Long, Strange Trip: We Are Back

After lots of time in territory without internet access, we are now able to post some reports from the last several days. Silas has written out the timeline of events and added his thoughts. Finn has worked with Silas to include his thoughts and Carol and Paul have been too ill to participate at this time. I have added a couple of editor's notes to include any items left out that I thought should be included. I will be posting this information over the next several posts. Here is the least recent report.

Silas’s thoughts continued

7/16

Waking up much earlier than I had hoped, the whole family gathered up the tents and gear and repacked the car ready to be on our way. As we left our campsite we were treated with spectacular visions of the badlands in the early morning light. Before leaving, we spent some more time at the first overlook that we had stopped at on our way into the badlands and all three of the kids with mother in tow began to climb precariously over shaded brown and red rocks. It was interesting to take a different path and get different perspectives at various points, high or low, of the badlands. Soon after, it was time to say goodbye to the Badlands National Park, which had been our home for the day and night. The next stop was Wounded Knee, the sight of a massacre of American Indians by American Soldiers. My father and I were very interested in traveling to the sight as we had read “Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee” a brilliant and compelling book about Native Americans and their trials, defeats and triumphs during early American settling. At the sight we saw the monument, carrying on it many of the names of the fallen that fateful day. I was filled with wonder at the realization that we were standing on the spot where this event had taken place. The sight was in the middle of Pine Ridge Indian Reservation, a rundown, yet bustling area filled with ranches and fields and more mobile homes than regular homes. My heart went out to those living in those conditions and looking out over the spacious lands wondering what could have been had we not forced their land from them all those years ago. We talked with an Indian who told us stories and sold us a hand crafted healing stone. His name was Daniel Bluebird, an energetic and bright young guy and a good story teller as well. Our next stop was Custer State Park in South Dakota, an area known for its buffalo and buffalo we saw. Our stay in the park consisted of lunch and a scenic drive around the park. During our drive we saw what seemed like a herd of Burros, which are very similar to donkeys. We all enjoyed petting the baby Burro and the others while feeding them as much grass as we could get out hands on. Throughout the ride we saw bison, many deer, white tailed and mule deer, as well as bighorn sheep. The day was only halfway done and we drove towards Mt. Rushmore. I was feeling excitement as we neared the historic, storied carving and at my first glimpse on a mountain road far from the base I was instantly impressed almost awe inspired that such a feat could take place. We ended up not having to wait in line at the base as we found a section of highway where you could see the carving. The size was astonishing and we couldn’t take enough pictures but Rushmore is a small fry to what we would witness next. The Crazy Horse Monument is a tribute to a young Indian hero whom I had read much about in “Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee” named, you guessed it, Crazy Horse. It is privately funded with donations, gifts and entry fees. The family project started over fifty years ago. It is not even halfway finished due to repeated rejections of government funding but the family stays strong in their belief that it will not only be completed but how it was intended to be completed. The final project will be larger than the pyramids, Washington Monument and Mt. Rushmore. An impressive feat that was extraordinary to witness. Just gazing at the size of the rock sculpture filled you with amazement. I myself was extra shocked because of my inability to use or understand any of the tools, machines and processes involved in carving these awesome rock sculptures. We camped at Indian Campground in Buffalo, Wyoming. Hands down the worst part of the trip so far as both Carol and Paul were very ill and as I was driving made over four stops along the highway for my mom to vomit large amounts of fluid. At one point this stop incited a cop to pull over to check on the poor, retching lady on all fours at the side of the road. As we pulled into our site at 9pm, my dad, Finn and I set up camp and tended to our ill family members every needs if somewhat grudgingly. All in all it was a spectacular day though.