There’s a slightly surreal quality about going to any place that has been commonly used in popular culture. The Empire State building, the Golden Gate Bridge, the Washington Monument are all familiar icons of America and the cities they belong in. Even if you have never seen them in person, you immediately know where they are and what the setting is when you see them. Nothing epitomizes this surreal feeling more than Mount Rushmore National Monument. To walk up and see the carved faces in the mountain is both familiar and strangely foreign as if you are on a movie set or suddenly inserted into a kitschy vintage postcard. Though they are a destination in and of itself with no major city surrounding them (other than a million tourist traps leading to and from the monument) Mt. Rushmore stands for America. I just wish I could have run across all the presidents’ faces like Cary Grant and Eva Marie Saint did, but sadly the National Park Service apparently frowns on that sort of antics.