Day 6: Wind Cave National Park

Today we explore Wind Cave.

The Lakota Indians told ancient stories about a sacred hole in the ground that blew air in an out, like the lungs of some living creature. But the first recorded discovery of Wind Cave wasn't until 1881 by Tom and Jesse Bingham. The story goes that one of the brothers stuck his head in the hole, and it blew his hat off. When he came back later to show his friends, the wind had reversed direction and sucked his hat in.

There's a simple meteorological explanation for the "breath" of Wind Cave. If the barometric pressure outside the cave is high, air gets sucked in. If it is lower, air is blown out. The velocity of the wind gives testament to the enormous volume of empty cave space that lies beneath the surface. By one estimate, the surveyed portion of the cave accounts for just 2% of the airflow. That means 98% of the cave is yet to be discovered.

Right now, it ranks as the fifth largest cave system in the world. I presume it will move up in the standings as more surveying trips are made.

If Wind Cave contained only the typical cave formations, it would be interesting but probably not worthy of becoming our nation's seventh National Park. Fortunately, Wind Cave has one key variable that makes it unique. It's dry. There's not a lot of seepage. The air is not very humid. There are no bats. There are no insects or worms either. With the exception of extremophiles (microbial organisms which live in extreme conditions), its ecosystem is barren.

Wind Cave is distinctive because it contains formations called "boxwork".

Boxwork is hard for me to describe. It looks a little like burnt potato chips hanging in complex interwoven sheets from the ceiling and walls. It's as delicate as it looks. Wind Cave is one of the few places on earth where boxwork exists. Some estimates say that 95 percent of the world's boxwork is contained inside Wind Cave.

How was boxwork formed? One theory says that millions of years ago, Wind Cave was a solid mass of bedrock. The bedrock fractured for some reason, and the cracks got filled in with calcite (probably by a water-deposit process). Then a layer of limestone formed on the surface above. Limestone and water produce a weak acid: calcium carbonate. So, as water leeched down through this new layer, it became slightly acidic. Over a long, long time, the water inundated the area, stagnated, and slowly ate away the bedrock. The calcite remained intact. Thus boxwork is what was left behind after the water drained away.

Ma and I took the "Garden of Eden" tour. The "Garden of Eden" is a large room with excellent acoustics deep inside the cave. The tour starts in an elevator. At the bottom, you exit a pressure-sealed lobby. You emerge into a strange world that is perpetually 53 degrees and pitch black. Thankfully, they've installed lights to lead the way for tourists.

Part of the Garden of Eden tour includes a segment where the ranger turns off the lights, and everyone gets to experience the cave in its natural state. On our tour, the ranger was unable to get the lights to turn off. So, we moved on. Moments later, as we were ascending a staircase, the lights decided to heed her earlier attempt. The whole place went utterly dark. Ma and I were prepared. We happened to be carrying our head lamps with us. Between the ranger's flashlight, our head lamps, and several cell phone screens, we made it safely back to the elevator. What an interesting experience!

Fun fact: even in the depths of the cave, you're still at quite a high elevation. The Garden of Eden is 3,940 feet above sea level.

Here's another example of boxwork. This "pod" was corrugated like cardboard.

The calcite deposits shown above are known as "frostwork". The moist air of a cave contains tiny particles of calcium carbonate. As the moist air hits a cool surface, the calcium carbonate coagulates and forms a crystal. If you shine a light on frostwork just right, it sparkles like diamonds. Wind Cave has a few moist areas where frostwork has formed.

Speaking of moisture, this formation is called "flowstone". (I would have named it "gravy-stone".) Flowstone forms when seepage creeps down a slightly inclined shelf like this one. The seepage contains dissolved minerals. The water is only capable of holding those minerals whilst it contains carbon dioxide. When the water hits the open air, it loses its carbon dioxide, and the minerals slowly get deposited. Layer upon layer builds up and causes the shelf to get coated with calcium, gypsum, and other minerals.

Don't touch! Oils from our skin would cause the water to avoid the areas where we made contact. The flowstone would cease to form.

Flowstone and frostwork are common in other caves. But Wind Cave exhibits very few other typical cave formations. For example, there's a noticeable dearth of stalactites and stalagmites. (These are the fang-like spikes that riddle most caves.)

Fun tip: There's an easy way to remember the difference between stalactites and stalagmites. Stalactites come from the ceiling. Stalagmites come from the ground.

The Bingham brothers may have been the ones to discover the cave, but they didn't do much exploring. Sixteen-year-old Alvin McDonald gets the credit for mapping out the majority of the early cave. From 1889 to 1893 he spent almost every day here. With just a candle lantern and a ball of string he explored hundreds of passages, recording everything he found. Alvin was the son of a miner who was hired to extract riches from the cave. Alas, mining proved futile. There's no gold or gems down there. So, they switched enterprises and turned it into a tourist attraction. Alvin served as a guide. Since conservation was unheard of in those days, visitors were encouraged to leave their mark on the cave. The message shown above was left on August 17, 1892.

Needles Highway

Traveler's Tip: The best map of the Black Hills area is on the back of the Custer State Park visitor's guide.

We opted to try another of the park's scenic byways. This one is called the "Needles Highway".

"Highway" is tongue-in-cheek. It's far from being a speedy route through these parts. Much like Iron Mountain Road, it was rich with twisty slopes and narrow passages.

We had to be on constant alert for wildlife. They were everywhere! These two whitetail deer were hanging out on the other side of a one-lane tunnel. We saw many other species, too. Pronghorns and prairie dogs were common in flat areas. Chipmunks were ubiquitous. We were looking forward to joining a "wildlife caravan" led by a park naturalist this evening.

Sadly, Mother Nature intervened. A severe thunderstorm struck just as we were reaching the summit. There was a lot of rain and wind plus a little hail. The temperature dropped sharply. Ma was worried a tree would crush us, but I was more worried about the torrent of water rushing down the hill. We found relative safety in one of the many pullouts along the road.

Eventually the storm passed. In its wake, we noticed the incredible amount of gravel that the downpour left behind. You can even see it at the bottom of this photo.

The reason this is called the "Needles Highway" is the tall thin spires of granite carved out by wind, rain, and mostly ice. The ones shown here were just a small sample of the vast skyline called "needles". The most impressive section is called the "Cathedral Spires".

Because of its vantage point above the valley, this area of the park displayed the devastation caused by the mountain pine beetle. It's a small bug, about the size of a grain of rice. But it can do enormous damage to a pine forest. The beetles lay their eggs under the tree's bark. They introduce a fungus which affects the tree's ability to transport water and nutrients. Meanwhile, the larvae feed on the tree. By the time the larvae mature and fly away, the tree is dead. Over the next year, its needles will turn reddish and drop off, leaving just the branches and trunk behind. Then the wood begins to rot and turns gray. You can see the progression of the infestation by looking at the swathes of color on the sides of a hill: green, red, brown, gray.

Crowded forests are especially susceptible. Too many trees compete for the same sun, rain, and nutrients. Overpopulation is common when natural fires are extinguished before they can spread. Custer State Park is using prescribed fires and logging to control the beetle. If they can let just a few trees grow to maturity, they'll be strong enough to survive the beetle threat.

The culmination of the Needles Highway is the "Needles Eye". This is not a man-made rock formation. Long ago, erosion produced a small opening in the rock. Over time, it lengthened and widened to into an "eye".

It was getting late. We decided to forgo the wildlife caravan tonight. The sky was still threatening rain, and a deluge of water was still making its way down the mountain.

Rain and gravity are an amazing combination. Even much later, in downtown Custer, we had to turn back at several intersections because the gutters had turned into rushing rivers. The inhabitants were clearly accustomed to this. They immediately had crews cleaning the gravel off the streets.

End Day 5.

Sylvan Lake

We stopped at Sylvan Lake. It is considered the "crown jewel" of the three man-made lakes inside the park. It offers boating, fishing, swimming and hiking.

We decided to hike around Sylvan Lake. The guidebooks and the park's visitor's guide rated the trail as an "easy one mile loop". That's usually our first mistake: listening to the guidebooks.

About a third of the way around the lake, we came to an impasse. The trail curled to the right, in front of the giant rock feature (see above). But then it just sort of ended. It looked as though the trail led right into the lake itself. What the heck? We backtracked a little and found an offshoot trail through a narrow canyon. It appeared to continue behind the rock. Little did we know that this trail would lead us up on top of it.

Poor Ma.
We weren't expecting to do any rock climbing on this hike. It was a far cry from "easy", but Ma was such a trooper.

Yay!! We made it to the other side!!

I suspect that there had once been a trail around the shoreline, but the water level was too high and covered it. At least I keep telling myself that. The guidebook couldn't seriously classify what we hiked as "easy".

Day 5: Custer State Park

Our plan for Day 5 was to visit Custer State Park.

Custer State Park was established in 1912 as a forest and game preserve. It's forests have been somewhat reduced by fire, logging, and the mountain pine beetle. And hunting and fishing keep the animal population in check. But, all in all, it is still a beautiful forest full of wildlife.

We enjoyed it so much that we came back on Days 6 and 7 just to see if we couldn't catch a glimpse of something new.

On Wednesday mornings, the park offers free canoeing. We paddled around the shores of Center Lake.

There are many scenic byways in the park. This one happens to be the Iron Mountain Road on the eastern edge of the park. Scenic byways are punctuated by hairpin turns, cliff-hugging pavement, narrow bridges, and steep inclines. This particular road also boasts three one-lane tunnels.

I almost had to sedate Ma. She doesn't react well to such roads. I love them.

The tunnels on this road are unique because they frame Mount Rushmore on the other side.

Speaking of Mount Rushmore, once we'd gotten to the end of the scenic byway, we needed to go back to the hotel to grab something we'd forgotten. Our trip took us past Mount Rushmore. To our utter surprise, just past the parking area, we saw this mountain goat nanny and her two kids just casually eating along the roadside. Needless to say, they stopped traffic.

Fun fact: Mountain goats are not native to western South Dakota. The Canadian government donated six goats to Custer State Park in 1924. Estimates now say some 200 mountain goats live in the Black Hills.

Feeling patriotic

Crazy Horse was not far from our hotel (Bavarian Inn in Custer, SD...I highly recommend), so we stopped there for dinner. Afterward, we headed back to Mount Rushmore for the evening program.

At Mount Rushmore, they really emphasize America. They want you to feel patriotic. As part of the evening program, they show an inspirational film about how the monument was constructed and why they chose the faces they did. The lighting of the sculpture felt almost anti-climactic.

It took a long time to get out of the parking lot. Oh well, it was still a good end to Day 4.

Crazy Horse

Today's next stop was Crazy Horse Mountain, just 17 miles from Mount Rushmore.

Locals refer to it as the "fifth face". It is a gigantic work-in-progress sculpture of a famous Lakota chief named Crazy Horse. To date, only the face is finished.

The carving began in 1948 by a man named Korczak Ziolkowski (pronounced CORE-shack jewel-CUFF-ski). He was a penniless, self-taught sculptor from Boston. Lakota Chief Standing Bear, after seeing the success of Mount Rushmore, invited Korczak to the Black Hills to undertake an enormous carving project. Standing Bear told him, "My fellow chiefs and I would like the white man to know the red man has great heroes, also." Korczak knew that the monument would never be finished during his lifetime. And he knew money would be a constant challenge. He began it anyway. His widow and seven of their ten children continue to work in his footsteps.

The project is currently managed by a private memorial foundation. I emphasize "private". Every dollar of the cost is paid for with private donations and admission fees. The directors are absolutely adamant about that. They have twice turned down federal funding. It's not clear why. Perhaps it is to ensure absolute freedom to do as they please. Or maybe they oppose making taxpayers shoulder any of the financial burden. Or maybe they just want to thumb their noses at the white man's government. Possibly all three.

The welcome center houses a lot of Indian art, some for sale and some for posterity. As you might expect for a tourist trap, it varies greatly in both quality and price.

But the real attraction is the sculpture itself.

The carving depicts Crazy Horse pointing to his ancestral land.
A white man asked Crazy Horse, "Where are your lands now?"
Crazy Horse replied, "My lands are where my dead lie buried."

His face is fairly obvious. And the horse has been sketched on the stone. But can you see his finger above the horse's neck?

The entire statue is being carved in the round, 563 feet high and 641 feet long.
Do you see the dot that represents the horse's eye? That's sixteen feet across.
The head is 87.5 feet high. His arm is nearly as long as a football field.

When it is completed, it will be the largest sculpture in the world.

Here's a representation of what Crazy Horse will look like once he's finished.

Not according to plan

The idea of Mount Rushmore began in 1923. Doane (rhymes with "bone") Robinson, state historian of South Dakota, wanted to promote tourism in the Black Hills. He floated the idea to Gutzon Borglum. Borglum was unexpectedly available owing to his untimely departure from the Stone Mountain project he'd begun in Georgia. He jumped at the chance to produce a monument dedicated to the history of the United States (and possibly just to have a job). By 1925, they had secured federal funding for the project.

Why here? Three reasons. First, this mountain is composed of fine-grain granite. Second, it towers above much of its surroundings. Third, this cliff faces southeast. It's the best light for viewing and photography. (Yes, that was a big consideration, even in the 1920s.)

Carving commenced on October 4, 1927. Fourteen years and countless funding challenges later, it was officially finished on October 31, 1941. The project cost just under $1 million and employed about 400 workers. Remarkably, none died while working on the project.

What you see on Mount Rushmore today is only a small portion of what its sculptor originally envisioned. Gutzon Borglum wanted to carve the presidents' whole torsos (head to waist, as shown in this model in the "Sculptor's Studio"). He also wanted a feature called "The Entablature", an enormous tablet engraved beside the carvings of the four presidents. It would tell the story of the first 150 years of U.S. history. President Coolidge was originally given the honor of writing the essay. But then he died in 1933. So, the next year they held a public contest. Thousands of people submitted essays. Alas, the Entablature had to be scrapped when Jefferson had to be moved to Washington's other side, and they needed room for Lincoln.

When his dream of the Entablature was dashed, Gutzon Borglum developed a new plan. He would build a "Hall of Records" behind the sculpted heads. The 80 by 100 foot chamber would display the winning history essay, plus hold any other important documents and artifacts the government wanted to preserve there. The room would be reached via an 800-foot granite staircase. Regrettably, the new plan, too, had to be abandoned. They had only managed to blast out a 70-foot tunnel when, in 1939, Congress directed all efforts toward finishing the faces. In 1998, a small vault was laid inside the tunnel. The winning essay, as well as a few other engravings and documents, were sealed inside for eternity.

The faces could conceivably outlast the human race. The granite will only erode a tenth of an inch in a thousand years. (By comparison, the Sharps layer of the Badlands erodes 10,000 times faster, at the rate of one inch per year). Still, there's some maintenance to be done. For example, any crack is subject to frost-wedging, so it gets sealed with silicone caulk. The faces are also infrequently pressure-washed to remove lichens.

The four faces stare back through the window to the left of the model in the Sculptor's Studio. See Washington's face on the far right?

The heads on the mountain are about 60 feet tall.

Outside the park, there's a pulloff where you can see Washington's head protruding from the mountain.