Black Hills

Melissa departed shortly before to set up camp at another site.  I re-stocked on essentials and gave the Land Cruiser another organization after which I began the fairly short north-west drive to the Black Hills of Dakota.  It's amazing how much an environment can change over the course of 100 miles.  Straight into pine forests with solid rock outcroppings and out of the dusty over-large ant hills.  Melissa and I ended up coordinating an adventure into the Crazy Horse exhibit.  We visited the crypt of Korczak, the sculpter who was originally commissioned to carve a mountain.  The entire experience could send shivers down your spine.  Completely privately organized it has been under construction since 1948 and will not be complete for another equivalent interval.  Korczak turned down two offers of 10 million dollars from the Federal Government due to his own beliefs that it disagreed with the purpose behind the sculpture.  He passed in the 80s and his family is still spearheading the efforts.  Looking around the Black Hills for even a moment gave a great insight as to why the area is sacred to the natives. "Nothing lives long, only the earth and the mountains."  The idea that I bore witness to the shaping of a mountain that could potentially stand for as long as the pyramids was a little humbling.  Melissa and I went to a dive bar and got a drink, she headed back to the Badlands and I then cruised by Mount Rushmore.  A ridiculous parking charge prevented me from actually getting to see the full monument.  What're you going to do though?