One of the things we love most at Grit Overland is seeing where our customers take their Link 148 adventure vans. These rigs are built to go beyond the ordinary, to help people discover wild places, quiet moments, and experiences that stick with them long after the trip ends. Whether it’s a backcountry trailhead, an unexpected overlook, or a deeply meaningful stop like this one, our community keeps showing us how rich van life can really be.
On a recent van life road trip, longtime Grit van owners Lisa and Helge found themselves at a powerful and unexpected destination — the Living Memorial Sculpture Garden just north of Weed, California. Here’s their story.
Stumbling Upon the Living Memorial Sculpture Garden
Just 13 miles north of Weed, CA along US Highway 97 and situated along the northwestern slope of the majestic Mount Shasta is the Living Memorial Sculpture Garden. We saw it on the navigation screen as we headed out of Weed and thought it would be a nice place to get out and stretch our legs and view whatever artistic vision someone chose to put out in the middle of nowhere.
What was meant by “Living Memorial”? Consumed with curiosity, we were not disappointed.
Entering a Landscape of Silence and Reflection
Helge grabbed his photo gear and went into photographer mode, snapping away, even though the light wasn’t perfect. I stepped gingerly out into the morning chill, returned to the van for another layer, shrugged my hands deeply into my jacket pockets (too lazy to hunt for my gloves), and entered into this lonely spot, a dry and dusty land dotted with rugged fir and pine trees.
Gravel crunched underfoot, with faint traces of dust rising to meet my joggers. Just a few hundred yards off the busy highway, the road noise was barely audible. Then, further in, a weighted silence enveloped us.
Sculptures Hidden in the Pines
Narrow gravel paths radiated out from a large central sculpture into little stands of pine and fir that concealed incredibly poignant figures. These sculptures touched on various themes from different wars, and tributes to all those who have served in or died in those wars. The mood was at once somber, the gravitas measurable.
Perhaps the same feeling as when I visited the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, DC, many years ago.
A Veteran’s Vision Brought to Life in Steel
Eleven sculptures, a labyrinth, and a Wall of Remembrance, the brainchild and painstaking work of artist Dennis Smith, a Vietnam War veteran. His aim: “a living tribute, to many fallen, considering war, and the effects of war, a place for reflection & remembrance, a place for healing & reconciliation, dedicated to all veterans, a place for everyone.”
Walking the Garden’s Emotional Pathways
Walking each of the dusty, gravelly paths, the appearance of the sculptures seemed almost a surprise. Though the air was around 32°F, I did not want to rush through the landscape.
From one sculpture to the next, taking in these larger-than-life, abstractly elongated steel figures, I was moved by the emotive power each contained. Each had the power to hold my attention, to slow me down, and asked me to digest what each artistic endeavor meant for the artist and the viewer.
Each installment of the Living Memorial Sculpture Garden was named, each with a solemn, thought-provoking subject. You did not need to be a veteran of war to understand the raw emotion that the abstract, rough, and rusted steel figures elicited.
Memorable Works that Stir the Soul
Our recent major wars were depicted with an indelible image. Mr. Smith’s rendition of that famous Pulitzer Prize-winning photograph of the Marines raising the flag on Mt. Suribachi, Iwo Jima, was portrayed with all the brutal, muscular weariness and determination of those soldiers in the photograph. I felt a chill and something very akin to a lump in my stomach.
Looking down at the base of many of the plaques, visitors had left flags, buttons, beads, and many other offerings honoring the pain and suffering of those both known and unknown. It made me feel that those, even in long-ago wars, were still remembered with love, dignity, and respect.
Hope Alongside Heartbreak
Though many had a somber and sobering quality, some carried lighter-hearted themes, too. The joy of a homecoming, the joy of music or dance, the joy of the company of others. It was good to be reminded that even in the midst of brutality, there is always hope in humanity, a redeeming beauty to be found.
The Forgotten and The Nurses
The Forgotten and The Nurses resonated with me the most.
The Forgotten, a much larger-than-life figure holding outstretched arms as though ready to carry away a fallen soldier. I clearly felt the guilt and sadness of men who weren’t able to carry out the ones who were left behind. The unbearable weight of the empty arms, gosh, it left a lump in my throat.
The Nurses depicted two males and a female carrying a soldier on a stretcher, the concrete beneath them stained red as though with blood from the wounded man. All too often, women’s roles in times of war go unnoticed.
I had recently read the fiction book The Women, based upon nurses who served during the Vietnam War and how they had to fight to get recognition and veteran status once home. While they might not have seen brutal hand-to-hand combat, they had to deal with its horrendous aftermath. Mr. Smith clearly understood the toll it took on wartime nurses, giving them their due credit.
A Quiet Space that Speaks Volumes
Valor, courage, determination, anguish, sorrow, loss, joy, hope, remembrance. It was all there, quietly speaking volumes to those patient enough to walk through and listen.
Final Thoughts
If you’re ever near Weed, California, whether you’re chasing mountain trails, road-tripping north, or just making a quick detour, don’t miss the Living Memorial Sculpture Garden. Bring some time, bring a jacket, and bring a quiet mind.
And if you’re traveling in a Grit Overland Link 148, know that it’ll get you there, wherever there ends up being. That’s the magic of van life. That’s the journey we’re on.
