The Great American Odyssey: A Tale of Mount Rushmore, Bears, and Turkey Refugees

Mount Rushmore, SD, USA

Mount Rushmore!

In a world where family vacations often turn into episodes of "Survivor: Suburbia Edition," our latest adventure proved that humor, unexpected detours, and the wonders of American monumentalism can create memories worth writing home about, or at least worth a chuckle or two.

It all started after we bid adieu to the serene Chico Hot Springs and wrapped up family funerals - a juxtaposition only life can script. With heavy hearts but lighter spirits, we left Grandpa's "shack" on the river, which I suspect is his euphemism for "wilderness fortress of solitude." The journey homeward began.

The Shack on the river

As any parent knows, a long drive with kids is akin to hosting a live, interactive, and often combative podcast. Antsy from the confines of the car, our kids transformed the backseat into a mini-rebellion. Sensing the brewing storm, my wife and I exchanged "the look" - seasoned parents know this look well. It's a mix of love, desperation, and unspoken strategy.

Our impromptu plan? A detour to Mount Rushmore. Serendipitously, it's almost exactly halfway between Grandpa's woodland hideout and our abode. I hadn't visited since my own childhood, so the nostalgia was real - like revisiting a favorite old TV show and finding it's still good.

Unfortunately, our eldest, in a commendable yet impressive display of dedication to soccer, couldn't join us. So, with three-quarters of our offspring in tow, we embarked on the Mount Rushmore experience, promising a sequel trip for the missing member.

The trek to the monument was an educational safari, complete with informational signs and statues. It's like Disneyland for history buffs but with fewer mouse ears and more presidential faces. The gift shop was a hit, because what's a family trip without souvenirs that will be cherished for a week and then forgotten in a drawer?

As the sun set, we reached the main event - the majestic Mount Rushmore. Here's the plot twist: we arrived just in time to miss the final lighting ceremony of the year. Don’t worry it's now on my life's side quest list.

The kids were in awe of the stone-carved presidents, their faces illuminated only by the stars and you know probably not environmentally friendly unnaturally bright spotlights. It's a sight to behold, like seeing your favorite celebrities at the grocery store, only more...granite.

The descent back to the car was where things took a turn for the comedic. Our youngest boy, suddenly remembering every bear-related fact he's ever heard, started roaring to ward off any potential ursine encounters. His efforts didn't go unnoticed. An older lady, clearly impressed with his bear-scaring prowess, thanked him for keeping us all safe. Little did she know, his "roar" is more likely to attract a confused raccoon than deter a bear.

Our next stop was a pizza joint in a nearby town, where we met a fascinating turkey refugee. His story of seasonal work and a return home to support his family was a slice of real-life Americana. He's a man of resilience and ambition, much like the faces etched in the mountain we'd just visited.

Pizza devoured and stories shared, the kids succumbed to sleep, and we continued our journey home. The car was quiet, the road stretched ahead, and our hearts were full - of pizza, of gratitude, and of memories that would surely outlast even the most enduring of mountain carvings.

And so concluded our Great American Odyssey - a trip that was supposed to be a simple drive home but turned into a story of historical giants, bear imitations, and unexpected human connections.