We arrived at Petermann Island early in the morning, and while the kayak guides still didn’t feel the ocean conditions were right for our first paddle of the trip, we were relieved to hear that excursions were going forward otherwise. We suited up in our waterproof pants and regulation yellow parkas and joined our zodiac group to explore Petermann Island. Our group was cruising first and landing second, and we couldn’t have been more excited – especially when our zodiac guide, Nicole, said as we boarded the small boat: “Who wants to go see some whales?” There was a rousing cheer, and she said, “Good, because I was taking you over there whether you wanted to see whales or not!” We all laughed.
A few other zodiacs were already in the water, floating quietly while a group of humpback whales surfaced and dove for their all-you-can-eat krill banquet.
The whales were busily eating, but they took a moment to wave to us.
I couldn’t get enough of the spectacular iceberg backdrop, either.
I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves for a minute, shall I?
A spout!
A fluke!
Dorsals!
Pictures hardly do these creatures justice: it’s impossible to capture in an image – and nearly impossible to convey in words – how massive and majestic they are. My friends and coworkers love to joke about my whale obsession (I recently painted my kitchen cabinets “whale grey” based entirely on the color name… to quote a work friend, “Because OF COURSE you did.”) but to see them is to love them. I fell in love with these magical beings at six years old and they’ve had my heart and imagination ever since.
After we’d watched the whales feeding for awhile, Nicole decided we should probably cruise around and see some more of the island. We bid the whales a reluctant goodbye and started to look at the scenery – but just as we were about to leave, Nicole said: “Oh, I see a little rostrum poking out over there.” The whales were spyhopping! Clearly, we couldn’t leave.
Whale, hello there!
I’m whaley glad to see you too!
It’s krill nice to meet you! (I’ll show myself out.)
I had intended to do one post about Petermann Island, but as I uploaded my pictures – only the best ones, mind – I realized there were too many. So we’ll save the penguins and seals for another post, and really do them justice. I know that none of you was mad about more whales.
Next week: still exploring Petermann Island – some synchronized diving, a very rude Adelie, a very chonky Weddell seal, and more!
Our second day in Antarctica brought an exciting milestone – at just after 7:00 a.m., our ship crossed the Antarctic Circle, 66 degrees 33 minutes South. This latitude is farther south than most Antarctic tourist expeditions go, and for many of our fellow travelers it was the highlight of our trip. Our voyage was called “Crossing the Circle: Southern Expedition,” and the marquee moment of the itinerary was crossing the Circle, as you can imagine from the name. A sizeable minority of our fellow passengers had booked this particular expedition – as opposed to one of the other itineraries – for this particular reason. We didn’t – we booked it because it was the time of year we wanted to visit Antarctica (whale migration season) and a good duration with six days on the Continent. Crossing the Antarctic Circle was not our main goal, but it was a very cool achievement.
Happy explorers, waving from further south than 99% of other Antarctic travelers will ever go! As our expedition leader announced that we’d crossed the Circle officially, a loud cheer went up and we all toasted with our hot cocoa. (Since it was so early in the day… that evening we’d have a proper toast with champagne.)
Two humpback whales escorted us across the Circle, but they were too far from the ship for me to get a good picture of them. The icebergs that far south were absolutely massive, though.
Even with the exciting event of crossing the Antarctic Circle, the day started to take a bit of a downhill turn – thanks to the weather. Our afternoon landing the previous day had already been scrubbed, and the expedition staff made the hard decision to cancel both outings on the second day as well. Having lost three outings in a row, the mood on the ship started to become decidedly salty. I was up in the observation lounge on the seventh deck when the announcement came through that the afternoon expedition was cancelled, and ominous rumblings started to circle the lounge – even from people who’d been quite sanguine about the weather the day before. As my fellow passengers grumbled, I looked out over the water and suddenly saw a spout. I jumped up and headed onto the upper deck, and a few people trickled out behind me. Moments later, a curious humpback whale surfaced near the ship, followed by another – and another – and another…
As word circulated that there were whales in the neighborhood, passengers and expedition staff alike started streaming out of every door onto the deck, phones and cameras ready.
There were five or six whales – I lost count; there could have been more, even. They swam around the ship for over an hour – spouting, diving, fluking and spyhopping.
The captain kept the ship carefully stationary, turning it occasionally to allow people on the port side to catch a glimpse of the whales (who had appeared to starboard and seemed happy to stay there).
I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves…
Some of the whales came so close to the ship that we could practically see down their blowholes and count the bumps on their rostrums.
Spout action!
I was giddy. People come to Antarctica with all kinds of wildlife hopes – some want to see penguins, others seals – for me, it was all about the whales. We chose to travel in February, as I’ve mentioned, to coincide with the humpback whale migration season. While I would have loved to see minkes and orcas, and I had a pipe dream of seeing a southern right whale, I was really there for the humpbacks.
I joked to Steve (who had rushed up to the seventh deck to watch the show with me) that our expedition leader owed the whales a big tip – they completely turned the mood of the ship around. All of the grumbling about cancelled landings stopped, and the chatter all evening was whales, whales, and more whales.
It felt like the whales brought a turning point for the whole trip, actually – not just the mood. After their appearance, the weather cleared up and became glorious, and stayed glorious for the rest of the trip; we didn’t miss a single adventure after their visit. The sun shone and the ocean behaved and Antarctica put on its best face for us. Almost like the whales had given us their blessing.
An incredible day and a memory that will last a lifetime.
Next week: headed to Petermann Island – more whales! And more penguins! And a very fat seal!
After our morning cruise through the Lemaire Channel, everyone on the ship was anxious to get our muck boots onto the ice. I think the expedition crew was, too, because they wasted no time at all in getting our anchor dropped and the zodiacs in the water at Port Charcot.
I was beyond giddy at the prospect of seeing my first penguin colony!
The island we were exploring was home to a good-sized colony of gentoo penguins. I learned a few things right away: first, you can smell a penguin colony before you see it. It’s an unmistakable odor (the word aroma is really too pleasant). Good thing they’re so darn cute!
Second, I learned that penguins are obsessive remodelers. The nest is never finished!
For instance, I watched this guy (or gal – you can’t tell) going back and forth with rocks to add to the nest, over and over and over and… over.
Ready for my close-up!
Penguins often establish their routes from the colony to the beach and back and continue to travel the same exact paths, wearing deep divots known as “penguin highways” into the ice. There weren’t really any of these highways on our first island visited, although we’d see some examples at future landings. Here, the penguins just waddled around a long expanse of snow, ice and slush.
If you’re wondering about the colors – no, it’s not dirty snow, and my camera wasn’t malfunctioning. The green and red colors in the ice are from snow algae. Early in the season, there’s almost none to be spotted, but by February – late summer, when we visited – the nutrients provided by penguin droppings over several months of trekking back and forth to the colonies, and the slightly warmer temperatures, result in weirdly colorful snow. Who knew?!
It’s even in the layers of ice cliffs!
Penguins weren’t the only critters at Port Charcot! We stopped and watched these Antarctic fur seals for awhile. They couldn’t have cared less about our presence.
Well – maybe this one did. He seemed to view us – and our cameras – as a good opportunity for striking a pose. Show-off.
Meanwhile, out in the harbor – another humpback! This whale attracted a big group of fans on shore, cameras and mittens pointed excitedly as it fluked and dove.
But back to the penguins, who were the undisputed stars of the landing. I found another small group of penguins nesting on their own rocky outcropping, a little ways from the main colony. And these had – chicks!
I wasn’t expecting to see baby penguins – they’re usually spotted in December and January; February, when we traveled, is whale season, not penguin chick season. But the ornithologist on board our ship explained that this had been a strange nesting season: instead of all of the penguin eggs hatching within two or three days of each other, as is common, eggs were hatching at all different times for months. The result was that we got to see young penguins of all ages – from very new babies to roly-poly juveniles. Fun for us, but alarming for the penguins: the really young chicks we were seeing would probably not be molted in time to join their parents in the water at the end of the season, and would be abandoned and die before reaching adulthood. (Nature is brutal, fam.) That was a sobering thought – but they were still adorable. I was in love with the chick above (and really hope it’s old enough to make it through the Antarctic winter!). I stood for probably twenty minutes snapping picture after picture of this cuteness. SO FLUFFY.
As I clicked away, I started to see the adults exhibiting some different behavior: first one, then two penguins turned their beaks to the air and started honking loudly. Soon all of the adults were doing it. Weird, I thought – and then I saw.
A skua! Antarctic skua gulls will predate penguin eggs and chicks. This one clearly had its eye on one of the several fluffy grey balls of feathers in the rocky nests.
Oh no, you don’t! I watched with my heart in my throat as the skua got lower and lower – and closer and closer to those darling fluffy babies. Way too close for comfort.
Luckily for the penguins (and for me; I didn’t really want to see a predation event) a gust of wind came up just at the right time and blew the skua sideways and away from the nests.
What a relief!
It felt like no time had passed at all before the expedition guides were calling to us to make our way back to the zodiacs.
International law prohibits Antarctic tour operators from landing more than 100 people on the continent at once. That’s why you generally don’t see 3,000-guest behemoth cruises in Antarctica (although they’re starting to get more common, unfortunately): no one would get any meaningful amount of time on shore. Reputable Antarctic tour companies generally don’t run ships with more than 200 guests on board; our ship had the capacity for 188 guests but was a little under-sold this time, with just over 160 of us. Even so, we had to divide into two groups for shore landings: one group would land immediately and explore while the other group went “zodiac cruising” and then the groups would switch. Zodiac cruising is fun and fascinating in itself, so it’s definitely not the short end of the stick. Although we were sorry to leave the penguins and the seals behind, we were excited about our first zodiac cruise.
Our guide, Kim, promised some really spectacular icebergs – and she delivered.
Gorgeous! And those colors – incredible! I couldn’t get enough of the spectacular ice formations and infinite shades of blue.
However, the combination of wind and waves on this particular day meant that it was a bit of a wild ride – and it turned out I was sitting in “the wet seat.” At the bow of the zodiac, on the starboard side, is apparently where all of the water hits – and I mean all of the water. I spent the entire hour squinting at the icebergs while what felt like buckets of freezing water slammed me in the face over and over. (Since I like to look at the bright side, I noted two important things: one, my waterproof pants were definitely waterproof; and two, I was ready for the polar plunge, since it felt like I’d already done one!)
Don’t mind the buckets of ice cold water – have some more tropical blue icebergs!
What an awesome day! Getting feet on Antarctica and finally seeing penguins was the culmination of years of dreaming. And this was just the beginning – there was so much adventure to come…
Next week: we cross the Antarctic Circle and are visited by a gang of humpback whales!
After two days on the Drake Passage, waiting with ever-increasing anticipation for the first glimpses of Antarctica (and distracting ourselves with spotting wandering albatrosses and looking out for whales in the distance – seeing none), we finally caught sight of the continent early in the morning on the third day. And our expedition staff went big for the first Antarctic adventure, with an early morning cruise through the Lemaire Channel.
The Lemaire Channel is an approximately seven mile long passage between mainland Antarctica and several close-in islands, in an area of the Peninsula that was largely explored by the French. It’s often called the “Kodak Channel” or the “Kodak Gap” because it’s just so darn photogenic.
I mean – look at that. Can you even?
Although it was only 7:00 a.m., the entire ship was out on the bow taking in these first views. The morning was a little foggy, but there was sunlight dancing over the craggy peaks on either side of the channel.
Steve spotted a penguin colony in the distance and tried to point it out to me, but I couldn’t see anything – it was okay, though. I was busy breathlessly taking in the mountains and glaciers, which were like nothing I’d ever seen before.
First sight of glaciers! I’d actually never seen a glacier, and now that I’ve been to Antarctica I’m spoiled for all other glaciers. There’s no way any other glacier could ever be as spectacular.
I’d read that one of the most surprising things about Antarctica is the many shades of blue in the ice – it’s not just white and grey. Even knowing that the ice would be blue, I was still bowled over by the stark beauty of it.
As I was looking out at the scenery, one of the expedition staff members – a veteran of many trips to the Arctic and Antarctic – appeared at my elbow and asked me if I saw the crabeater seals. “There are three of them hauled out on that sea ice over there,” he added, pointing to a small floating ice island just off the ship’s starboard side.
My first Antarctic wildlife sighting!
One of the seals was definitely a pup, and one of the adults I assume was the mother; there was another adult napping a few feet away.
As we slowly cruised by, I watched in awe and delight as the seals flopped around, lifted their heads, and checked out the ship.
The colors were amazing – not just the incredible tropical blue of the ice beneath the little berg, but also the gleaming silver of the crabeater seals’ sleek coats.
I could have watched these three all day, but they were stationary and we were not; eventually we passed their floating haven and continued through the channel.
I’d picked the right place to stand, because I had a perfect view of a slight disturbance in the water, and then… “Whale!” called out one of the other passengers.
Now this… this was what I’d traveled all that way to see. Our first Antarctic whale sighting!
The whale was casually surfacing and diving, enjoying a bonanza of krill in the chilly waters – this is buffet time for whales, and the reason we decided to go to Antarctica in February.
Eventually it did a deeper dive, flicking its fluke at us as a signal that it was gone for awhile. The dramatically slanted dorsal fin fooled me into thinking that this might be an Antarctic minke, but when I showed the pictures to the trip’s marine biologist he confirmed without a doubt that it was a humpback. My favorite whale? I’ll take it.
Eventually we cruised out of the channel and into wider waters, flanked by icebergs the size of city blocks – this was definitely terra incognita australis, the unknown southern land. And what a way to start our adventure!
After literally years of waiting for this moment – dreaming, planning, having the rug pulled out from under me, planning some more – the Ocean Diamond was docked in the Port of Ushuaia, the gangway was down and it was time to GO TO ANTARCTICA! To be perfectly honest, I was almost afraid to believe it until the moment my feet were both on the gangway. (And even then, until we actually lifted anchor I was half afraid someone would appear at my elbow and say, “Excuse me, ma’am, there seems to be some mistake.”) But that didn’t happen – of course it didn’t – and Steve and I found ourselves on board, giddily exploring the ship as we waited to leave the harbor and strike out on our adventure.
First on the agenda was finding our cabin. We’d booked a twin window cabin and were up on the sixth deck, right by the lifeboats.
In retrospect, if I had it to do over again knowing everything I know now, I probably would have saved some money and gotten a porthole instead of a window. I figured we would want to have the window so we could keep a constant watch for whale tails, but we spent less time in our cabin than I expected. (That said, I did spot several spouts and whale tails out of this window so…)
I’ve never been on a cruise ship before (and an Antarctica cruise isn’t really like anything else…) so I found it fascinating that everything, literally everything, was bolted down. Not a surprise, just fascinating. And the expedition staff were very clear that we should secure all of our possessions in closets and drawers before going to bed at night, or things would fly around the cabin – especially while we were crossing the Drake Passage. I was very diligent about stowing everything, and even so, I had to get up in the middle of the night to reorient my suitcase, which was rolling around and smashing into the closet doors the first night. (I learned my lesson quickly – that was the first and last time I stowed my suitcase upright.)
After finding our room, we stopped by the lounge to pick up afternoon tea snacks to share, and then sat through our embarkation briefing – the first of many briefings we would attend over the next two weeks. All of the food was delicious, but the little slices of coconut cake were the star of the show.
Briefing done, we wandered around the ship some more. I really wanted to be on the stern to wave goodbye to Ushuaia. We found a spot to stand up on the seventh deck – the observation level – and checked out all the fun toys stacked up on deck six: about a dozen zodiacs and – exciting stuff here, people – the sea kayaks we’d be paddling in Antarctica!
As we stood looking out over the exciting adventure apparatus, the ship started moving almost imperceptibly at first, then picking up a little bit – the Port of Ushuaia started to recede, and we were officially underway!
Two adventurers ready to go!
The evening was devoted to exiting the Beagle Channel. We sailed past Puerto Williams, Chile (barely visible in the picture above, snuggled just below the saddle of two mountains) and passed another ship also headed south out of the Beagle. The first hours were smooth and uneventful – the Beagle Channel has its moments, but it’s nothing compared to the Drake and we lucked into quiet waters. We took advantage of the opportunity to wander around the decks some more, looking out for whales (hey, you never know) and other wildlife (someone saw a Magellanic penguin, but it wasn’t us!).
In fact, that’s largely what we did for the next two days. We lucked out with a decent crossing of the Drake – the waves were 14-18 feet at times and rolling, but I am not prone to motion sickness; Steve is but he wore Relief Bands and was fine. While I discovered that I don’t sleep much on boats, neither one of us got sick, which was fortunate because our sea days were packed with briefings – zodiac safety; gear checks with our kayak group; parka and muck boot fittings; wildlife lectures. We did find some time to test out our new Quark Expeditions parkas on the decks as we watched albatrosses and petrels swoop behind the ship.
These are two people who are ready for a big adventure!
I’ve been dreaming of traveling to Antarctica for years – I’m a total whale nerd and the prospect of seeing my beloved humpback whales in some of the most remote waters on the planet… it’s the stuff dreams are made of. Back in 2018, Steve and I started discussing the prospect of making this dream trip a reality. I did a ton of research into different options – expedition providers, itineraries, best times to see our top priority wildlife, all of it – and settled on a trip with the highly rated polar travel experts, Quark Expeditions, in February 2022. That trip ended up being postponed a year due to COVID-related itinerary changes (don’t feel too sorry for Steve and me, though, because we consoled ourselves with an incredible adventure in Costa Rica). We waited patiently for another year and in February 2023, found ourselves en route to the ends of the earth, ready for our grand Antarctic adventure to finally begin.
Our ship was scheduled to sail from the port of Ushuaia, Argentina – a small city on the very tip of South America, popularly known as fin del mundo – the end of the world. It was certainly remote! Getting there was an expedition in and of itself – three flights (DC to Miami, Miami to Buenos Aires, and Buenos Aires to Ushuaia) plus an eight hour layover in between the second and third flights. We were traveling for two days straight, just to get to our embarkation point. But as our Aerolineas Argentina flight descended over the Beagle Channel into Ushuaia on the final leg, and I pressed my nose against the plane window to take in the absolutely spectacular mountains, it was all worth it.
We rolled into our hotel late in the evening on Valentine’s Day and set off looking for food (neither one of us had eaten more than a yogurt for the entirety of our layover or the final flight). Turns out, it’s just as hard to find a restaurant table in Ushuaia as it is anywhere else on Valentine’s. We eventually found a pizza joint that was able to seat us and dug into dinner at 10:00 p.m.
The next day was Embarkation Day. We slept in and headed down to the hotel dining room for a leisurely breakfast, and I nearly jumped out of my skin when I looked out the window and saw our ship, the Ocean Diamond, docked right across the street. I’m not sure I really believed that we were actually going to Antarctica until that moment.
Seeing all of the trip luggage piled up in the hotel lobby, ready to be transported to the ship, helped make it feel real, too.
The actual embarkation wasn’t scheduled until later in the evening. So after we signed our final paperwork and medical attestations, we were free to explore Ushuaia. Steve and I took the opportunity to walk around the cute downtown area (I mused that “it’s like South America, but make it Switzerland”) and grab food. We’d tried to eat dinner at a highly rated restaurant the prior day and there was no availability, so we popped in for lunch instead. I wasn’t very hungry, so I just had an empanada appetizer and coffee. Steve enjoyed perfectly cooked salmon on a bed of delicious-looking vegetables; I had some order envy and regretted my choice a tiny bit (even though my food was delicious too).
Spectacular mountains!
I was obsessed with this cute little town square and the adorable blue double-decker bus. And seriously, can’t get enough of these mountains in the background.
When in Ushuaia, it’s practically required to stop by the “fin del mundo” sign and take a picture. Until we started talking seriously about traveling to Antarctica, I can’t say that I ever imagined myself traveling here. What a cool adventure!
With a little time to spare, we even found space for an afternoon stop at an adorable cafe for some of Ushuaia’s famous hot chocolate. I can confirm that it lived up to the hype – yum.
Finally, legs agreeably tired from wandering the downtown and harbor areas and tummies happily treated to delicious Patagonian hot chocolate, we headed back to the hotel, where we jumped onto coach buses with our fellow passengers for the ride to the secured area of the port – and our long anticipated walk up the gangway on the Ocean Diamond.
Next week – exploring the ship, and embarking for Antarctica at last!
With a whole day to play in Badlands National Park, we wanted to mix up the adventure and try a few different things. We did the Junior Ranger program, of course – the kids are always salty, but then they’re happy to have their badges – hit a few overlooks, and visited a dinosaur site where we thought we’d see some fossils but didn’t. And we squeezed in an extra hike, for good measure – the popular Castle Trail.
The Castle Trail, I understand, is named for the towering buttes that rise in the distance and look like fairy tale castles. You can see it! It was a good family trail for us, because it was (1) flat, (2) clearly marked, and (3) as long as we wanted it to be, but no longer – it’s a long-distance trail, and we were able to go as far as little legs were up for and then turn back on our own schedule. There’s no shade, but that doesn’t stop us – we slathered extra sunscreen over our Casper the Friendly Ghost-pale faces and hit the dust.
I’d be misleading you if I didn’t admit that there was a fair amount of grumbling and a few refusals to walk, from both kids. It’s something I’ve learned over ten years now of hiking with littles: you just have to go in with no expectations, enjoy the hike you get, and not worry about the distance. If I was trying for a specific goal or wanted to hike the entire trail, I’d have been inevitably frustrated. But the Castle Trail was nice – again – because it offered up scenery the entire time, so we were able to turn back when the parents had enough kid diplomacy, and we still got in plenty of views.
Seventeen years of marriage – there’s my wisdom. Go in with no expectations.
No, but really – the Castle Trail was a great addition to our itinerary for the day, and a fun one to combine with the Door and Window Trails I showed you last week; it offered up different scenery and a different hiking experience, but was accessible and centrally located in the park. Can’t go wrong.
And that concludes our epic Dakotas (with Wyoming interlude) road trip from summer 2022! For a somewhat last-minute strategy shift after Yellowstone flooding scuttled our originally planned (and booked!) summer trip, we couldn’t have asked for a better experience. There was so much scenery to enjoy, the kids loved the cowboy culture, glamping was hilarious – it was such a fun adventure. I can unreservedly recommend the Dakotas (although if you’re not a biker, maybe check the Sturgis dates before you book…) whether you’re traveling with anklebiters or not.
Check in with me next week for the next travel series – we’re just going to keep right on rolling! And I can promise something very different: from this hot, sunny and sandy desert, we’re heading for the continent of ICE. Yep, I’m finally caught up and ready to share some pictures from Steve’s and my incredible adventure in Antarctica!
A few years ago, we were on a streak of being away on vacation for Peanut’s birthday (which is the third week in August). Partly this was because I like to push our family summer travel as late as I can – anticipation is more fun than the post-vacation comedown – and partly it was because she got attached to the idea of a trip “for her birthday.” But in the past couple of years, the kids have been starting school on her birthday week, so the Peanut party has shifted to home base, and we’ve been traveling a week or so earlier. The fun bonus to this is – we’ve been able to be on vacation for our wedding anniversary a few times now. When we planned our summer 2022 travel, we aimed for that week as both the last possible travel week before school and anniversary week. And I knew I wanted to plan something extra special for our actual anniversary.
From everything I’d read, Badlands National Park seemed like just the extra special adventure I had in mind. The park is described as otherworldly, like nothing else, totally unique – sounds right to me.
Our first stop – after the obligatory run into the visitors’ center to hit the potty and pick up Junior Ranger booklets – was the Door and Window Trails. These are two separate trails located next to one another and accessible from the same parking lot. The Window Trail is very short – really just a quick jaunt to an overlook (where a kind stranger offered to take a family picture for us, and did such a nice job that the picture became our Christmas card image for 2022). But the Door Trail extends about a mile or so, via a few interspersed yellow posts (it’s not really a trail…) directly into the desert.
I couldn’t get enough of the colors. It was very hot out – even with a little bit of cloud cover giving some relief – and the contrasts between the orange and taupe of the badlands and the bright blue sky were just spectacular.
Almost immediately, we spotted a bighorn sheep atop a distant butte, and then – just a bit further off in the distance – a second one. Sadly, I didn’t have my zoom lens with me! Bighorn sheep are always exciting.
The kids had fun climbing rocks and scrambling up and down the little embankments – this was a fun trail for them. You do have to have your wits about you – it’s easy to get lost in the unfamiliar landscape, since there isn’t really a clearly marked trail – but if you’ve got parents paying close attention, the Door Trail is a great choice for a family.
From the Door, we headed over to the Window and snagged that family photo, along with a few more snaps of the Martian-looking landscape – too cool. And then it was back to the (air conditioned!) car to cruise along to our next hike.
Check in with me next week for the final Dakotas post! And then it will be off to somewhere COMPLETELY different – travel posts continue!
While we didn’t get to spend a week in Wyoming as we were planning, I was pleased to discover that we’d be close enough to the state – albeit the other side – to make a day trip there from South Dakota. We were all excited about the prospect of adding a third state to our vacation agenda and exploring the gorgeous and fascinating Devils Tower National Monument.
Devils Tower is a massive rock tower rising out of the Earth and hundreds of feet into the sky. While there are many legends about how the tower came to be, the one I like best is the story of a group of young Indigenous boys who were being stalked by a massive bear. The Earth itself rose up to save them from the bear, and the deep grooves down the tower are the bear’s claw marks, made while the boys looked down from above. (The grooves are also popular for “crack climbing” – not on our agenda for this time!)
Views of the tower – I couldn’t stop snapping pictures!
We hiked a trail that wound around the entire circumference of the tower, taking us out onto the hills behind the monument and overlooking a grand river valley, then back to the visitors’ center.
Still want to make that Yellowstone trip happen – someday! In the meantime, we got our Wyoming fix in a pretty darn spectacular way, if I do say so myself.
Next week: our final park of the trip! It’s an extra-spectacular one, so I’m breaking the recap into two blog posts. Check in with me then!
When we quickly changed our summer vacation plans from Yellowstone and Grand Teton National Parks to a last-minute Dakotas road trip – and especially when we booked lodging ten minutes from Mount Rushmore – I knew that the famous monument would be on our agenda. We wouldn’t devote an entire day to it, of course, but the kids were looking forward to this. For my part, I had mixed feelings about it. Mount Rushmore has never been high on my list of must-see American landmarks, for one thing, and for another… the idea of seeing four white men’s faces blasted into a beautiful mountain with no regard (at the time the monument was sculpted, at least) for First Nations or Indigenous spiritual needs was… off-putting.
But it was ten minutes’ drive from our campground, and we weren’t planning to spend much time there. We arrived – the place was swarming with people – checked out the visitors’ center, bought bottles of water for the kids (Nugget promptly lost his) and set off for the short, paved trail past the monument.
It’s a relatively easy walk, and the kids liked seeing the rockfall from the blasting. Nugget also got a kick out of looking up George Washington’s nose.
We tried to approach Mount Rushmore from a place of thoughtfulness. We talked about how none of the Presidents who appear on the mountain gave their consent for their images to be used, how the blasting altered the unspoilt beauty of the mountains, and how these hills are sacred to Indigenous populations. To be perfectly honest, I’m not sure how much the kids retained. But I tried, and now we’ve done Mount Rushmore.
From Mount Rushmore, we drove a short distance over to a very different monument: Crazy Horse. Crazy Horse was a Lakota leader who prophesied that he would return to his people “in stone.” Many years later, a Polish artist was commissioned to design and begin construction on the Crazy Horse Monument to honor the leader. The artist’s family still live and work on the unfinished monument today; for years now, only Crazy Horse’s head has been visible – they have just started in on his arm and hand.
We didn’t take the bus ride close to the monument, choosing instead to spend our limited time puttering around the Native American cultural center and listening to an Indigenous musician sing to a small but appreciative crowd (he introduced himself and shared some details about his tribe, and I’m sorry to say I’ve forgotten where he was from – I was a little stressed about something going on at work, and was distracted all day because of that). I couldn’t help wondering if the Crazy Horse Monument would have been finished by now (it’s been a work in progress for decades) or at least further along if the stories, history, and identity of First Nations and Indigenous people were as highly valued as the white faces on Mount Rushmore. Seeing the two monuments back-to-back was a really thought-provoking experiment.
Have you been to Mount Rushmore or Crazy Horse Mountain?
covered in flour 