Day Nine: Open Range -- Loose Stock

We saw these two folks when we checked into the motel last night in Pinedale, WY -- and then again this morning at breakfast. They are in their 70s and are "cruising" for a month. Love their spirit. Long-time friends from Missouri and Arkansas, they are traveling the areas south of the Canadian border throughout the West with no particular plans past the next day of traveling. (We can relate!) After graciously posing for this picture ("all geared up" as they said), their delight riding out was palpable. Yea for them!

Okay, we made some executive decisions today subject to change. We were heading towards the Grand Canyon, Santa Fe, and Taos before going to Oklahoma; however, because of a number of reasons, we are going to Cortez, CO to see the Cliff Dwellers at Mesa Verde and to Durango with the intent of riding the train that runs between Durango and Silverton. (It is the one featured in the movie Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid with Robert Redford and Paul Newman.) At least that was our intent this morning -- and it is again tonight...but it wasn't this afternoon. Our plans continue to be flexible and subject to change....

Driving out of Pinedale we saw llama ranches, herds of elk, a few buffalo, many oil wells, natural gas wells, cows, and the exquisite Wind River Mountains (almost a rival for the Tetons) that followed us far down the valley. (My next-door neighbors in Columbia love these mountains having spent a few years in this area.) We never fail to marvel at the landscape -- even after miles and miles. We will go over a ridge and it will appear that we are suddenly transported to another world. Quick changes. Along this road in central Wyoming there are sporadic groupings of trailers for oil and gas workers. This area appears to be going through a "boom" -- the government leases the land to farmers but retains the mineral rights. Rich idea.
When we reached the proverbial fork in the road today, we went straight! Straight through interior Wyoming, a section of Utah (no joke!), and south towards Durango. We have ridden the tops of plateaus feeling as though we could almost touch the sky. Along the roads are posted many signs stating "Open Range -- Loose Stock." Frankly, we saw little loose stock on the open range (except us). We rather felt like loose stock on the open range. :-) Perhaps our ambitious decision to trek into these hinter lands was not the smartest route since we rode miles and miles with no signs of civilization -- but it turned out to be a fortuitous one. Here's why....

After crossing Flaming Gorge Dam and Reservoir in Utah -- incredibly beautiful high in the mountains in the middle of NOWHERE and part of the Colorado River Project (so the sign read) -- our car began to overheat. At that very moment the first gas station and the first signs of human beings in the past couple of hours suddenly appeared in front of us. Wow. After allowing the car to cool down and adding a little coolant (just one of the multitudinous supplies my traveling companion stocked in her car), we proceeded up the mountain again. Heading down the other side of the mountain with nine advertised switchbacks, the car again began to over heat. And, YES, we were driving with our gears and not the brakes -- with the air conditioning off. So, there we were on a pull-off area with the hood opened to allow some cooling. Using "Olive" (the trusty GPS intimately involved in this trip) to look for the nearest garage or transmission facility, the first business name that popped on the screen was Christensen Transmission Services in Vernal, Utah, the first town in the valley at the bottom of this mountain. Less than a minute later while we were discussing which potential number to call in Vernal, we heard a car pull up behind us. Here we sat -- two women alone in a crippled car -- listening to the measured crunching of the gravel as we knew someone was approaching our car. As I took a deep breath and turned to face whomever was just inches away, I did a double take. The guy standing to my left was wearing a Christensen Transmission Services work shirt. SERIOUSLY. We were almost freaked out (as the kids say). This nice young man checked out the situation and said that if we wanted, he would either tow the car in or we could drive to his place of business and he would follow us down the mountain to be sure we were all right. We could not believe it. Looking at the GPS with this name and suddenly the guy appeares? He was...like an angel to us!!! (It was either "The Twilight Zone" or "Touched by an Angel" time.)

The short version of the rest of this story is that Cody (our new angel -- definitely!) and his boss (whose family came from South Carolina three generations ago) worked on the car for three hours and fixed the problem. We were considering our options and the fact that we may be stuck in Vernal, Utah for a few days waiting for a part to arrive -- remember, we were near nothing out here in Utah! We had just about decided to abort the remaining trip and head home towards Oklahoma City (which would have suited me at this point not trusting the car...but we still had MILES to go). In the end, these two mechanics charged less than one hundred dollars and crafted a temporary fix to the problem. Incredible. The nicest folks -- should have taken a picture of them. The young girl who worked in their office told us she had never been out of that valley -- and we could believe that! This is the area in which many dinosaurs have been found. There is a town just down the road named Dinosaur and the Dinosaur National Park is here...so, perhaps some of you may have been in this area before?

Our revised route took us around Douglas Pass through beautiful valleys criss-crossing pristine streams. Again, much drilling going on in this area! Eventually, we made it to I-70, a very welcomed relief after all our twists and turns, with the final destination for today being Grand Junction, CO. The drive through the walls of red-rocked striated formations followed the Colorado River. Coming out of that canyon through a tunnel, we emerged facing the majestic mesas of Mesa County. These are ohmygosh incredible...one after another on both sides of the road for as far as the eye can see. This brought us into Grand Junction. After a quick trip to Taco Bell, we are ready for a good night's sleep...and thankful for safe travels and kind folks along the way. Phew!

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P. S. Today I received a comment from a person in Bozeman who read my blog and corrected my comments about the name change in Jackson. Our source for that initial info was a person in a convenience store where we stopped for fuel in Jackson (probably not the town historian). Jim MacDonald offers the following clarifications:

"One point of information, Jackson didn't change its name from Jackson Hole. The town has always been named Jackson. Jackson Hole refers to the entire valley that stretches from the town north toward Yellowstone. It's the valley, and the Tetons are the mountains that rise suddenly from the valley called Jackson Hole. It was named after a member of the Rocky Mountain Fur Company, and the "hole" basically refers to the areas where trappers trapped ... a particular trapper's area was his hole.

Of course, to make the town distinct from the many other places called Jackson, it helps to market the whole town as Jackson Hole, and that's why you see it on all the t-shirts. Generally, locals call the town Jackson, and tourists call it Jackson Hole."

We learn something every day. Thanks, Jim.

Day Eight: When you get to a fork in the road, take it.

This day began in Gardiner, MT just outside the north gate of Yellowstone Park (near the Hot Springs). The view from our motel was glorious with the snow capped mountain looming across the valley. As we entered the park, we again saw the HERD of elk just hanging out on the median near the entrance, under trees, all around a cabin, and in the front yard of the medical clinic. They were oblivious to the cars and people. Quite serene.

Our primary goal today was to see Old Faithful since I'm the only one I know who hasn't seen it -- and it did not disappoint. After not seeing many cars on the roads all week, I now know where they all were...at Yellowstone waiting for the Old Faithful show. For this one show, there were people rows deep in a semi-circle to see the "blow." The Ranger said that our show was predicted to go off at 2:47 pm --and he was really close. Prior to "the show," several smaller geyser around the back area teased the crowd with little geysers before Old Faithful did his thing. Son Clayton worked at Yellowstone one summer and loved it. I understand why. Know he was in his element with the fly fishing -- there were fisherman in streams throughout the park. Wanted to jump out and join them. (One of my favorite days of all time was spent with Clayton standing in a trout stream south of Fairplay, CO fly fishing -- during Clayton's four-year sojourn in Breckenridge. Ready to go again!) The views belonged on calender pages....

They are doing road construction work on many sections of the park -- new lodge and inn, upgrades of informational facilities, and roadwork. Lots of roadwork. (For those of you traveling in this area any time soon, there are numerous work delays towards the south entrance to the park. Check with the rangers for updates.) Since we had no definite schedule we decided to head south towards Jackson and the Tetons; we meandered our way towards the south entrance of the park -- and we weren't disappointed. The drive from Yellowstone to Jackson (formerly known as Jackson Hole -- changed the name a couple of years ago...who knew?) was worth the trip. We felt compelled to stop at every "turn out" or "pull out" to take yet another picture and gaze at the majesty of these mountains. (I don't know, Lang, but this drive is almost up there with the Beartooth Scenic Highway.) This truly looks like the Alps.

Okay, I've found another potential home. Jackson, Wyoming. (Somehow it sounds incomplete -- liked Jackson Hole better. The airport is still called Jackson Hole.) What a fun town!! Son James told me to check out the Silver Dollar Bar for Harrison and Calista. :-) I can see the draw for the area. Fun shopping opportunities, restaurants, and lots of local color. The little main square has a huge antler arch. Such atmosphere here.

Since my traveling companion is limited in her walking ability (and not crazy about bars and pubs), we continued south to Pinedale, a small community that is becoming a boom town because of what is under the ground. The Wind River Mountains were to our left all along this drive -- spectacular range. There are few businesses in this town with a population of 1,200. (The "roughnecks" come in on the weekend from the oil and gas fields, so we were told -- a "wild west" experience.) Still, we had our choice of five brand new motels. Having spent several nights at Best Westerns on this trip (with good breakfasts included), we chose this again. We are miles from anywhere but that is fine -- on another adventure tomorrow.

Have to tell you about two guys who pulled up on "bikes" as we were unloading for this evening. We are used to bikers since they are out in legions this summer. These two fellows had gorgeous Harleys and fine leather saddle bags. When they pulled off their helmets, we saw two older gentlemen with white hair (hey, they had hair) just full of life excited about their day's ride. Wish I had taken their picture -- if we see them in the morning, I'll ask them to "pose." Can just imagine the fun they are having.

In talking today, we decided to re-think the previous plans of going to see the Grand Canyon and Santa Fe/Taos (having done this before) and take the fork in the road -- to visit Mesa Verde in Cortez, CO and Durango before turning east towards Oklahoma City. More on that tomorrow.

Days Six and Seven: Greetings from Yellowstone National Park (and we finally know why the bear went over the mountain)

Before beginning, I have some quick comments: Thanks again to Kristin for her assistance (and I can use all I can get!) with some blog glitches. Also, we lovingly named the hand-held GPS we are using on this trip "Olive" -- and there are a few of you who will appreciate that. :-) The reception for cell phones and air cards has been sketchy at best preventing any blogging. So, I'll do my best to recall these past two days. Pictures may have to be added later. Something keeps closing my work. AND, I'm running out of superlative adjectives to describe the sweeping vistas and mountains. Help!

Saturday morning we said goodbye to Custer, SD and the Black Hills area (regretfully) setting out for our next must-see, Devils Tower in Wyoming. But first we had to check out Deadwood -- famous for all the outlaws who hung out there -- and Spearfish before trekking off I-90 for miles and miles and miles northward in the middle of nowhere.



Our first glimpse of Devils Tower was from many miles away -- somewhat surreal in the distant landscape. Imagine our surprise when we arrived at the National Park and found dozens of folks already walking around this monument. (Note: For any of you so inclined and who are of the "senior" status, we can buy a Senior Pass for $10 good for a LIFE TIME (!!!) of admittances to National Parks. Cool, huh?)

But I digress...for those of you "young" enough to remember Spielberg's Close Encounter of the Third Kind, you will appreciate this monument -- actually the very first National Monument...thanks to Teddy Roosevelt. Yep, it looks just like the movie. Kept waiting to hear the do-do-do-do-do-do-do refrain. (There were DVDs of this movie for sale in the local stores outside the park.) Visitors to this park can hike around the monument (about a 45-minute walk) or hike many of the well-marked trails. The Native Americans still consider this monument sacred and congregate in June yearly for ceremonies. During June, climbers are asked to not climb the rock in deference to the ceremonies. Near the entrance of the park are more prairie dogs than I have ever seen. Probably thousands in little burrows. I just imagined the pleasure that the pioneer children might have felt first spotting these little creatures while on their seemingly endless journeys through this area.

After back-tracking to I-90, we headed west not sure of our destination that day. The terrain and landscape were constant amazements. We would go from rock formations to desert-like mounds to rolling lush hills to plains to basins. Check out a map. Additionally, we have seen the most beautiful horses everywhere along the trip. Today there were herds of these exquisite creatures on most vistas -- many looked like horses for the Indians.

I have a new appreciation for the long-haulers who travel this route along I-90 having seen winter scenes on television. Miles and miles of miles and miles always on the look-out for wildlife...particularly the ones adjacent to the roadways. Suddenly, we saw snow-covered mountains looming large and thought it a little late in the day to continue on. We got through that first set of mountains (The Big Horns) but decided to call it a day in Sheridan, Wyo. The Best Westerns upon which we have chanced have wonderful breakfasts -- highly recommend them on your travels.

Except for the ubiquitous bikers who are EVERYWHERE in this area, Sheridan was a quiet place. We missed Buffalo Bill Days (they concluded a few hours before we arrived) complete with re-enactments of the pony express riders' abilities and sharp shooting.

This morning we arose with Red Lodge, MT as the potential goal. My next-door neighbors, Jessie and Lang, lived in Lander, WY but traveled these two states extensively -- think they would return tomorrow if they could figure out the details. Lang insisted that the drive between Red Lodge and Cooke City on the Beartooth Scenic Highway should not be missed. Charles Kuralt called this the most beautiful highway in the "Lower 48" -- hey, how could we miss it?

However, to get to this location we first had to cross The Big Horn Mountains. Wow, oh wow. What a route. While we were in low gear for much of the trip, the experience and sights were amazing. Someone has placed markers on the layers of rocks in The Big Horns stating the geological periods and ages. Some of the signs read that the rocks are 2.5 billions years old...some ONLY 20 millions years of age.

Coming out of The Big Horns we passed through so many changes of terrain that went on and on and on -- sometimes with NO signs of life (human or otherwise). Grim but fascinating.

Oh, true story. Not far from Red Lodge, MT is a small town named Belfrey. We passed in front of the school and saw the sign stating "Belfrey High School -- Home of the Bats" -- oh, please!! Can you believe that? Why would "they" do this to kids? Can't you imagine the kinds of taunts they must receive in competitions? Poor babies. "Hi, I'm a Bat from Belfrey." Oh, dear.

Just up the mountain from here is Red Lodge, a ski resort catering to the Billings, MT crowd. Quaint and friendly. A local recommended the Bridgecreek Kitchen and Wine Bar -- great local color and excellent cuisine. After a leisurely lunch, we headed towards the Bluetooth Scenic Highway, a 55-mile stretch across what at times feels like the Swiss Alps, the Grand Canyon, and a moonscape (way above the tree line).

Along the way are several pullouts -- we might call them overlooks -- for viewing and picture-taking. There were many switchbacks, stretches of steep grades, and way too many hairpin turns with no guardrails (on the ascension from Red Lodge -- coming down into Cooke City is a much easier ride). I have to admit two things: it was as beautiful as Lang promised and much more than an "E" ticket ride at Disney World (you have to be of a "certain age" to remember that as well). As soon as these Internet connections permit, I'll put up these pictures as well. For those of you burning up at home, let me say that we saw glaciers and remnants of a recent snow fall while on this scenic highway.

One of the Forest Service employees (a delightful young lady from outside Knoxville, TN who told her father that she has found a new home in these mountains) told me that it snows at least once a month during the summer. During the winter they get 300 feet of snow as a rule. The owner of "Top of the World" -- a little grocery/goods store near the top of this range -- confirmed this fact. We had to get out of the car and make a snowball to prove this point to ourselves. The glaciers gleamed against and between the rocks and trees spilling over many vistas.

Well, when we got to Cooke City (relieved and exhilarated), my traveling companion deemed the little town TOO rustic so we proceeded to Silver Gate. Still too rustic. Hey, folks. We are in the mountains, right? Anyway, the next stop was the northeast entrance of Yellowstone National Park. The Rangers at the gate -- after showing them our "Senior-Good-for-Life" passes and telling us there was no room at the inn or ANY place in the park for the night -- proceeded to quiz us on our governor's current situation. They did give us a suggestion to try Gardiner, just outside the north entrance to the park.

So, we proceeded to meander through the park. This concentration of visible wildlife in the Lamar Valley (aka Valley of Eden) afforded sights including herds of buffalo (but we have already had our up-close-and-personal times with buffalo on the road!), a group of elks, cougars, a grizzly eating a dead buffalo, a baby bear up a tree, the business end of a HUGE elk with a massive rack, and a brown bear meandering along the road. After all, it was supper time and the animals were everywhere particularly in the Lamar Valley. (We actually saw no wildlife driving from the Old Faithful area to the south entrance -- except for the occasional chipmunks scurrying across the road.)

After one last attempt to see if there might be a vacancy at the Mammoth Hot Springs Lodge at the north entrance (to no avail), we headed back out of the park down the mountain to Gardiner. Found a very nice room in the second place we asked and collapsed. What a day! What a day....

Day One: Somewhere along the line I lost this BLOG!

Day Five: The Indians didn't win this time

We left this morning intent on visiting Wounded Knee and the Pine Ridge Reservation. I was not clear initially what the push was to go to the reservation -- it is not a tourist destination as we discovered -- but I learned along the way.

We drove through three National Parks today. The first one is in the Black Hills -- Wind Cave National Park where after seeing a sign that said "Do not approach buffalo" we came over a rise and encountered herds of buffalo grazing across an incredible vista of rolling green hills and big sky. Think Dances with Wolves meets Little House on the Prairie. And now the age-old question has been answered for me: "Why did the buffalo cross the road?" Simple. To get to the other side, of course. Some of the buffalo grazing next to the road would suddenly decide to cross the road to where the rest of the herd was...meandering across with no concern for vehicles. Of course, we were going slowly but still! This mother buffalo had twins! (Everywhere we have gone, fields have been full of babies -- horses, cattle, goats, sheep...and even buffalo.)

This "big fellow" and many of his buddies were grazing just feet from the road. No problem staying in the car to take photos! Guess I wasn't expecting to see so many herds of buffalo -- although all the markets in the little towns through which we pass advertise Grade A Dakota Buffalo meat for sale and it is on all the menus. Very lean meat.

I did feel as though we were in a movie with these huge animals roaming about. The other thing that struck me -- having seen too many Westerns as a child -- is that I half expected to see lines of warriors appearing suddenly along any given ridge as we drove. This is a beautiful expansive area.

After a brief stop at the Red Cloud Indian School to view their art exhibit (which we saw advertised on a sign), we proceeded towards Wounded Knee on the Pine Ridge Reservations. The roads had little traffic -- the Indians have few cars. While these Lakotas have hundreds of thousands of acres, they have no source for income. More on that in a minute. Well, the road signs saying how to get to Wounded Knee are adequate; however, when we actually got to the site, there was not one marker anywhere to say that this is Wounded Knee. Nothing. The picture here shows the entrance road to the site coming off the main road. Unmarked. Rutted. Do YOU see a sign? A few hundred feet up an incline is a small rarely used vestige of a Catholic church (that has nothing to do with Wounded Knee) and a graveyard primarily for the four major families in this tribe -- and a single marker honoring a number of chiefs. Three young high school students poorly dressed (one with her baby) were standing at the entrance of the cemetery waiting for a cousin to come with some handmade items they might sell to an infrequent visitor who happened to wander in (such as we were). They said that they had no transportation and nothing to do on the "rez." They have no cars or money. No buses run through this area. There are NO towns close by. We were WAY OUT in the middle of nowhere. They have no prospects for their futures unless they leave the "rez." I asked about the events of Wounded Knee and they replied, "Oh, you mean the massacre?" One pointed out the area just a few feet down the hill by the stream. He didn't say anything else. We drove through the "rez" (south to north) and saw nothing but abject poverty. Very, very sad living conditions (if you can call that living).

We did have another interesting encounter on the "rez." While at the Red Cloud Indian School, we noticed a flier for a restaurant called Bette's Kitchen. I asked one of the workers at the exhibit about it and she said, "Oh, yes. That is REALLY good." She gave us the impression that Bette's Kitchen was THE place to go...so we went. Hmmm. Another sign issue. We were told that there would be many signs along the way. Zilch. Now remember, we are way out on the "rez" -- with a general idea of the location. Finally, with the assistance of the GPS we saw Black Elk Road and the sign for Bette's Kitchen. Double hmmm. Straight up a severely rutted incline in the distance was a structure that vaguely resembled the picture on the flier...so, we continued upward somewhat warily. This was NOT a restaurant but someone's dilapidated double wide with broken down cars and machine parts in the yard. There was a sign that said "Yes, we are open" so we proceeded forward on this "adventure." A mangy dog loped lazily towards us offering wet welcomes as we ascended the steps into the trailer. Sure enough. This is Bette's home and you eat in her kitchen. We entered through the laundry room and sat at her dinette and had a cup of chicken and rice soup in a Styrofoam cup along with a piece of fry bread and a bottle of water. The soup was actually quite good -- the fry bread had been made a few hours early (obviously). Bette and her niece were very gracious but it felt like we were intruding. However, they did say that they had 75 people on a tour bus the day before -- I have NO idea how a bus made it up that hill or why they would bring a tour to this trailer. Still, I have to give it to these two women; at least they were being a little entrepreneurial in this abyss of poverty. On the walls of this home were dozens of pictures -- of chiefs in ceremonial dress, lttle girls in tutus at recitals, school pics, young men and women in uniform who had served in the Armed Forces, and many family shots. The most outstanding thing about this trailer kitchen/restaurant (besides the fact that it is the only game in town) is the view. Oh my gosh. Spectacular vistas of rock buttes that line one side of this valley for as far as you can see. As we made our way gingerly down the rutted hill, we both were more than a little depressed for these proud people and their plight in life thanks to our government.

The drive through the Pine Ridge Reservation led us to the Badlands National Park. We went from rolling lush green hills to a moon landscape with mounds and pillars and mesas and rims of what appears to be white sand structuress. We drove through the middle just marveling at the unique formations. Some of it looks like the Grand Canyon. Then suddenly we were back to the lush rolling farm lands as we exited the park. Rather felt for the two manned U. S. Park Ranger Stations at each end of the park. They are stuck in the middle of all of this with no stores, no cell phone service, and precious little traffic with whom they might talk. I can see why it is called the "badlands."

As soon as we left this area, we began to see signs of civilization again -- and the greening of the landscape. We weren't too far from Rapid City. On the homeward bound leg of this day's journey, we decided to take an alternate route back to Custer -- through the Custer State Park. That was definitely a great decision and perhaps my favorite part of the trip. This is a beautiful park dotted with streams and small lakes. Saw many folks with their tents as well as a couple of very nice hotels for those who prefer this type of "camping." But the wildlife was the best. Again we encountered right along the road, numerous sightings of deer, wild turkeys, mountain goats (in the middle of the road obviously grazing on an earlier "road kill"), and more buffalo (again in the middle of the road and along side vehicular traffic). Magnificent. Yet, we had to ask ourselves WHY would a sane person pitch a pup tent beside a stream knowing that these huge buffalo can wander in at will?

Oh, one thing I keep forgetting to mention -- and, Eileen, I think about you everytime I see these sights -- horses are everywhere. On ranches, in fields, in large and small pens, or roaming the rolling hills. Beautiful horses. Many look like what we saw in old westerns -- painted. Others look like thoroughbreds. Around every corner and in every valley are these beautiful creatures. (And we were only three miles from our motel in Custer when we saw the last group of buffalo.)

Tonight we returned to the Crazy Horse Memorial Mountain for the "Legends in Light" show as well as a night blast on the mountain celebrating the 83rd birthday of the sculptor's wife who was present. There must have been thousands of cars for this event -- and they even served cake to this huge crowd! Wow. There are only two night blasts per year -- on the birthdays of the sculptor and his wife (June 26th and September 6th). We were fortunate to see this "blast."

In the morning, we are leaving the Custer area and heading towards Devils Tower, WY...and beyond. It is fortuitous that we decided to stay in Custer and not Rapid City as was the original (flying-by-the-seat-of-our-pants unplanned plan). We are right in the middle of everything with so much ambiance and beauty. It is amazing to think that this area was not even known by the white man until Lt. Col. George A. Custer (age 34) led an expedition of 1,200 men to the Black Hills in 1874. The expedition lasted 60 days covering 880 miles. To put things in historical perspective, Custer's expedition took place a quarter of a century after the discovery of gold in California. Lewis and Clark had gone home 68 years earlier. The Union Pacific and the telegraphs had connected the East Cost with the West Coast. Steamboats paddled on the Missouri River and Yellowstone Park was getting gready to greet tourists. The invention of the telephone was less than two years away.

Check out what Custer brought along on his expedition: "1,200 troopers, including 10 cavalry and two infantry companies; an engineer and artillery detachment; 80 civilians (including two miners, three newspaper correspondents, a botanist, geologist, engineer, Indian scouts, a female colored cook); a 16-piece band mounted on white horses; a photographer; 110 wagons each pulled by six mules; 1,000 horses; 300 heads of cattle; three Gatling guns, and about a dozen greyhounds. "

The Black Hills has long been a sacred place for the Lakota Nation. One day I hope you have the opportunity to experience this place.

Now -- onward to Devils Tower (think Spielberg's Close Encounters of the Third Kind -- do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do).

Ah, one more plug for Custer, SD. They have THE BEST pie store called "The Purple Pie Place" with varieties of homemade pies like I have never seen. Oh, so good.

Later, Friends.

Day Four: Cowboys vs Indians (and the Indians win!)

Before I get started today, let me thank Kristin for her guidance in tweaking this blog and inserting pictures. This is my first attempt at blogging -- I was working in an incorrect window -- I'm learning as I go...a constant work-in-progress as well. Now I need to figure out how to delete the right column so I can widen this posting screen. Kristin, help again. :-)

Day Three: Custer, SD

We are here at our goal -- the Crazy Horse and Mt. Rushmore area...in Custer in the Black Hills/Badlands. Impressive. This really is beautiful country.

We got up this morning in Sioux Falls and began our trek across this state on I-90. Stopped in Mitchell (home of the Corn Palace and the late Senator McGovern) to see a prehistoric Indian site that is under excavation by a group from Exeter, England. This site dates to the Early Middle Missouri Cultural Complex in A. D. 1000. Interesting. My traveling companion being a Native American is reading every piece of info on the Indians as we go along -- and there are many in this area -- so it takes a little time to move her along. :-)

Passed by Winner, SD -- remember the young rancher who won the lottery a few weeks ago? Stopped in Wall, SD. Ever heard about this place? If you have seen a South of the Border sign along I-95, then multiply that by a thousand. Literally. Additionally, the Wall Drug Store which is the attraction (one very long block with a multitude of shopping opportunities) has managed to get notices in countries around the world. So, we have now been there, done that, and didn't need a tee shirt. :-) Check them out on the Internet sometime. Lots of Native American/Western paraphrenalia manufactured in China for the tourists. Glad we did that -- once. From there we had a straight shot towards Rapid City -- and when I say straight, I mean straight! No turns in the road. Straight.

Today the trip was long but an experience. The plains are sweeping and majestic with a vibrant green color that reaches the bottom of the sky at the horizon. Another big sky state. One of our favorite sights today was coming over a ridge and suddenly seeing the Missouri River stretched out in both directions. Just imagine the pioneers figuring out how to cross this expanse with their wagons, live stock, provisions, and families. Still thinking about the film we saw at the Trails Museum in Council Bluffs, Iowa on the four major trails the pioneers chose and many of their trials and tribulations along the way. We were happy to see signs of our own trail's end with the Badlands looming in the distance this afternoon.

Day Two -- On the road in South Dakota (finally)....

After weeks of conversations (supporting A T&T -- they aren't another "too-big-to-fail company," right?) and planning, we are FINALLY on our way. My OKC friend picked me up in Springfield, MO Monday (late afternoon) and we drove to the far side of Kansas City to stop for the night. The landscape was picturesque -- rolling farm land and beautiful rock formations through which some of the roads had been cut. (These exquisite rock formations also line the highway to Branson which is south of Springfield, MO.) Some of our family members who came to Springfield for the wedding, flew out of Kansas City -- a long drive from Springfield.

Before leaving the Springfield, MO connection, I must comment on a few things. "A good time was had by all" at the wedding of my niece, Rachel (a California girl transplanted to Missouri). This joyous occasion brought together most of our family and many fun friends from California, Florida, South Carolina, and Switzerland. Rachel's mother, Eileen, did a tremendous job coordinating (from afar) this occasion -- and thanks, Sue, for all your assistance as well in coordinating the hotel's side. It was a treat for me to be included with all the families and friends. We spent many hours laughing and floating in the pool -- when our services were not required. The last time we saw the happy couple was on Sunday as they headed off together to begin their new life...starting with a honeymoon. We wish them all the best!

For much of our journey on Tuesday we saw bluffs on at least one side of the valleys through which we drove. The highway follows the Lewis and Clark Expedition Trail. So much history! Very scenic. At one point we saw huge turbines lining the crest of a bluff -- almost surreal against the outline. Impressive. We did pass over the edge of the Harry S. Truman Reservoir on our trip yesterday -- very flooded...could see the tops of the trees along the shoreline. All through Kansas we saw corn fields, family farms, silos, and great vistas. Had to take one side trip today in Council Bluffs -- a museum celebrating the four major trails pioneers chose for their trips westward. Many pioneers wintered in Council Bluffs and began their journeys from this point. (And, yes, there are real bluffs.) The museum had wonderful and heart-wrenching stories and pictures from pioneers who made the trek from the Midwest to the West. Additionally, I had not realized that Council Bluffs, Iowa is across the river from Omaha, Nebraska.

Sioux Falls, SD appears to be a "happening place." We landed in town last night ("without reservations" --remember that is how we are traveling?) to find all the motels/hotels filled (and there are lots!). Seems there are soccer, baseball, golfing, and bands from all over in tournaments and competitions here this week. We did manage a room -- weren't too worried actually. At supper last night a distinguished couple (grandparents with grand kids) sat across from us. The gentleman was dressed in a Tommy Bahama-type shirt but he could have been on the plains in a different kind of dress. Classic Native American. Very striking. Looked like a chief.

The drive Tuesday was easy. Wednesday we will be driving west across SD to the far end. If you look at the map, Sioux Falls is on one end and Rapid City is on the other. In between, we will pass through Mitchell and Wall. If you don't know about Wall, think South of the Border ads. Folks with whom I talked before leaving on this trip said that Wall is a definite stop. Think it is famous for the last place to get FREE ice water before crossing something -- with lots of touristy hoopla. I'll know more about this later. :-)

(In the meanwhile, since this is my first blog, I need help. Perhaps one of you techies out there can tell me how to continue posting new blogs AND save the pictures for that day. When I post new commentaries, that is easy. Just don't want to lose the pictures from that day -- which I managed to do with this day's entry.)

Pre-Trip Musings

"Do you want to...?" is how it usually begins. And I go for it every time -- even before the destination is announced. My long-time friend from Oklahoma knows this. She has called in the past saying, "Do you want to go to China?" or "Do you want to go to Alaska?" When we were younger our trips weren't so grand...usually 18-hour day trips around SC on our days off from camp in the mountains of NC.

This time she started something like this..."No self-respecting Indian [she is Chickasaw and Choctaw primarily] should die without seeing Crazy Horse?" I knew what was coming next. "Do you want to go see him with me?" She should have been a lawyer; she knew the answer to that question before she asked. Of course. That is the genesis of our "big adventure" for the summer of 2009. Our goal is Crazy Horse, Mt. Rushmore, the Badlands, and the immediate surroundings in South Dakota.

The sculptor Korczak Ziolkowski began this mountain carving of Crazy Horse in 1948; he had worked on Mount Rushmore in 1924. In 1939, Ziolkowski received a letter from Chief Henry Standing Bear, which stated in part "My fellow chiefs and I would like the white man to know that the red man has great heroes, too."

The memorial is a non-profit undertaking, and receives no federal or state funding. On two occasions the federal government offered Ziolkowski $10 million, but he turned the offers down. Ziolkowski felt the project was more than just a mountain carving, and he feared that his plans for the broader educational as well as cultural goals for the memorial would be left behind with federal involvement. Ziolkowski died in 1982. The face of Crazy Horse was completed and dedicated in 1998. (Not without controversy, some American Indian activists -- most notably Russell Means -- have criticized this sculpture as exploitative of Lakota culture and Crazy Horse's memory as well as desecrating sacred ground.)

The sculpture's final dimensions are planned to be 641 feet wide and 563 feet high. The head of Crazy Horse will be 87 feet high; by comparison, the heads of the four U.S. Presidents at Mount Rushmore are each 60 feet high. The monument has been in progress since 1948 and is still far from completion. If finished, it will be the world's largest statue. (Check out the picture at the bottom of this page -- it shows the actual progress as of June 2008.)

Everything that follows will be lagniappe as we wend our way home (back to Oklahoma) tentatively through Montana, Wyoming, Colorado, Arizona, and New Mexico. If we decide we've had enough fun along the way before completing our aggressive itinerary (AAA estimates our trip to be around 3,500 miles), we'll just hang a left and head back to Oklahoma -- I'm flying home from there (thanks to son James and a buddy pass) -- and tackle the rest on another "great adventure."

Our trip begins in Springfield, MO on Sunday, June 21st after my niece's wedding on the 20th. My friend is driving over to meet me. Our first attraction will be Fantastic Caverns just outside Springfield. Then onward to South Dakota (with miles and miles of miles and miles along the way). If we see something of interest (such as the largest ball of yarn in the world -- we are easily amused), we'll probably be tempted to detour to it.

So, check us out along our journey...without reservations.