Earthship Le Van Gogh Diary
Days 13 & 14 - Gillette, WY and Rapid City, SD
Whoooeee! You can’t turn your head in this area without seeing some kind of natural beauty or some location immersed in history. As I was leaving Gillette I realized I was in Close-Encounters-of-a-Third-Kind territory and I was kind of hoping I’d see my very own spaceship come swooping down from the sky. It didn’t happen, but I saw the turn-off for Devil’s Tower and whimpered a little to myself. Whine. Later, Lea, later.
I also passed through Sundance, yes, the Sundance from whence the Sundance Kid received his name and he and Butch Cassidy and their gang hid out in the Hole-in-the-Wall cave from local (and not-so-local) lawmen. That cave and all the land around it are now a part of privately owned land but the owner will graciously give tours for those who wish. I wished but needed to push on, so I just whimpered a little more and kept my eyes on the road.
And in the little town of Buffalo, there is a really lovely building called the Occidental (“Western”) Hotel which is still in use as such. It was restored in the 1980’s and looks like it most likely did when it was first built in the early 1900’s. Before the building you see today existed came first the original hotel which started with a tent in 1880. This became a log building and didn’t emerge as the brick building you now see until 1901. It’s a pretty famous hotel and hosted the likes of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, Teddy Roosevelt, Calamity Jane, “Buffalo Bill” Cody and Owen Wister, author of ‘ The Virginian.” I haven’t read that particular book but I’m told it’s one of the most famous Western novels ever written. I’ll just have to take that on faith.
And then moving on into South Dakota comes the turnoff for Mount Rushmore (whiiinnne) and the Museum of Geology (Sharon in Georgia, you’d love this one!) which I longed to pull off for. All kinds of dinosaurs, and rocks and minerals from the Black Hills area and archaeological sites and, and… everything! I could spend hours exploring this museum and the local digs that are open to viewing for the public. And there’s also the Museum at Black Hills Institute which focuses primarily on fossil hunting and restoration of the dinosaurs they find. You’ll see Stan T. Rex at the museum, a fully restored and assembled skeleton of a Tyrannosaurus Rex, and many other kinds of dinosaurs, fossil fishes, reptiles, mammals, birds, and plants and a collection of invertebrates local to the area and meteorites and, and… Well, let’s just say that it’s a good thing I didn’t stop or I’d never make it to Georgia!
And there’s the beauty of the land on both sides of me as I drive. The colors are fantastic! You can’t really tell where one ends and the next one begins because they are all just blurred into each other. But the red of the mountains and the greens and yellows of northeast Wyoming change only a little as you enter South Dakota. There the mountains appear very far off and do look black from a distance; hence, the Black Hills description which is very apt for the view.
And there are the Badlands, an area of incredible geological changes that have resulted in the incredible shapes and colors now visible. The fossil beds are immense and of course there is a museum open to the public (well, let’s hope so!) and a fossil exhibit trail you can walk and lots of educators there to explain the Oligocene era which produced all these beautiful geological formations.
Lord, I could spend six months in this area and just barely dip into the history, culture and geological events that I enjoy so much. And when I come back, I’ll pretty much just camp out in the area for the non-snow months and explore to my heart’s content. Yippee! And that’s just this area! Throughout America there are natural beauties, and geological cultural history settings that I find so fascinating. If I’m bored at all it will be my own danged fault.
To segue into a different subject, I am still having difficulty picking up a wireless signal. Here in Rapid City I can’t even get a cell phone signal. Perhaps it’s just AT&T, with whom I have my account. (Actually, I met another man yesterday who likewise has AT&T and has problems logging on and using his cell phone, so I’m not alone.) And even if I do pick up a signal and even though it says the signal is strong, I frequently can’t access either Blogspot.com or Yahoo or Facebook so I’m simply not available to reach at certain times. My apologies for seeming to be just lazy about posting, but I’m writing as I go and uploading as I can.
Anyway, I’d better quit writing about the area before I just abandon my trip to Georgia and just camp out until the snow starts to fly.
Lessons Learned:
That Chopper likes cashews.
That is, she likes to lick them.
So I share.
That last night I didn’t have to turn on the furnace for the first time.
That I did have the air conditioner cranked from the time I hooked up until bedtime.
That this will likely continue as I head further south.
I’m not sure which is better - hot or cold.
Both have their goods and not-so-goods.
Oh, well.
That I actually passed someone on the highway yesterday!
That I’m not the slowest driver on I-90.
That my arms and hands ache from wrestling the steering wheel during gusty winds from Sheridan to Gillette.
That the topical ointment I bought to help relieve muscle pain doesn’t work worth a darn.
Ow.
Observations:
Three deer, two skunks and numerous unrecognizable heaps on the ground from being hit by cars. Sad.
Very alive antelope grazing right inside the town of Gillette on a grassy common.
A scattering of horses, possibly six in all, that were quite lovely. I asked a local man if those were Palomino’s and from my description, brown spots on white, he said yes. Only out here they were called “Painted” horses. Friend Jeanne, you’re the horse whisperer. Perhaps you can shed more enlightenment regarding these beautiful animals!
The same friend, Jeanne, also informed me that a pirogue is a hallowed out tree used for a canoe, which greatly clarifies why an area out west would be called Pirogue Hill. I was having a difficult time reconciling Italian potato-based dumplings with the local history. Since I more often than not can’t get an online signal to check this out for myself, I appreciate the input from friends.
Showing posts with label Wyoming. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Wyoming. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Day 12 - Sheridan, Wyoming
Earthship Le Van Gogh Diary
Day 12 - Sheridan, Wyoming
I crossed into Wyoming today - or yesterday, I should say because it’s 1:53 a.m. on the 13th as I write this. I also couldn't get a signal so this will be late. Sigh.
On the way to Sheridan I couldn’t help but stop at the Custer Museum where they had all kinds of artifacts on display from the Battle of Little Bighorn and in general from that era. Fascinating! There was an Indian war shirt and an Indian spirit shirt, the first being of tanned leather and embroidered heavily with beads, quills, and human hair. The spirit shirt was hand-sewn of some kind of textile that sure did last well! It looked like either cotton or linen and there were no tears or shredded areas. Pretty amazing. There were beads on this shirt also but on the front in faded dyes were faint outlines of spirit animals seen as guides to this particular warrior.
There were beaded moccasins for both men, women and children, all heavily and beautifully beaded on the top and bottom of the shoes. And beaded bags for everything from sewing quills to tee-pee skin holders. Gorgeous pipe bags and a lovely Sioux woman’s dress for ceremonial wear. This latter was also tanned leather and heavily and intricately beaded with fringe. Fantastic! There was also an arrow holder with a skunk skin on the front. I would not have wanted to be the woman who had to skin that baby!
Did you know that bull elk each have two ivory teeth in the back of their mouths? I didn’t either. These teeth were highly prized for wear by the Sioux and since it could be years before enough could be gathered to make a decent necklace, they came up with a way to dye regular elk teeth to look like the ivory teeth. These were also carved and shaped to the same form of the ivory teeth and voila! A fine looking ivory tooth necklace for both the Sioux warrior and his wife.
There were several large paintings by artists of that time depicting the battle in which Custer lost his life (as well as the lives of all of his men). One was pretty accurate and based on the account of Curly, an Indian scout who worked for Custer and his guys (I‘m not sure which tribe Curly was from). He witnessed Custer’s death and described it as thusly: Chief ...(heck, I just whited out the name of this Chief) was wrestling with Custer for his gun since Custer was earnestly trying to shoot him with it and finally got it away from him. He then bashed Custer on the head three times with the gun and shot him with it in the head and the heart. I can well imagine that Custer would have died from those wounds. Anyway, Curly, the scout, managed to slip out of the crowd, “borrow” a Sioux horse and get the heck out of Dodge. He was the only one of Custer’s group to survive.
One of the paintings was by artist who had taken great poetic license with the facts of the battle and had come up with a pretty hilarious version of what happened. The painting shows the vain Custer with golden locks tousled by the gentle breeze and standing nonchalantly in his officer’s dress uniform with a natty red cravat (which was not what he wore into battle) at the top of the hill, one hand on his hip, one leg bent with the shiny booted foot on a rock. He appears to be shooting every so often as the opportunity arises just for sport before he walks back to the Officer’s Mess to have a spot of lunch. Around him are his soldiers shooting poorly armed Indians who wield only hatchets and knives (not so, the Indians were shooting repeating Winchester rifles or the outcome would have been different). All of the Indians are bare-chested in the painting when in truth they were wearing their warrior shirts because of their belief that these provided a spiritual protection from the soldiers’ bullets. This wasn’t true either since a large number of Indians perished or were injured that day but it made the painting very, um, typical of the white man’s general lack of understanding then (and sometimes now) of the Indians’ culture and customs.
To polish off this rather silly painting, there is a chicken wandering around in the bottom right corner and looking rather confused, as it should, since no self-respecting chicken would have wandered that far from its coop which was waaaaaayyyyy far away from the battle scene. I doubt that the chicken survived that day either, especially since it was looking pretty healthy and appetizing. It was most likely dinner that night for one of the celebrating and victorious Indians. Not that there were any chickens of any kind any where near the battle scene, which makes it all the more silly for one to be there and adds nothing aesthetic to the painting except as a compositional balance, I suppose. Who knows what the artist was thinking but since very little else was accurate in the painting, why not throw in a chicken? Why gum up the work with accuracy, for cryin’ out loud!
Anyway, I tore myself out of the museum after an hour or so of examining all kinds of fun stuff and moved on toward Sheridan, leaving Montana behind me and a strong desire to return and visit the state in its entirety. Wyoming is just as beautiful and, of course, has the Yosemite National Park which I will return to later. The land is just plain gorgeous in this area and words are a poor substitute for the scenic wonders around me. And this is just around I-90. Just think of how much more beautiful it is off the beaten track!
Tomorrow I’ll be in Gillette, Wyoming, and then on to South Dakota. Too brief of a stop but indeed, if I stayed longer I might never leave. Onward I push, however, still planning the day when I can return and explore to my little heart’s content.
Lessons Learned:
That when you lean over the bed in the night to pour more water into the kitties’ bowl, make sure that it’s the water bowl you’re pouring into.
That the kitties won’t drink kitty food soup.
That I don’t blame them.
Yuck.
Observations:
Wyoming has roads that are a deep reddish-purple that matches the red in the hills on both sides of the highway. Coincidence? I think not. I hope not, anyhow.
While passing a field with many beautiful horses grazing, I see one lone mule standing in the middle of the herd and smiling at the sun.
A prairie dog up on the shoulder of the road sniffing around and just begging to be turned into road kill. Just like the scattering of smished bodies of his brethren seen periodically along the route.
What I thought were odd looking deer grazing were actually some kind of antelope from around these parts. I didn’t think deer came in that shape and color…
An older couple whom I have seen off and on throughout my voyage smile and wave to me as we pass each other in the campground. They are heading to Minnesota so we take the same path for a ways.
Day 12 - Sheridan, Wyoming
I crossed into Wyoming today - or yesterday, I should say because it’s 1:53 a.m. on the 13th as I write this. I also couldn't get a signal so this will be late. Sigh.
On the way to Sheridan I couldn’t help but stop at the Custer Museum where they had all kinds of artifacts on display from the Battle of Little Bighorn and in general from that era. Fascinating! There was an Indian war shirt and an Indian spirit shirt, the first being of tanned leather and embroidered heavily with beads, quills, and human hair. The spirit shirt was hand-sewn of some kind of textile that sure did last well! It looked like either cotton or linen and there were no tears or shredded areas. Pretty amazing. There were beads on this shirt also but on the front in faded dyes were faint outlines of spirit animals seen as guides to this particular warrior.
There were beaded moccasins for both men, women and children, all heavily and beautifully beaded on the top and bottom of the shoes. And beaded bags for everything from sewing quills to tee-pee skin holders. Gorgeous pipe bags and a lovely Sioux woman’s dress for ceremonial wear. This latter was also tanned leather and heavily and intricately beaded with fringe. Fantastic! There was also an arrow holder with a skunk skin on the front. I would not have wanted to be the woman who had to skin that baby!
Did you know that bull elk each have two ivory teeth in the back of their mouths? I didn’t either. These teeth were highly prized for wear by the Sioux and since it could be years before enough could be gathered to make a decent necklace, they came up with a way to dye regular elk teeth to look like the ivory teeth. These were also carved and shaped to the same form of the ivory teeth and voila! A fine looking ivory tooth necklace for both the Sioux warrior and his wife.
There were several large paintings by artists of that time depicting the battle in which Custer lost his life (as well as the lives of all of his men). One was pretty accurate and based on the account of Curly, an Indian scout who worked for Custer and his guys (I‘m not sure which tribe Curly was from). He witnessed Custer’s death and described it as thusly: Chief ...(heck, I just whited out the name of this Chief) was wrestling with Custer for his gun since Custer was earnestly trying to shoot him with it and finally got it away from him. He then bashed Custer on the head three times with the gun and shot him with it in the head and the heart. I can well imagine that Custer would have died from those wounds. Anyway, Curly, the scout, managed to slip out of the crowd, “borrow” a Sioux horse and get the heck out of Dodge. He was the only one of Custer’s group to survive.
One of the paintings was by artist who had taken great poetic license with the facts of the battle and had come up with a pretty hilarious version of what happened. The painting shows the vain Custer with golden locks tousled by the gentle breeze and standing nonchalantly in his officer’s dress uniform with a natty red cravat (which was not what he wore into battle) at the top of the hill, one hand on his hip, one leg bent with the shiny booted foot on a rock. He appears to be shooting every so often as the opportunity arises just for sport before he walks back to the Officer’s Mess to have a spot of lunch. Around him are his soldiers shooting poorly armed Indians who wield only hatchets and knives (not so, the Indians were shooting repeating Winchester rifles or the outcome would have been different). All of the Indians are bare-chested in the painting when in truth they were wearing their warrior shirts because of their belief that these provided a spiritual protection from the soldiers’ bullets. This wasn’t true either since a large number of Indians perished or were injured that day but it made the painting very, um, typical of the white man’s general lack of understanding then (and sometimes now) of the Indians’ culture and customs.
To polish off this rather silly painting, there is a chicken wandering around in the bottom right corner and looking rather confused, as it should, since no self-respecting chicken would have wandered that far from its coop which was waaaaaayyyyy far away from the battle scene. I doubt that the chicken survived that day either, especially since it was looking pretty healthy and appetizing. It was most likely dinner that night for one of the celebrating and victorious Indians. Not that there were any chickens of any kind any where near the battle scene, which makes it all the more silly for one to be there and adds nothing aesthetic to the painting except as a compositional balance, I suppose. Who knows what the artist was thinking but since very little else was accurate in the painting, why not throw in a chicken? Why gum up the work with accuracy, for cryin’ out loud!
Anyway, I tore myself out of the museum after an hour or so of examining all kinds of fun stuff and moved on toward Sheridan, leaving Montana behind me and a strong desire to return and visit the state in its entirety. Wyoming is just as beautiful and, of course, has the Yosemite National Park which I will return to later. The land is just plain gorgeous in this area and words are a poor substitute for the scenic wonders around me. And this is just around I-90. Just think of how much more beautiful it is off the beaten track!
Tomorrow I’ll be in Gillette, Wyoming, and then on to South Dakota. Too brief of a stop but indeed, if I stayed longer I might never leave. Onward I push, however, still planning the day when I can return and explore to my little heart’s content.
Lessons Learned:
That when you lean over the bed in the night to pour more water into the kitties’ bowl, make sure that it’s the water bowl you’re pouring into.
That the kitties won’t drink kitty food soup.
That I don’t blame them.
Yuck.
Observations:
Wyoming has roads that are a deep reddish-purple that matches the red in the hills on both sides of the highway. Coincidence? I think not. I hope not, anyhow.
While passing a field with many beautiful horses grazing, I see one lone mule standing in the middle of the herd and smiling at the sun.
A prairie dog up on the shoulder of the road sniffing around and just begging to be turned into road kill. Just like the scattering of smished bodies of his brethren seen periodically along the route.
What I thought were odd looking deer grazing were actually some kind of antelope from around these parts. I didn’t think deer came in that shape and color…
An older couple whom I have seen off and on throughout my voyage smile and wave to me as we pass each other in the campground. They are heading to Minnesota so we take the same path for a ways.
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