Crazy Horse Monument and Buffalo
I woke at the pulloff right beside the entrance to the Crazy Horse Monument. There was a sag wagons directly in front of me. Cyclist were slow coming of the bike trail behind me and having a snack. There were about thirty riders and they had the bags stowed in the vans. The vans were from Lizard Head Cycling Guides (Road Cycling & Mountain Bike Tours). Once they were together again, and fed, which took 45 minutes, they road up the hill to the Crazy Horse Memorial. I pulled out right behind them. There was a $15 charge to get in. They gave me a ticket and told me to give it to the woman at the gate. I never used it.
There was a large parking lot for RVs and I drove to the furthest spot with the front parked away from the sun. I made breakfast and sat to do some writing. Thirty minutes two cars pulled up beside me. Most of the parking lot was empty, but they chose the space beside me. I’ve noticed a pattern of this and people are parking close to my van on the shadow side because the van casts a pretty big shadow. I noticed it with other large vehicles parked in the parking lot today.
You can’t have too many campers!!
Indian Museum of North America®
The visitor center is very large and contains artifacts dating back thousands of years. The exhibits consist of the following and more:
Indian Museum of North America® (artifacts and art from over 300 Native Nations)
Native American Educational & Cultural Center® (artist demonstrations, cultural activities, seasonal programs)
Mountain Carving Gallery (tools, models, and history of the sculpture’s progress)
Ziolkowski Family Life Collection (Korczak Ziolkowski and family history)
Tribal Flag Collection (over 125 tribal flags)
Edward Curtis Prints Collection
David Humphreys Miller Collection (“Custer Survivors”)
Andrew Standing Soldier Collection
American Bison Exhibit
Paha Ska’s Tipi
Crazy Horse Section
I spent some time in the exhibit section that tells the story of Crazy Horse, and it’s one of those histories you can’t help but pause over. The panels walk through his life, starting with his youth. He wasn’t born with the name Crazy Horse—early on, he was called Curly because of his light, wavy hair. It wasn’t until later, after proving himself in battle, that he took on his father’s name and became the Crazy Horse we know today.
His personal life was more complicated than I expected. The panels made a point of explaining Lakota marriage customs—wives could leave their husband and take another if they wished. Crazy Horse had several wives over time, and that shifting of relationships added to the conflicts in his life. He was shot once by a jealous husband, and the wound nearly killed him.
Of course, much of his legacy comes from his role as a warrior. Crazy Horse fought in skirmishes and larger battles alike, resisting the waves of settlers and soldiers pushing into Lakota lands. The killings of homesteaders were part of that violent clash of cultures, as was his role in the Great Sioux War. He stood alongside other leaders at the Battle of the Little Bighorn, where Custer met his end. The exhibit didn’t glorify the fight—it laid it out as a defining moment, both victory and tragedy.
What struck me most, though, was the contrast later in his life. After so much bloodshed, Crazy Horse worked as a peacemaker, trying to negotiate a future for his people. That didn’t sit well with everyone—neither the army nor some of his own people fully trusted him. Eventually he was arrested under suspicion of planning to leave the reservation. He never made it out alive. An army soldier stabbed him during the chaos, and that was the end of one of the greatest Lakota leaders.
Reading it all in sequence like that, the panels painted a full arc: a boy named Curly, a warrior who became Crazy Horse, a leader both fierce in battle and committed to peace, and finally a man cut down in betrayal. It’s a story that’s as human as it is legendary, and standing there in front of those displays, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of it.
The Art Work
The Indian Museum of North America® at Crazy Horse Memorial holds an extraordinary collection of artwork from Native artists across the continent, ranging from traditional beadwork and quillwork to contemporary paintings and sculpture. Walking through, you see how each piece tells a story—honoring heritage while also showing how Native art continues to evolve today. There was even a piece by one of my favorite artist, Gorman (The woman sitting below).
The story of the monument itself is just as compelling as Crazy Horse’s life. After his death, Lakota leaders wanted a memorial that could stand alongside Mount Rushmore, but on their own terms. In 1948, they invited sculptor Korczak Ziolkowski, who had worked briefly on Rushmore, to take on the project. What makes it remarkable is that from the start, they refused any federal funding. They wanted this to be built by the people, for the people, without government strings attached. That decision shaped everything—funding came through admission fees, donations, and sheer determination. Korczak and his family lived and worked on the mountain, often with little money, but with a vision that one day Crazy Horse would rise from the granite, a monument not just to one man but to the spirit of all Native people.
In the movie they discussed the story of Korczak and Ruth Ziolkowski. Korczak was already a prolific sculptor before ever setting foot in the Black Hills. He had studied under Auguste Rodin—one of my favorites—which says a lot about the artistic tradition he carried. Ruth was equally accomplished, not just the supportive partner in the background but the one who kept the whole project alive, handling the business side, rallying support, and steering things forward after Korczak’s death. Together they raised six children, and instead of walking away from the mountain, those children—and now their grandchildren—are still at work on it today. Watching that film, it was clear this isn’t just one man’s vision anymore; it’s a family legacy, chiseled into granite and carried forward generation by generation.
For me, another striking exhibit is the collection of Edward S. Curtis photogravures, printed in rich sepia tones. These early 20th-century images capture portraits and scenes of Native peoples, blending artistry with documentary history. Standing in front of them, you get a sense of both the dignity and resilience of the subjects, preserved in photographs that have outlasted the fragile era in which they were taken.
You can spend many hours just touring the indian museum. I left and tried to walk to the monument down the dirt road. I was told you can’t do that because of the construction. There was a bus tour for an addition $5 that would take you closer, but it wasn’t operating because of lightning. As I read that, a helicopter flew over and circled the monument.
Crazy Horse Memorial
I had to take photos of the unfinished statue from a distance.The construction area was off limits, but there was normally a bus tour for an additional $5 that would take you closer to the mountain. It wasn’t operating because of lightning. As I read that sign, a helicopter flew overhead and circled the monument. I had to settle for photos of the unfinished statue from a distance.
Custer State Park
From there I drove into Custer State Park and ended up spending most of the late afternoon exploring. Entry is $25 for a seven-day pass. I chose the Wildlife Loop Road, about a two-hour trip. They didn’t give me much information at the entrance, but I knew this was where a large herd of buffalo roams freely. At first I wondered why I had just paid $25 for views I’d already had for free in plenty of places.
Then suddenly the road opened into a flat plain, and I was surrounded by buffalo—and cars. Traffic came to a standstill as the animals wandered right down the middle of the road, ignoring the line of vehicles. I overheard a tour guide in a jeep explain, “They don’t change their behavior for cars unless you get out.” Sure enough, some brushed against the side of my van as they passed, and one even stopped to peer in at me. After about an hour, I noticed the entire herd turning in one direction, maybe following the lead of an elder or simply moving with the time of day. I drove ahead to the front of the herd and watched them stream past. It was truly a privilege to observe these massive animals in an open habitat.
At the Bison Center, which was closed, I spotted a small group of wild mules. One of the babies came close as if curious, but I slipped back into the van, not sure how its mother might react. Later, I stopped at the State Park Visitor Center, also closed, but I was told it’s worth a visit when open.
At one of the roadside information areas, a couple pulled up beside me in a four-wheel buggy. Their GPS had cut out, and mine wasn’t working either. I fired up Starlink, pulled up the map, and was able to point them back toward their rental site. The sky stayed cloudy, and while the light wasn’t dramatic, it gave the landscape a softer mood. To the north, the sun lit up the low clouds and created some beautiful views.
By evening I rolled into Custer, SD, not quite sure where I’d park. I could’ve gone back to the same spot as the night before, but iOverlander showed a Black Hills National Forest site nearby that sounded perfect with more spaces further in. The first spot I tried wasn’t level, so I drove up a steep dirt road and suddenly found myself face-to-face with a herd of cows resting right on the road. With no way to turn around, I had to back up about 300 feet until I finally spotted a flat pull-off. That’s where I set up for the night.