My biggest dream has always been to see a mountain with
larger-than life-size faces protruding so stately out of it. When I was little
and this dream took much too long to accomplish, I figured I would create my
own version of a mountain with faces. And who would be the model but me. There
would be little me, bubbly little thing with curly hair flying wildly to make
my mark on a mountain. The world just had to be made aware of awesome little
me. Now many years later, I get to see the real thing.
Arriving in South Dakota way too early for the average sane
person, we stop off at a local diner to have breakfast. When you’re driving for
hours on end the time for proper sit down meals are distorted and you will find
yourself eating dinner when you’re suppose to be having breakfast and lunch
when you’re suppose to be having afternoon tea. With stomachs singing in tune
to the radio blaring in the car, we made the best decision. The diner served
some really delicious biscuits and gravy, my wonderful introduction to
mouthwatering southern food. Next because of the ungodly hour we had arrived
there, and because we had to see this mountain with faces in it in just the
correct light, we did some exploring in the light town. We stepped out of the
diner looked up the street and then down the street, and had seen the entire
town plus some in that two minute turn of the head. Exploring of the town done,
and the hour still sitting somewhere between ungodly and insane we made our way
to the towns information center, where we were greeted by a lovely lady. She
told us all about the town’s history, some fun things to do, and the best
hiking trails. The hiking trails seemed like a really brilliant idea, but first
we would practice. We were young, fit awesome people; a little incline up a
dusty deserted road would pose no threat. So in the middle of nowhere, well in
the middle of the parking lot, which considering our location was the middle of
nowhere, we stripped down and proudly put on our exercise clothes with our
sneakers that looked oddly new. We would wear them out on this vacation. Kevin,
Kate, Carmen and I started off on a lovely midmorning/pre-afternoon sprint,
which five minutes later turned into a jog, and two minutes after that turned
into a fast walked, and thirty seconds after that deciding to give up all
pretenses turned into a comfortable stroll. Although Carmen and Kate did manage
to do a whole lot better and ignoring signs ran into a park without even
paying. Foreigners, you cannot take them anywhere.
Concluding our run we made our way to our very inviting
hotel, where we freshened up and declined the beds offer of a tiny little nap.
We were too grown up for that. The hour was still not quite right to receive
just that perfect amount of light on the mountain, so what else would four
young adults do to occupy themselves? Well, wine tasting of course! Driving
around sampling the magnificent wares of the area, we were quite inebriated with
the wonders we were experiencing all at once. And so impressed by the quality
of these fine wines we opted to buy a bottle of “Red Arse”, a truly-out-of
this-world specimen of wine, which turned into a standing joke for the
vacation.
With the lighting finally playing in our favor we made the
drive up the mountain to see those faces I had long since been dreaming of.
With everything becoming a reality so soon I was not quite sure I could handle
it, but I had come this far, I would just have to go and see it now. The drive
up was magical, with evergreen trees and colourful flowers lining the road on
both sides, and neither giving any glimpse or hint of the mountain it was
hiding. And finally there before us, looming larger than life was the faces of
four very famous men on the side of a mountain. And my first thought? My face
would have looked a whole lot prettier and amplified their handsome just a
little more, but they did a good job.
Seeing Mount Rushmore for the first time, is indescribable.
It is something that is so much a part of American history and the way we as
foreigners view this country, that trying to put even some words to it will
surely just dimmer the magnificence of this wonder. We spent some hours taking
pictures, making sure the world knew we had been there, and the lighting was
perfect. And finally to end off our walk among the fathers of the nation, we
closed off our glorious day in a typical way. Sampling the best ice cream this
world has to offer. Even months later I can still taste that ice cream so
smooth and creamy, sparking bright fireworks in my mouth. And then it was off and goodbye to a place I
had dreamed of for so long. It held up to its expectations.
Now before I conclude, I have been asked, well more like
threatened, to tell you about the part of seeing Mount Rushmore that had made
our trip worthwhile. Not for me that is. But grudgingly I will tell you since
it did end off our time there very well.
Mount Rushmore has an amazing lake at the bottom. With
crystal clear waters and the most superb view all around you. So being the
crazy people we are we decided to go have a dip in the lake. Now if we had
stopped at that, I believe our vacation would have run very smoothly without a
hitch. But no, we did not stop at that. There above the lake stood this really
cool cliff calling out our names and begging us to just jump. Well with Kevin
in the lead I decided it would be worth a try. What could possibly be so hard about
a little jump off a cliff? So I follow shakily behind him, and as we get to the
top I realise I have no idea how to do this. There I am at the top wanting to
climb down and forget this idiotic idea, and Kevin is busy explaining the precise
details of exactly how cliff jumping is done, with the very clear command of, “Remember
don’t look down! Water is as hard as rock when you hit it.” With Kevin getting
lots of practice counting to ten, I finally managed to make the plunge off the
cliff. The drop felt like an eternity, and I am sad to say I never heeded those
very wise words. When landing in the water I had decided that I would try my
own technique, and enter the lake sitting. The lake thought this was definitely
very silly, and so I emerged with instantly red, blue, black and purple butt
and legs. When surfacing, I called out to a very flabbergasted audience that I
was in pain, and with a remark of, “Just put your head in the water and swim!”,
from the ever sympathetic Kevin, I knew that no one would let me live this
down. And so as I emerged and we all oohed and aahed about the damage I had
done, and everyone had got their belly full of laughs, I was picturing the next
ten hours of driving ahead of me. My face, and butt, twisted in pain. And that
bottle of “Red Arse” wine? Well it was used in a very nifty photo op next to my
equally red butt. I knew we should have left that specific bottle off our
shopping list!
Safe travels!
No comments:
Post a Comment