Calling an Audible

Or "Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas," so where the heck will we see wheat?

This is a story about what happens when you think you've planned thoroughly, only to discover at 10:30 p.m. the night before the amber wave portion of your tour that Mount Rushmore is 100 miles north of where you thought it was. After various permutations that took us well past midnight, it seemed a sacrifice would have to be made. What would it be? Dorothy country or the four presidents? My words to Dana as I finally gave into sleep, "find a fabulous hotel in South Dakota and I'll consider giving up Kansas." When I awoke at 6:30, I learned that he had done just that.

So... our amber waves were a bit less awe-inspiring than I had hoped they would be, but Kerrie was able to direct us to a lovely little wheat field in a town just north of Denver named, appropriately enough, Wheatridge. I'm not sure that our foray into the amber waves warrants our blog title or banner, but, as a lover of irony, I'm sticking with them both.

Our drive through Colorado, Wyoming and South Dakota was uneventful until it was too eventful, when the GPS gave out, both cell phones died, the skies opened up, and we were misdirected to the longer route to get to our lodge in Hill City, just outside Mount Rushmore. Luckily, the misdirection added only about 30 minutes to our trip and took us through even more of the breathtaking Black Hill National Forest, where we saw another half dozen or so deer to add to the several we had already seen on the drive through Wyoming (where nobody lives -- I mean, honestly, how could so much land be occupied by so few people), gave us a chance to open the windows and sunroof to experience the cold breeze and better view the spectacular rainbow that was leading us on (though I did have a momentary Kansas pang), and enabled us to enjoy more RadioDisney :-).

Ultimately, we arrived at our lodge at around 7:00 p.m., changed into warmer clothes and headed over to the lighting ceremony at Mount Rushmore. Which was nothing like I expected. It was both more grandiose and smaller than I thought it would be. Dana and I both thought it would be a huge rock formation next to a bunch of hot dog stands. Instead, there is much more pomp and circumstance surrounding it (courtesy of Bill Clinton, apparently); as we approached, a huge deer walked right up to the walkway. He looked at us for several seconds, then hopped off into the hills. The most moving part of the evening was the conclusion of the ceremony, when the park ranger asked all the military personnel, past and present, to come to the stage to help retire the flag for the night. Very powerful. The kids were amazing. Despite the long drive and the late hour, they were both riveted during the ceremony. "I love history," concluded Daniel, as we headed back to the lodge.

Well, I've blathered (blaggered?) on more than I intended, so I'll pop a few photos on the site and call it a day.