Borglum felt that Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln, and Teddy Roosevelt signified the tenets of freedom and democracy. George Washington was chosen for being commander of the Revolutionary army and our first president. Thomas Jefferson, our third president, was remembered for writing the Declaration of Independence. Abraham Lincoln, our sixteenth president, was selected for holding the nation together during the Civil War. Borglum chose our twenty-sixth president, Teddy Roosevelt, for his promotion of conservation, business reform, and the construction of the Panama Canal.
Inside, we watched the video of the men who made the monument. With their jack hammers shaking and vibrating, workers were suspended by ropes in front of the mountain. They knocked off certain areas of rock and left other areas intact.
We learned that Borglum had started carving in 1927 and continued until his death in 1941. He persevered throughout the Great Depression. After his death, his son, Lincoln, put the finishing touches on the monument.
“Washington’s nose alone is 20 feet long,” the tape intoned.
We went outside to see for ourselves.
“Their noses are so big,” Clare said. She touched her nose a couple of times, finding it to be quite a bit smaller than the noses before us.
“Look at their noses, Anne,” Grandma said.
We were all amazed by the noses. From far away they looked huge, but when we took our turns looking through the viewing telescope, the noses were enormous.
“Let me look,” said. I stared at the 60 feet of granite face, 500 feet above the ground, and zeroed in on Lincoln’s nose. I had an instant image of Cary Grant above the presidents in the movie “North By Northwest.” I tried to imagine how they shot that scene. I also imagined being in the scene with him, slipping, and Cary Grant catching me. It wasn’t an unpleasant fall down that nose at all.
“Mom, it’s my turn,” Erin said.
I turned over the viewer to my daughter, bounced out of my reverie.
We had been talking up the fact that there would be a swimming pool at the motel. The night before, the girls hadn’t stopped swimming until bedtime. We knew the pool was outdoors, but that was fine since it was so hot. We got to the motel, checked in, and then looked around for the pool.
We didn’t hear any splashing, gleeful shouts, or any of the other sounds you hear when people are enjoying the water. We were puzzled.
“I’m going to get on my swimming suit right away,” Anne said. “Can I, Dad?”
“Sure, as soon as we find the pool.”
We drove all the way around the parking area, sure we had missed something. And we had. There was a pool there but no one was swimming in it. There wasn’t any water in it!
The motel wasn’t air conditioned so we were in a dilemma. Our choices were to sit outside in the heat until we all passed out, or sit in our rooms and pass out on the beds. We brought the luggage into our rooms. Within five minutes, perspiration beaded on our foreheads and noses.
“I wish I could swim,” Anne said. She paced around the room.
“It’s hot everywhere,” Clare said.
“We can’t stay here, that’s for sure,” Paul said.
We decided to look for an air conditioned restaurant and take our time with the meal. We found a McDonald’s that was both air conditioned and had a play area. It was perfect. Hamburgers and french fries disappeared quickly.
“Can we go play?” Anne asked.
“Can we?”
“Can we?”
“Sure, go ahead.” I said.
Paul, Grandma, and I enjoyed the cool air, the french fries, and the quiet. We talked about what we would do the next day. There were so many parks and activities for families that we had trouble deciding what to do.
We told the girls they could have an ice cream cone before we left McDonald’s.
“Thank you, Mom and Dad,” Anne said.
“You’re the best mom and dad,” Clare said.
“Thank you,” Erin said as she licked her ice cream.
My pride-filled heart needed a bigger rib cage to expand in. What was the big deal about traveling with kids? It wasn’t hard at all. It was a piece of cake!
By the time we got back to the motel, the temperature had cooled. We were all so tired we went to sleep without a problem.
The next morning we drove to a free dinosaur park. The giant heads were visible far in the distance. As soon as the van pulled into a parking place and stopped, the girls raced toward the park.
“Look. There they are,” the three girls said in one voice.
The dinosaurs were life-sized reproductions which made them all the more awe-inspiring. The girls ran to each of the five dinosaurs, stood there, and gawked. They perched together on the massive frill of Triceratops. As we stood next to Tyrannosaurus Rex and Brontosaurus, I thanked God that the Age of Dinosaurs was over.
“Look at those teeth,” Clare said, pointing to Tyrannosaurus Rex.
“They’re six inches long,” Paul said.
“Would they chase us?”
“Of course, Clare, and they’d eat us too,” Anne said.
Erin moved right next to me. I put my arm around her while I imagined being chased down the streets of St. Paul by those six-inch long, smirking teeth.
Our next stop was Storybook Island. It was also free to the public. All the little scenes were from children’s books and rhymes. The whole place had an almost magical feel to it.
One of the things we liked to do at home was act out stories from books. Each girl took a different part. They had lines to remember while Paul or I were the narrators. One of their favorites was The Three Billy Goats Gruff.
Anne saw the bridge with the troll underneath first.
“Try to get me, troll,” Anne said as she skipped across the bridge. The Billy Goats Gruff were on the other side.
Clare stopped in the middle of the bridge and looked into the troll’s eyes. She was ready if he tried to get her.
Clare was the only one who loved to be the troll when we acted out the story.
Erin hesitated. I was just going to tell Erin I would go across with her when her sisters called to her.
“Erin, c’mon,” Clare said. “We’ll wait for you.”
“Yeah, hurry up,” Anne said.
“Isn’t that nice the way they look out for each other?” I asked Paul and Grandma.
“They’ve been very good,” Grandma said. “Of course, there’s plenty for them to see and do.”
“It’s been much better than I thought it would be,” Paul said.
“I’d take them anywhere,” I said.
The three girls skipped and laughed as they went from story to story. After a while, they came over to tell us they were done.
Anne said, “Thank you, Mom and Dad.”
“You’re welcome,” I replied. My heart swelled again.
“Thank you, Mom and Dad,” Clare said.
“Thank you, Mom and Dad,” Erin echoed.
My heart was positively bursting with love for my offspring.
Memories are more unique if they are flavored with variety. I would soon find that our trip would be unforgettable for more reasons than our children bounding with joyfulness.
We had seen signs along the road for a bear park. I had no idea what it was, but I thought it might be interesting for the girls. We decided to drive through after everyone but Anne said they wanted to see bears. Before we knew it, the gate had closed behind us and there was no retreating.
Following a small sports car in front of us, we drove around, peering out the window, looking for bears.
“Look, girls,” Paul said, pointing at Rocky Mountain Goats in the distance.
“Aren’t they neat?” Grandma said. The goats were so sure-footed on the crags and ledges that they could dash along the uneven rock as if it were a highway.
“They’re beautiful,” I said.
“How do they run like that?” Anne asked.
“Yeah, how do they run so fast?�
� Clare asked.
“They hop,” Erin said.
“Hop, hop.” Erin moved her right fingers up and down in her left hand.
We continued to search for bears. To Anne’s delight, they proved to be elusive. That is, until we turned the last corner. There were black bears everywhere. They seemed to be intrigued by the cars, especially the little two-seat car we were following. The bears crawled over the hood, the roof, and the trunk of the car. We stopped.
“Don’t stop,” Anne said.
“We have to,” Paul said.
Anne started biting her nails. “What if they try to crawl on us?”
“They can’t. The van is too high,” I said. To tell the truth, I was getting pretty nervous myself. I hoped the bears weren’t interested in us. I wasn’t finding them anywhere near as cute as I thought I would. And they certainly weren’t cuddly. Their long, sharp claws were poised, ready for anything.
“I don’t like bears,” Anne said.
“Me too, Anne,” Grandma said.
“When can we leave?”
“After the other cars leave, we can go,”Paul said.
“Do you think they’re scratching that guy’s car?” I asked.
“I don’t know. It sure looks like it.”
The man and the woman in the sports car were having an animated conversation. I figured it was about whose idea it was to drive through the bear park. The sports car inched forward so it wouldn’t run over the bears and finally, it was free. The car raced out of the gate, leaving black tire marks on the pavement.
We were next. Paul wasn’t taking any chances that the bears would find our van fascinating. He gunned the motor before they could even look us over. We peeled out of there and onto the highway.
“Let’s not go back there,” Anne said.
“We won’t.” We all agreed.
As we drove along, we saw a sign stating we were going towards the Needles Highway.
The road narrowed to one lane. I looked at the stone tunnel ahead of us. There was no way the van could fit through.
“We aren’t going to make it. The van is too wide,”I said.
“We’ll fit. You’ll see,” Paul said as he drove towards the tunnel.
I was glad the tunnel wasn’t longer than it was because I was afraid a car would come through from the other direction. After we made it through the tunnel, I exclaimed over the astonishing vistas and views in Custer National Park.
The tall granite spires rose in sharp points towards the sky. One spire called Cathedral Spire was a favorite of mountain climbers.
“Look, there’s a hole in the rock,” Anne said. She pointed out the window.
“Cool,” Clare said.
“It really is cool,” I said. The hole in the rock was a natural formation that caused an elongated opening. It looked exactly like an eye of a gigantic needle. “It wouldn’t be hard to thread that needle,” I said.
“I love that,” Grandma said.
The whole flavor of the West was strong as we drove through South Dakota. Along the side of the road ran the ruts from the covered wagons a century before. A hundred years of rain and snow had not erased them. I thought of the people trekking to Oregon so many years before us. How many of them had better lives if and when they reached their destination?
The girls were intrigued most of all by the wildness of the West. They liked the stories of the outlaws and people carrying guns.
We drove to Deadwood, South Dakota to see where Wild Bill Hickock was killed. We walked into Old Style No.10 Saloon.
“Girls, they say this is where Wild Bill Hickock was shot,” I said.
“Who was that?” Anne asked.
“A famous lawman of the wild west.”
“Were there outlaws too?” Clare asked.
“Lots of them. It really was wild.”
“Who else hung around here?” Anne asked.
“I know Calamity Jane did,” I said.
We continued to walk towards the back where the poker tables were. I reached down to take Erin’s hand. Erin had stayed right next to me in the murkiness of the saloon. A group of people stood around a table where two black eights and two black aces lay face up. Other cards were scattered around.
“This is called the Dead Man’s Hand in poker,” Paul said.
“Why?” Anne asked.
“Because that’s what he was holding when he was shot.”
“Cool,” Anne and Clare both said.
I thought that was a peculiar response to someone being shot, but I didn’t ask for an explanation. Mothers don’t need to know everything.
We stayed in Lead, South Dakota, for the night in a quiet two-floor motel.
I wished we could have stayed in the Black Hills area longer. We didn’t even begin to experience it. There were hot springs, caves, and other parks, as well as many places to hike. We needed a full week, but we had made reservations in Yellowstone and the Grand Tetons months before.
We left the Black Hills at eight the next morning, vowing to return soon.
“Goodbye, Black Hills,” Clare said.
“Goodbye,” Erin said.
We crossed over the border into northeastern Wyoming and followed the signs saying, “Devil’s Tower.”
The lone stone tower came straight up out of the ground with its clawed out sides and flat mesa top. As with Cathedral Spire, Devil’s Tower was a favorite of mountain climbers. I told the girls it was a challenging climb even for experienced mountain climbers. Through the video camera, we zoomed in, looking for climbers in the distance. I wondered how anyone could climb it and then rappel down the sides.
We read that Devil’s Tower was thought to be the core of a volcano. Millions of years of erosion exposed the tower to rise more than 1200 feet. In 1906, Teddy Roosevelt dedicated Devil’s Tower as the first national monument.
We stayed the night in Sheridan, Wyoming. This time the pool was filled with heated water. It was also indoors, so the girls swam happily until bedtime.
After pajamas were on, I asked the girls what their favorite part of the trip was so far.
“Storybook Island,” Erin said excitedly. “And the dinosaurs.”
“I thought you were scared of Tyrannosaurus?” Anne asked.
“I was but I still liked them.”
“Well, I liked the Ingalls house and the schoolhouse,” Anne said.
“What about you, Mom?” I asked Grandma.
“It’s hard to pick one thing but I loved that eye of the needle,” Grandma said.
“I can’t decide either. I liked all of the Black Hills,” I said.
“I liked Mount Rushmore,” Paul said.
“Me too.”
Clare had been strangely quiet throughout the exchange.
“What about you, Clare?” Grandma asked.
“I liked Devil’s Tower,” she said with a glint in her eye. “But I really liked the bears best of all.” She smirked at Anne and stuck out her tongue.
Three
Sisterly Love
Nothing takes more patience than riding in a car with children.
We began the fifth day of our trip excited to see Yellowstone National Park. We planned on arriving in Yellowstone by mid afternoon.
We had replaced our shorts the previous day with jeans and sweaters. We got out our jackets and put them in the back of the van. The temperature was in the mid-thirties, a change of 60 degrees from two days before.
We started to drive through the Bighorn Mountains. I declared each turn to be the most beautiful and then the next curve brought even more splendor. The pristine lakes and the forests against the backdrop of the mountains were awe-inspiring. We stopped to let the girls play in the snow and to gaze at some of the breathtaking scenery. I couldn’t get enough of the loveliness surrounding us.
It was slow going around the bends and twists of the road. Earlier, we had discussed going into Montana to see where the Battle of the Little Bighorn took place. As the hours went by, I was glad we hadn’
t tried to fit that in.
Paul handed the keys to me after seven hours of driving. “I can’t drive anymore,” he said. “My eyes are so tired they hurt.”
“I don’t mind driving.”
We pulled the van over and switched places. I adjusted mirrors, seat, and the steering wheel. I was set. We were a scant 20 miles from the entrance to Yellowstone.
It was four-thirty in the afternoon. The girls were getting restless. It became impossible for them to sit still. As their bodies wiggled and wriggled, the release of energy came from their vocal cords.
“Would you make them be quiet?” I implored. “I can’t drive like this.”
“I’m trying,” Paul said.
We passed the Eastern entrance to the Park. We were making our way to the Old Faithful Inn, where we planned to spend two nights. The man at the gate said it would be no more than a half hour. We were all relieved the end was in sight. I told the girls it would be 45 minutes at the most.
The two lane highway was narrow and the traffic was heavy. Many large campers, RVs, and buses were coming towards us. There was barely enough room for our van to pass. I felt I had to inch up against the mountain or I’d collide with an RV. As the mountainside swept by the window, I heard a sharp intake of air from my husband. I didn’t dare even glance at him; my focus was on the serpentine road ahead of me.
“She’s looking at me,” Clare shouted.
“No, I’m not. I wouldn’t waste my time, Clare,” Anne shouted even louder.
“Make her stop,” Clare yelled.
The van vibrated with the commotion.
“Mom, are we there?” Erin’s high-pitched voice cut through the noise. It always did. It was a mixture of chalk rasping on a blackboard and brakes screeching on the street.
“Mom is trying to drive,” Grandma whispered in a voice louder than her normal talking. “Stop it.”
Tenacious Clare was not about to give up. “She better stop looking at me,” Clare said with her fist raised toward Anne.
“Please get in the back with them,” I said to Paul. “Please.”
Warning!: Family Vacations May Be Hazardous to Your Health Page 2