After having a long night talking with Nick about his goals for the Lakota Action Network last night (www.lakataaction.net), we started our day early to head to the Mammoth Site in Hot Springs, S.D. We stopped in to have a look at the enormous reconstructed mammoth skeleton.
Next, we went to the Crazy Horse monument. The Crazy Horse sculpture still stands unfinished, but its size easily dominates the Mt. Rushmore monument in comparison. All of Mount Rushmore fits inside Crazy Horse’s face. The original sculptor, Korczak, devoted his entire life to carving the monument, often working alone for months. Now his family—which includes his surviving wife and 10 children—continues to carve the mountain after his death. There seems to be mixed feelings about the Crazy Horse monument by the Lakota Nation. In life, Crazy Horse never allowed his photograph to be taken and some people question how he would feel about a 500 foot monument of him on the side of a mountain. Since no photograph exists of Crazy Horse, the monument is not really a direct likeness of Crazy Horse per say. The museum plaque says that this memorial is honoring the spirit of Crazy Horse and his memory instead.
After being in awe by the size of the monument, we left for Sylvan Lake. This was where the trailhead for Harney Peak was located. The lake had a gorgeous icy surface surrounded by big jutting rocks. We climbed Harney Peak, reliving the footsteps of Black Elk’s vision quest on top of this amazing mountain. The view from the peak was inspirational. We could see about 100 miles in any direction with big jagged spires reaching out 360 degrees around us. We could feel that peak had a lot of history; a sense of inspiration and awe came over us as we explored the peak. A few prayer flags still waved from the trees on the peak as the wind whipped through in all directions.
As night began to fall, we returned Sylvan Lake. After we had pitched camp and built a campfire, Dave and Emily heard a winter storm warning which sounded a bit more severe than the 1-3 inches of snow we had heard predicted earlier. At around 6,000 feet, the roads to our campsite were extremely precarious, winding around cliffs so we decided to evacuate while the roads were still clear. Just as we had everything packed in the van, the snow began swirling down, indicating we had decided none too soon. After determining options on where to spend the night, Holy Elk graciously invited us to spend the night in her home. Once again, we had a chance to visit with our friends, Holy Elk and Brisa, her talkative and intelligent six-year-old.
Ryan Reminisces:
A friend and I were eight when her family took us to the Black Hills area. We saw our share of the tourist attractions, including the Presidential Wax Museum. None of the tourist-oriented places left an impression. I remember the early mornings at the base of Harney Peak most fondly. As eight-year-olds with narrow shoulders, we scuttled up about ten feet to find a flat lookout area. We gathered tree bark and pine needles to make a bed. We collected dry, red wood and called it French toast. We created an entire game around the fantasy of being left in the woods, subsisting off the forgotten French toast of campers.
When I returned to the base of Harney Peak with the Carleton Crew, I spotted the cabin where I stayed as an eight-year-old. But I was set on finding the old site of the French toast game. With my eyes closed, I picked out the colors in my mind in to illustrate the landscape in front of me. Had it been summer, the smells of the forest might have triggered my memory further.
Climbing Harney Peak was nothing like I remembered. As a kid, I didn’t understand why anyone would want to hike to get a beautiful view if the surrounding view (without a vista) was just as pleasurable. I understood the hiking mentality when we got to the top of Harney Peak this time. As Chris said, we could see for miles in any direction. I knew to expect the tower at the top, but the winter wind thrilled me. Age 18, I felt full of life.
