Mount Rushmore - August 17

Since I had  free time today, I dashed over the border into South Dakota to see Mount Rushmore. It rained steadily, and sometimes quite hard, as I drove through the Black Hills National Forest. The rain stopped when I emerged from the parking lot at Mount Rushmore itself. I took this as some sort of sign. I think the rain had the advantage  of thinning out the crowd a bit. (As most of you know, I am not a fan of crowds. That is one reason I am in Wyoming.) But there were plenty of people there, and all of us were astounded when a large passenger jet airliner flew, at a very low altitude, in a circle twice around the mountain top. All of us stood transfixed watching it. I am sure I was not the  only one who had uncomfortable thoughts while this was happening. But all was well. Mysterious, but well. Just the pilot giving  the passengers a view of the monument, someone said.

My response to seeing this monument was strong. I am in awe of the workers who hung off the mountaintop for over six years, with chisels and jack-hammers and dynamite to accomplish this task. It is an impressive site. Like Devil's Tower, the scale of the structure is startling. A movie, shown at the Visitor Center, showed old footage of the men hanging in mid-air. This makes me queasy, just as the thought of people climbing to the top of Devil's Tower makes me queasy. Both monuments, for some people, are sacred. I understand and appreciate that response. I cannot say which is the greater mystery.

I regret that the rain discouraged me from stopping to see the monument to Crazy Horse that is still being sculpted. It is appropriate to wonder whose mountains these really are.