The prairie dogs remind me of Lucy; sitting on their back legs looking around, always curious as to what the bigger animals are doing and wondering whether or not there was anything of interest for them to investigate. I had to laugh out loud when I saw a pair wrestling. I caught myself thinking of little terrier Lucy taking on Bull Mastiff Sake; it would be like the prairie dogs taking on the buffalo. The park spans about 15 miles of road. I’m sure it’s actually several hundred thousand acres but the road cruisers we’re riding on will never see that particular landscape. I saw a sign that said “Buffalo are dangerous animals”. Ya think? They weigh in at roughly 2000 lbs when full grown; I sure wouldn’t want one pissed off at me. How sad that such a sign has to be posted in the first place. Yo! Tourists! Keep your kids on the path and off the bison’s front porch and don’t gripe when they fall in the buffalo shit because you let them run wild.

So anyway; we get to the sculpture and I’m just blown away. You can see it from around 5 miles away and the face is very distinctive. When you get to the actual visitor center you’re still about a mile from the mountain, it’s just so freaking huge it looks like it’s within touching distance. The place was jam-packed with people and I’m OK with that. It keeps federal money out of the process and allows the family to do the work they do to carry on the dream of the original tribal leaders and the sculptor. Out of all the places we’ve been so far I think this is my favorite. According to the "orientation" video we saw they were offered $10 million by the federal government twice in the last 60 years and both times the Lakota people and the sculptor said "Thanks, but no thanks". They believed having the government involved would only fuck things up and only free enterprise would get this thing built. All the people on this project believed that a free person can accomplish so much more than a person who takes government hand-outs. Even if it takes a thousand years, better to have the whole dream untainted by politics and the scum who reside in DC. Ain't that the truth. Now if only everyone else could get that lesson.OK, Beckie, no politics.
Moving on...

We got back to camp in time to watch a true South Dakota whopper of a storm; the winds were so bad the Dawg Haus shook but miraculously our bikes stayed standing, they just got wet. This was actually a good thing because after the rain and lightening were over I went out with a flashlight and got all the road dust and bug splat off of the fenders so tomorrow they’ll look freshly washed. It got a bit chilly here so I’m really glad Bob bought me that Alpaca poncho in Broadus at the wool shop. That sucker is toasty warm. I just hope I don’t wind up fighting with Sake and Lucy over it.
Bob downloaded “Deadliest Catch” and I cried like a baby even though I knew Cap’n Phil died last spring. Not sure how I got caught up in the whole show but I sure did. It has become our ritual to sit together on Wednesday nights and eat popcorn and raisinettes while watching those guys bust their ass to make sure we get crab in the flatlands.

More adventure today as we hit highway 16A and the hair-pin bridges that everyone is so excited about around here. We’re about 1 hour from Mt. Rushmore; we’ll fart around and then come back to camp where we will prepare for our next leg of the journey: Wall Drug and a stop at the Oglala Lakota Nation. Wounded Knee is on the list as well. See you soon Constant Reader.



The local bank which is now a steakhouse.



The Trading post: cool stuff but lots of junk too.



the coffee shop where they serve a pretty fine latte



Lemon bars: why don't I make these? I love lemon bars!



Peanut Butter Turtle; peanut butter, chewie brownie, chopped peanuts, caramel. (Hey, it's hard to bake like this on a campfire!)


This picture made me think of my friend Ronda: she has a thing for birdhouses and has been doing this same thing for years.


This is an old Studebaker: It's on my post because I love my husband and think he should get to have some "Bob" pictures on here as well. I have no idea what year it is.



The local VFW: I wish the tent hadn't been there. The mural was cool.



The prairie. These pictures were taken on the way to our campsite while we were still in the truck.



The brown patches you see are Prairie dog holes...



A helmet-cam is definitely called for!!




A panorama shot of Crazy Horse from about 5 miles away.




The progress on the mountain so far and the statue they use for a template.



The rails on the head are for workers, the rails on the arms are for tourists to go up and look out.


The white paint is an outline for the next phase: carving the horse's ears and then moving on to the head.



The wonderful man who made this all possible and his groovy wife...


The mountain as seen from the visitors deck.


A lucky shot: a hawk flying around while I was taking pictures.


Someday this will be a cultural center and a medical college for both modern traditional and ancient medical learning. All Indian nations will have a place here for study and teaching others as well.



This sign is on the road leading to the worksite of the actual mountain. nice of them to warn us, don't you think? (side note; they only blast for one day in June and one September.Check the website if you want the exact dates)


This letter to the public was written by the sculptor. (sorry, I can't spell his name, look it up.) It explains why Crazy Horse was chosen to be depicted in granite.



The sculptor as a relatively young man. He worked on the mountain almost his entire life. He sired 10 children here and 7 of them still work on the mountain to this day.



Indians doing a traditional dance. I missed out on the show; it was too crowded to get on the deck and the next show was long after we were planning to leave. Oh well, next year I guess.


The flags of all Nations hanging from the ceiling in the visitor center.



Bronze statue of two horses fighting. (I actually saw two stallions doing this on my way to Billings, Montana. It is an awesome sight.)