The Illegal Selfies Tourists Keep Taking on South Dakota’s Monuments

South Dakota’s monuments and memorials draw thousands of visitors each year, but not everyone follows the rules once the camera comes out. Rangers and local guides say the same pattern repeats every season: visitors edging past signs, climbing fences, and risking fines or worse for a perfect selfie. Here’s what’s really happening and why it matters. I spent time speaking with rangers, reading current guidance, and watching the flow of crowds so you can plan smarter and leave no trace.

Ignoring Barriers at Mount Rushmore

Park rangers routinely stop visitors who slip past the stone walls near the base of Mount Rushmore. The trails and viewing decks are the only legal photo areas. Climbing or hiking closer to the sculpture is strictly prohibited under federal law, both for safety and for preservation. Yet each summer, people cross warning signs to get a selfie closer to the presidents’ faces.

The penalties include fines and possible federal citations. I watched rangers explain how rockfall, steep slopes, and fragile infrastructure turn shortcuts into rescue calls. I also saw how a telephoto lens from the Grand View Terrace produces crisp portraits without risk. Clear signs and closures change with conditions, so I always check the daily bulletin near the visitor center.

If crowds bunch up, I step aside and wait for gaps rather than lean over rails. The evening lighting program also offers flattering angles from legal spots. You can shoot wide scenes, portraits with flags, or detailed shots of the carving’s textures. The best photos come when you respect distance. You also help protect habitat that clings to those cliffs. I leave with clean shoes, a calm mind, and zero citations.

Drone and Clifftop Shots at the Crazy Horse Memorial

The Crazy Horse Memorial remains under active construction, and drones are banned. That doesn’t stop visitors from trying. Some hike onto private or restricted property to capture overhead angles. Security staff regularly ask them to leave, reminding everyone that the monument sits on private land where photography rules are clearly posted.

I met guides who patiently walk guests through the lookout schedule and weather limitations. They shared how unapproved drone flights interrupt work and threaten safety. The site offers official viewpoints that frame the carving and the surrounding pine hills beautifully. I put my drone away and used a long lens from the deck instead. The result looked sharp, and I stayed within the rules.

When wind gusts pick up, dust can reduce visibility, so I plan for calmer hours. If I want an elevated perspective, I ask staff about scheduled bus tours and vantage points. They know the angles and the current boundaries. Respect goes a long way here because the project holds deep meaning for Lakota communities. You support progress by following posted guidance. South Dakota benefits when visitors keep it responsible and courteous.

Climbing the Needles in Custer State Park

The granite spires known as the Needles attract climbers but only those with permits on designated routes. Tourists sometimes scramble up unapproved formations just for a photo. Rangers issue citations for off-trail climbing and warn that loose rock makes those stunts genuinely dangerous. I watched a crew of volunteers explain why fragile lichen and nesting areas need a wide berth.

That talk changed how I move through tight corridors and overlooks. I keep to pullouts, take my time, and never step beyond railings for a selfie. The spires deliver plenty of drama from legal viewpoints around the Needles Highway. If you plan to climb, check current route closures and permit requirements with park staff before you gear up. Conditions shift after storms, and rock can break under a casual hop.

Good footwear and patience will get you safer shots than a quick scramble. I often shoot during soft light to avoid harsh contrast on the granite. It helps the forms pop without edited extremes. South Dakota rewards the careful traveler with views that linger in memory. You leave the needles intact for the next set of eyes and lenses.

Trespassing at Badlands Overlooks

The Badlands offer sweeping views that already make perfect pictures, yet visitors keep walking past fences to perch on unstable ridges. Those rocks can crumble without warning. Rangers frequently remind people that off-trail here means unsafe, but social media trends keep fueling risky behavior. I’ve seen gusts knock hats right off heads near exposed edges.

That wind doesn’t care about your footing or your phone. I stay on marked boardwalks and overlooks and give wildlife wide space. The best compositions come from patient framing and the changing sky. You can use a wider lens to pull in the ridgelines without stepping closer. Park maps highlight areas with sensitive soils that collapse under a few steps.

I also check the day’s alerts for closures and wildlife advisories before heading out. After rain, clay turns slick and unforgiving. Take it slow, and let the terrain guide your shots rather than your feed. South Dakota’s Badlands need steady feet and respect. You return with great photos and keep rescue teams focused on real emergencies.

Walking Onto Tribal or Private Land for Angles

In parts of western South Dakota, sacred sites lie near public monuments. Some travelers stray onto restricted tribal lands seeking unobstructed shots. Local leaders have asked visitors to respect boundaries and understand that not every scenic spot is open for photos. I call the nearby visitor center or tribal tourism office when I am uncertain about access.

Clear communication prevents conflict and keeps travel plans smooth. Posted signs mark limits, and maps often show land status changes along a single road. I rely on those references and stick to public easements. If I want a better vantage point, I ask about guided tours or permitted pullouts. A longer lens solves most framing problems without stepping across a line.

Respectful visitors help support ongoing stewardship and cultural priorities. This courtesy applies across the state and builds trust for future travelers. I found that small choices earn big goodwill. You leave places as you found them and keep stories intact for the communities who hold them close.

Climbing Historic Sculptures and Memorials in Town Centers

Even in smaller towns like Rapid City or Keystone, tourists sometimes climb base structures for elevated selfies. Local ordinances treat that as property damage or trespassing, with fines that can reach several hundred dollars. I saw visitors step onto pedestals for a quick shot and step back down when reminded by a nearby officer. The better approach is simple.

Stand back, work your framing, and use surrounding context like murals or trees to add depth. City sculptures often commemorate specific people or moments that matter locally. You can read the plaques and learn why the piece stands there before you snap. That story gives your photo weight and relevance. Many plazas also host events that change access for short periods.

I check city calendars to avoid barricades and crowds. Street lighting can look nice just after sunset, and you stay on the pavement where you belong. The result feels polished without risk. South Dakota towns welcome curious visitors who treat public art with care. You leave with sharper images and a better sense of place.

The Bigger Problem: Turning Sacred Ground Into Backdrops

For residents, the frustration isn’t just about rules. Many South Dakotans, especially Indigenous communities, see these places as sacred or symbolic. Treating them like playgrounds or selfie stages misses their meaning. Respectful photography is welcomed. Reckless stunts are not.

I try to learn what a site represents before I lift my camera. Interpretive panels, ranger talks, and tribal publications provide context that changes how I compose. A photo can carry respect when you include setting, story, and scale rather than a stunt. I keep volume low, give ceremonies room, and avoid blocking pathways for long setups.

That approach helps everyone share space without conflict. It also produces images with more heart. When you slow down, people open up and offer insights you cannot get from a quick scroll. Your gallery ends up stronger and more honest. This mindset makes travel in South Dakota feel connected rather than extractive, and it costs nothing.

How to Do It Right

Stay behind rails, use zoom lenses, and check posted rules before shooting. Ask rangers or guides where photography is allowed. Some monuments, including Mount Rushmore and Crazy Horse, have specific overlooks designed for wide shots without harm. I also scan daily alerts and weather notes because wind, lightning, or wildlife activity can change access quickly.

When in doubt, I ask rather than guess. Good photos rarely require risky moves. A small tripod and a steady hand make a bigger difference than stepping closer. If you travel with friends, take turns so one person watches bags while the other focuses on framing. You keep aisles clear and avoid bumping strangers.

I back up files in the car and leave no trace where I stood. The result is a calm, efficient routine that respects the site and your time. South Dakota rewards care with clean views and helpful staff. You head home with images that feel earned, not forced.