Severe thunderstorms in the Black Hills tend to develop in the afternoons and evenings of summer. But golf-ball-sized hail, on rare occasion, can fall in May. The air rising over Harney Peak on an eastward course seems to struggle today for rain-cloud status even in morning. Yet again and again, the clouds break for blue sky beyond Rushmore.

By the time Tyler and Misti reach the Centennial Bypass three miles south of Mount Rushmore, they are sizing up the possibility of sitting out at least a small thunderstorm before reaching the monument. Taking a break at the Bypass 89B junction, they discuss the goal of being at Rushmore ahead of the rain.

Today is not the most demanding of their itinerary. They will have plenty of time, but they wish to save any extra energy for tomorrow. They don't want to waste it racing for the masonry structures of Rushmore. They decide to keep a steady pace and be prepared to stop short for a rainstorm, which could still fail to materialize. They resume the trek before 9:30 AM Mountain Daylight Time.

Traveling mostly downhill, the hikers descend, then climb, then descend again— putting small hills and 200-foot climbs behind them. They pass small marshes and sentinel granite and exchange greetings with four hikers speaking German. Traveling with light daypacks, the friendly foreigners are hiking south from the cosmopolitan population of Rushmore, virtually a small city in summertime.

From the hill south of Grizzly Creek, Tyler and Misti see Mount Rushmore for the first time from the trail. Lincoln appears to be looking from behind Washington's shoulder. Descending the hill, the hikers find Grizzly Creek to be a clear stream flowing among crowded rocks and dense shrubbery. It will be a good source of water, if necessary, when they return from Rushmore. But water too, is falling from the sky now in a light sprinkle.

Upon reaching Grizzly Creek, they hike a couple hundred yards along the stream, then a couple hundred yards beyond that. Here they must look again for a sign marking the turn eastward onto the Blackberry Trail to Rushmore. The sprinkle of rain is proving persistent as they immediately cross a small stream, tributary to Grizzly Creek, in a marshy area brimming with poison ivy.

Suddenly a crack of thunder postpones Tyler and Misti's appointment with four presidents. The 360-foot climb will have to wait, but it is not that simple. The hikers are near a watery marsh, well grounded electrically and host to tall ponderosa pines. This area hardly seems safe in a lightning storm. The hikers move on, seeking the first grove of small trees away from the stream. It's precarious business they are engaged in.

In another five minutes, with only distant thunder, Tyler and Misti have passed the outcrop that keeps them close to the stream. They resort to the forest away from the marsh and tall trees, lean their packs against smaller trees, cover them, cover themselves, walk several paces away, and squat apart from each other among short trees. Here they wait out the rain, which is rapidly progressing to a downpour.

Tyler and Misti now have a half-hour to glance through the pine needles and water dripping from their rain-parka hoods at each other. They roll their eyes and grin. They are neither in the safest place, nor in the worst, and the lightning passes them by.

MOUNT RUSHMORE NATIONAL MEMORIAL

What Tyler and Misti see when they reach the top of the Blackberry Trail is not the white stone and blue skies of a thousand photographs. The stone is darkened with moisture down from Washington and Lincoln's noses and eyes.

The Faces portray now not so much pageantry but greater realism. The whims of nature have given them tears and runny noses—with dignity undiminished. But perhaps to understand anyone, one must look past the formal presentation to his hopes and dreams, pains and tears. Few have spent time in the wilderness and not discovered this other side of the Faces.

It is practically a cliché of history that to be great is to be misunderstood. Perhaps it is not so much that these Faces have been maligned as that they have not been considered in depth. So many people have seen the blue skies of brief history but not the rain clouds of thorough biography. Nature was very much upon the minds behind these Faces.

LOOKING BACK 

Perhaps it is ironic that representations of four men should commemorate the founding and development of the nation. The nation was founded upon the rule of law, not of men—not of royal whim, aristocratic privilege, or religious intolerance. The remarkable men and women who founded and sustained the early Republic separated from a Europe bogged down in paternalism, in obscure "authority," and in disputes of religion.

Those forces gained a foothold also among the colonies, but the era of the Constitution—two centennials previous—resolved that political independence and viability as a nation required religious freedom. In 1789, the Bill of Rights was submitted to the states. In 1789 and 1790, the last of the original thirteen colonies became states.

In 1889 and 1890, South Dakota and Wyoming, encompassing the entire Black Hills, also became states. Hence the Centennial Trail is #89, marking an important Centennial and Bicentennial as well.

FOOD, WATER, AND PEOPLE FROM FAR-AWAY PLACES

So Tyler and Misti drink the water of Rushmore and stow it away in their packs. Exotic cookies and chocolate brownies also move among foreign languages to add calories and weight to waiting food sacks. And the hikers eat a hearty meal and rest upon the terraces with people from throughout America and places around the globe.

As the food digests, camping this evening poses many questions. It's a good time to study the map. In terms of balancing work between days, Horsethief Lake Campground offers the best place to camp. There is potable water, the opportunity to build a campfire, even a chance to swim, though the water is cool in early June. And the campground does not fill early in the first week of June, though later in summer a reservation would be an advantage.

Horsethief Trail #14 might be considered an alternate route of the Centennial—for hikers only. It arrives at a trailhead south of the lake. A turn west passes by the campground at the lake and up to Big Pine Trailhead to meet the Centennial again.

Beyond the lake to the north, there are few choices except perhaps a side-trip down to Pine Creek below the spillway of the lake, and downstream somewhat. Big Pine Trailhead, north of the lake, is not a campground, though backpackers might wander away from it to pitch a tent. But there would be no water. From Big Pine Trailhead to the north, the Centennial Trail quickly descends toward private land. Battle Creek runs along a paved highway, and there are houses nearby.

South of Horsethief Lake in the wilderness, the streams are crowded by granite outcrops, poison ivy in many places, and sometimes mosquitoes. Setting up tent the required distance from streams might involve hazardous climbing up into the rock outcrops. That prospect is better suited to the mountain goats that frequent the area.

Depending upon the afternoon weather, Tyler and Misti are considering stopping on a ridge a mile-and-a-half back from Horsethief Lake. That would leave them a downhill walk to Horsethief Lake on the following morning. There they could fill their water bottles for the hike on Day Four. If they decide against camping on the ridge, they'll pay a fee and camp at the Horsethief Lake Campground.

RETURN TO BLACK ELK

Departing from Rushmore in early afternoon, Tyler and Misti stop to look back toward the Faces, dry now and their confidence undaunted. Washington seems to nod to kindred spirits with a gentle glance their way. And down the Blackberry trail, the hikers pass the place where they huddled against the rain.

At the junction with the Centennial, Tyler suggests that he could leave his backpack with Misti and return with water in ten minutes. Misti vetoes the idea. They will both walk back a couple hundred yards to Grizzly Creek. There Misti straps the tent to her backpack and Tyler fills the 2.5 gallon collapsible water bag. Together they carry that 20 pounds of added weight a mile-and-a-half and up 600 feet to their campsite on the ridge. The trail is #5 and #89 combined.

Tyler has a well-fitted pack that can carry the extra weight for this short time. In terms of energy expended, it is comparable to walking an extra quarter mile. Otherwise, this has been a short day in terms of mileage and climbing..

Then there on the ridge, above the mosquitoes and ivy, the two hikers walk a couple hundred feet off trail, pitch their tent among granite and pines, and find nearby overlooks from which to look out over Black Elk Wilderness.

The wilderness is named for Black Elk, a Lakota visionary. This cousin to Crazy Horse foresaw a time when his people could return to the simple ways of their ancestors and hunt the sacred buffalo away from fences and square houses. Here was nature in his vision.

The Great White Fathers of Rushmore too were visionaries. They considered Natural Law to precede the formation of governments. And in that Law, the Natural Rights of Man included life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, which in those days included property and a nearness to the land. They envisioned a nation where those Natural Rights steadfastly prevailed.

Sitting on their wilderness perch high over Black Elk Wilderness, Tyler and Misti are also visionaries. They contemplate a simpler life nearer to the rocks, the trees, and the streams. But for now, they can only visit that vision. The outward reality of it has not yet arrived to stay. For the present, there are ticks, and tents, and clouds, and stormy weather.

_ENext Page: Day Four