Saturday, July 24, 2010

Virginia City, Montana

Wed 4 Aug
Day 17, 5496 km
  
Went to sleep in Salmon to the steady subdued roar of the Salmon River
woke to it this morning still going
50 metres wide, looks 3'-4' deep, rushing by, 1000 miles from the sea.
Amazing where all the water comes from, there isnt any snow to speak of on the mountains we pass by, even more amazing the salmon come right up and past here on their heroic mission of breeding and survival.

Buffalo Jump

Followed the Salmon for several miles, at one stage upstream passing a rock weir right across leaving a 6' channel, and guess it might have been a fish trap.
Equally heinous was a site of interest named Buffalo Jump, a place where the horse-backed Indians herded/stampeded bison over a cliff...
abattoire en plein air, saves on arrows too
and buffalo skin coats for everyone next winter.

Climbing out of the Salmon North Fork, quickly onto a rising plain, and Big Horn Battle site looms, second major skirmish of the Nez Perce with the troops.
Looking Glass was leader at that stage and he'd determined things were pretty safe, didnt have sentries posted, wasnt till someone went to check the horses at 3am and got shot by the sneaking up soldiers, that all hell broke lose, firing into the sleeping teepees, and 90 indians lost their lives, mostly women and children, as the braves regrouped for a counter offensive to allow the survivors pack up sticks and flee.
Got wet eyed as I did last year watching the video again, a people been here over 10,000 years forced to bugger off from home and land.
Have wondered at the placidity of the descendants speaking about their feelings, and their benign acceptance of events and situation and have come to another conclusion that they were probably a reasonably peaceful people, not the scalping terror-mongerers created by wild west movies.
Stands to reason with so much room and game there was no reason to scrap for tribal territory,
dissimilar to the elevation of scrapping to an art form with an indigenous people more familiar to us kiwis.

Beaver Head

There's a nice little story along the roadside here in Montana at a place called Beaver Head, a promontory of rock shaped like the namesake, thats been a landmark since time immemorial.
Lewis and Clark were the hot shot explorers of the early days, trying to walk a route through to the Pacific, they'd acquired the services an Indian woman who'd been kidnapped from her tribe as a young girl of 12 years old, now married to a French trapper, to act as their interpreter and way-smoother.
She, Sacagawea, got increasingly excited at sight of Beaverhead and explained her old tribe used this place as a summer camp. They'd either be at one of two places adjacent, which they were...
and her brother was now chief of the band, and one of the other kidnapped girls had escaped and found her way home
some re-union......

Around here the plains of Montana were busy with haymaking, zillions of acres of windrows and pressed bales, all sizes.
Stopped at a diner in Wisdom for my now favorite brunch, all-in mash, ham, peppers, onions, tomato, mushroom, cheese topping if you wish, plus an egg or two, easy over, or lookin' at yer.
Two couples came in sporting Sturgis t-shirts so easily started up a conversation
'Goin' t' Sturgis', I enquire
'Nah' they respond, 'We live thar, jest gittin' out of it fer a spell'
Interest wherever we go is high, particularly with the motorcycle cultured American, and in my not marketed here CB1300.
Another silly impression we have is that a non Harley rider would get scalped over here in HD land...
not so, theyre as interested, intrigued, and intellectually au fait as you'd never imagine.
Great conversation starter, 'that yer bike outside?'
These guys were farmers too, so another great hour on the road
How much to get a bike to NZ like you got yours here?
how long do we need to stay to see the place?
Had a similar question from an ex-Marine SAS equiv man couple of days back
and I said, 6 weeks definitely, on account of so far away
and he said how long you here for then?
6 weeks I chime back, to much dissolution in laughter...
great folks in outback USA.

They've even got sheep in Montana
How many sheep and cattle you got, how many acres?
680, Holy cow, jees, I got 4000 acres for my 300 beef cows, (an Angus stud breeder too)
and you fella's got no cost of production neither.
Relative to them, no, we dont got no cost of perduction.
God I love yanks, but you gotta be careful,
these guys and gals broke out of the conversation for a full 20 seconds to say grace when their tucker arrived,
then they were right back into the questions.


Sweeping on across Montana, we're over-nighting at Virginia City/Nevada City, a couple of ghost towns, 2 miles apart, in their day once populated over 35,000 chasing gold, silver and other stuff to the tune of 10's of millions.
The road from here back to Wisdom was once a highwayman's alley.
Back down the track the local sherriff and his deputies were the main crooks, he'd hang out at a wayside boarding house, scope out the likeliest passing-through prospects, and the deputies would complete the mission.
They got cleaned up by quite a bloody vigilante operation, but the sherriff survived all accusation.
Just getting here must have been some sort of mission in them days, getting all the minerals out to civilisation even more mind-boggling.

Our digs are converted ghost town cabins, quite a cute change from the 4 star stuff we've been staying in so far, the roofs have grass and cacti growing on them.
A lot of the buildings have been transported in from surrounding sites to recreate the town,
rabbits hop around the dirt streets, old relic mining machinery and rail wagons lie everywhere.
Apart from the day-trippers and passers-through, the tourist traffic is almost ghost town proportion here too.
The hosts have treated us extremely well, and gratefully.
Sam went on the attack over the expected 17% tip for a group tabling after dinner, 34 of us in various state of inebriation, and was politely informed they dont encourage it (tipping) in these parts, nice one america.......
a welcome sea-change, I suspect.

Well, off for my morning all-in mash, (writing this the morning after)
seeing they treated us so well, I'm going to give them my brunch money too!

Neil tries out the 2-storey longdrop


Friday, July 23, 2010

Red Lodge, Montana

Friday 6 August
Day 19, 6286 km


Actually, its the morning after, but I find it easier to diary up in the early am out of everybody's way.
Didnt write up the eventless run from Virginia City to Jackson Hole day before
sweeping again across Montana part of the day, wide expanse between the Madison and Gravelly ranges.







Lower Mesa Falls


Up over 6800' Raynolds Pass, past Henrys Lake, then did a loop road detour to look at the Mesa Falls, on a tributary of Snake River, itself the biggest feed into the Columbia system.
Here we are 11 days since leaving the mouth of the Columbia and we're still doodling around it one way or another.

The ID47 highway loop brought me back right onto ID32, now in Idaho
a road I missed last year and got lost, doing an extra 30 odd miles in the recovery of
which in retrospect was fortuitous, as this year didnt pass the site of the Teton Valley
where the dam burst and flooded 24 homes with some loss of life years ago.
This part of Idaho is very productive, spuds, wheat, mainly, under irrigation
rolling switchback country, the soils only asset appearing to be friability, with water added giving it life.
Its that sign again...

Just short of Jackson, got hauled up in bumper to bumper traffic, spotted flashing blue and red up ahead
assumed a crash, but getting closer it turned out to be a managed ani-jam
a moose was grazing in the Snake marshland.
Amusing throngs these ani-jams, hordes of people taking photographs of where they just seen the moose or bear, minutes before it sauntered off.





One each corner of the square - lot of deer died for this


Jackson Hole is Queenstown on steroids...
the endless promenade of chromed Harleys, RV's, and pickups, around Main Square wasnt the novelty it was last time, somewhat facile now
quick couple of JB's at the Million Dollar Bar, and that was it.

Yesterday Jackson to Red Lodge was drama day.
Started innocently enough with bumper to bumper past the Grand Teton's to Yellowstone West Thumb.


Grand Tetons

I was right about increased tourist numbers
July is max tourist month here in US, and Yellowstone has had a 60,000 increase over last year, to 957,000 for the month
staggering......
$25 a car, they got a record 3.3 million visitors 2009, already they've passed 2m for the first 7 months of this year.

Most of us opted to give Old Faithful a miss, which I thought was a bit of a miss for those who hadnt seen this icon before
plus the thermals and bison on the central circuit
and we slipped out of West Thumb direct to Cody, now in Wyoming
although some of the group saw bears, and cubs, on the way.
Cody's on the Shoshone River, which at that place is thermal, discoloured.

The William F Cody Museum is the major attraction here, a 2-3 hour diversion.
Have to moderate my assumption that the indians were peaceful, they could make war pretty good alright.
They'd mastered the compound bow technology, and some of their ball clubs were downright viscious with a big spike on the business end of the ball
however it was the intricate and beautiful buckskin clothing and coloured porcupine beadwork thereon that really impressed
mocasins too.

At about gun 300 of the 3000 gun collection, I just got confused
although the tracing of the history of what made a gun go off was interesting enough
the terminology has its lasting effect on today's language
"going off half-cocked", the hammer at half-cock didnt make the flint spark, so no bang
"flash in the pan", the spark did ignite the powder in the powder pan, but failed to ignite the charge in the barrell, no bang again.

The wildlife section was great.
The Buffalo Bill bit was, as could be expected, immense, but I dunno
we all thought it was a bit overdone, US style.
His missus outlived the whole family, kids included, we got to see her mourning dress
and how a bloke could shoot baddies, and injuns
then gather what was still alive of them into the great Wild West Show to go on to entertaining royalty...
well, this is A-merica, A-men.
The collection of saddles, coaches, bits and bobs was cool.

Then the fun started...
back to my old ways of dropping off the bunch, doing my own historical, point of interest site, junkie thing
I walked out of the museum an hour after the others, into an approaching violent thunderstorm.
The carpark was mayhem as bikers asked themselves and the Bloke Upstairs, out loud, what to do next.
Well fore-warned by Paul McCormick, I rode the CB round the back of the museum looking for some immediate lee
rather quickly on account the wind was so violent I was fearing getting blown over
and found a couple of low trees with spreading branches, so up over the footpath where I, bike, and gear, stayed spotless
while the hospital across the street got a veritable lashing of rain, hail and thunder, and lightening overhead.
After an hour of wondering whether I should try and find a motel here for the night
it was all over, blue sky as the storm wandered off down-country.

Not so flash for the others on the road, they got wet, and a fright.
Highway W212 we were going to take over Beartooth Pass, 10,950', was being re-sealed.
The re-sealing process is first, a sort of 1" deep rotary hoeing/grooving, followed by the application of a hot oil coat
after which the hot-mix, or combo tar-sprayer/chip layer machine follows.
Anyway, if at the oil stage you also apply some rain and hail, plus some bikes, the result is mayhem
9 bikes went down, 2 pillions got helicoptered out
only one of our group was included in this, fortunately escaping with a pulled calf muscle
but a dented, bent handle-bar bike, and a crack in a side-plate thats leaking a tiny bit of oil.
By the time I caught the others up, the road had been closed,
so it was that we sought the alternate route.
Yellowstone Lake

So there you go...
riding America does have a lottery aspect to it
but being a little on the conservative side dont hurt neither






Thursday, July 22, 2010

Rapid City, South Dakota

Wed 11 Aug
Day 24, 7421 km
  
Third day in Rapid City, spent most of today out at Sturgis, a small town 30 odd miles north-west
pop 6600 odd, but swells with visitors for Bike Week, a reputed 600,000 bikers
theyre everywhere.

This is a no-helmet state, bikers in t-shirts or cut-offs, females in whatever goes.
There's at least a road-fatality a day, sometimes the odd shooting
but the police are pretty well on to things, no patches or weapons allowed
and 24 hr round the clock processing for DIC and/or drugs.
Incredibly, only one bike theft reported as of today
nevertheless, we left the bikes at our city hotel, and took the shuttle out and back.

The attendee demographic has changed markedly in the last 20 years we're told
mostly 40 plus professional and/or retirees these days.
We passed one old duck on her Harley, sporting "Party Girl" signage on her topbox
prompting Sam to comment the years had treated her well, but the weekends had certainly taken their toll.
This lady got a bit pissed we didnt tip, and decamped

Not so the bikini girl I photographed in CrackerJacks bar last year...
there she was again, more resplendently skimpy tanned than ever.
I showed her the pink bikini pic from last year, (no, i'm not a weirdo,
I've still got all 1000 pics from last year in my Nokia 5800 phone and there's still 6 of the 8 gig total capacity still available)
She was so chuffed she jumped up on the beer ice box and did a gorgeous all-fours pose for my 2010 album
but would you believe it, I stuffed up the camera setting, and lost that pic, and several others from the Sturgis visit.
I'd got to believing I could put the phone back in my pocket still in pic-taken mode to save on twiddling setup for the next pic
but when you do that it superimposes a fresh pic of the inside of my pocket, and loses the last pic, so i've discovered
damn........!

Speaking of phone, have to mention Vodafone's roaming partner here in US, AT&T, has better coverage this year
about 50% more coverage my guess
but still no reception bars right here in SD.

It was so hot we were pleased to get back in the AC'd shuttle home.
General thought is Sturgis is just a glorified t-shirt and cheap riding gear sale venue
tatoo parlours, and food...
one end of Lazelle St, one of the two main streets of the show, had most of the trade exhibits
but you couldnt say they were all that outstanding.
99% of the bikes here are Harleys, but I did get a sit on a new gussied up V-Max in a Yamaha tent
surprising lighter feel than my CB.

Yesterday morning we spent at Black Hills Harley here in Rapid City.

The trade exhibits are probably better here than at Sturgis, certainly more accessible.
You can listen to different exhaust systems mounted and running, or stereo systems playing, or check out suspension units
then trundle your bike round if you've made a choice, and have it fitted while you wait
and fill in the time having a corn dog, or an inch thick, t-bone size pork chop with chips and coleslaw.
Again there was a magnitude more bikes here than last year.

The resident shopkeepers in Sturgis vacate their premises for the incoming traders
and earn just as much from this fortnight's rent out, or more, than they do all year.
Spoke to one group at the bar last night who rent an owner-vacated for the week house
10 of them share the $4000 cost, pretty reasonable board when most of the motels are trying for room rates up to US$300 per night.
Rest of the year Sturgis reverts to a livestock market town
and Rapid City, at about 60,000 pop, bit like Palmerston North, but with a 6 lane 70 mph free-way in and out, serves as a district centre.

USA is very well served with roads, if you build it they will come sort of philosophy in action
beautifully engineered, constant radius turns, just right cambers
perfect territory for the imperfect and/or choppered Harley.

Dakota Badlands

Yesterday afternoon Sam and I took in SD's Badlands Natl Park
I wont try and describe the eroded escarpment drop, off the Dakota prairie
there are a few surviving good pics apart from those of the inside of my pocket to do that better than words I could find.

Interesting little side-stop in this part of SD was at the Minuteman Natl Park exhibit.
During the 60's Cold War there were 150 missile bunkers built here on surrounding farms.
By the polar route the solid fueled Minutemans could deliver a payload on Moscow within 35 minutes, some time faster than Russia could do pre-emptive damage
the solid fuel also lasts indefinitely for ever-ready preparedness.
Most of the bunkers have been dis-established now and the land sold back to the farmers
makes you wonder whats in the modern armament cupboard.
Prairie dog park on the way home too
Day before, most of the morning was spent at Rice Honda getting new tyres fitted and servicing done
they also deal in Suzuki and Victory
the CB created some interest and coveting in the workshop and with management, being a model not sold here
we want your bike!!
I could be tempted to trade to the Victory Hammer they sell
but I think I'd be like one customer they told me about, has bought 5 new bikes off them, but never traded-in the old.
The service staff here have been working 14 hour days for the last 4-5 days to cope with demand.
I had the GM personally on my case, and I think the laid back left-field good humour of us kiwis was a welcome respite for them.

Later we popped out to Cebelas sporting goods emporium, Graeme took us to last year, always worth a visit
coffee and cake, then a look and odd buy, around the many shelves of reasonably priced quality clothing, footwear, gear, you name it
the gun department's huge and interesting.
If I lived here I'd own a .40 Smith and Wesson silvered-barrel revolver
an over and under shotgun
a lever action .44 Winchester rifle
heck.......... I'd be in this shop every weekend
fishing gear, bows and arrows........... boy

Then back to the hotel bar...
got in conversation with a couple of locals and a bloke in orange t-shirt and jandals
asking what we thought of the historic Alex Johnson hotel and its 8 storeys of renovated rooms.
Fortunately I gave a polite account, as he turned out to be the owner
and I also got shouted a beer for my positive homily.
A few rounds and drinking company later...
and the conversation shifted to our new Chicago-an company's difficulty interpreting Sam's quickening Irish chatter
so I chipped in as interpreter.
I've found if you insert a y after the vowels a or i, it sounds about right
right becomes riyght, eight becomes eiyght, or riyit and eiyit
and you equal emphasise double vowelled words like thirteen, as thirr-teen.
"Mah dayddy sayid he'd git me a caydillac if ah dont got me a bayby before ah wuz thirr-teen"
and they roared as I mixed my smattering of accents from around the country.
Interestingly, they knew of and hugely enjoyed the antics of another duo of kiwis on TV
some characters, Bret, Germaime, and another bloke whose name they couldnt pronounce, Mrry or something.......
Flight of the Conchords! 
Rona stole a show a couple of days ago too
I'd filled her up with yarns about the American womans prowess at making pie
at a roadside dinery we'd just polished off the first course and Rona pounces on the matron'd/bar-lady
you fullas got any pie
the bar-lady was full 40 seconds taken aback, and the yanks round the other side of the bar waited in expectant gleeful mystery
we were about for doing some prompting when the bar-lady hit full understanding
aaww, yew mean pah, ez in blueberra pah!
yeah, yeah, nah, yeah we chime back, and gales of laughter all round.

Getting serious to finish off...
did a big detour on the way here from Red Lodge, to go to Little Bighorn Battlefield Natl Monument
we're getting great use from our natl park season passes 
name-changed away from reference to Custer's Last Stand in deference to the indian involvement.
By sheer fluke I took a $5 one hour minibus tour sponsored by the local Crow Indian Little Bighorn College
and learned a heap from the stirring and passionate commentary of the battle delivered by our indian woman guide.
So, stuff I didnt know......., and had wrongly gleaned from western movies.....
the last stand might have been on one knob, but the battle scene was spread over 5 miles, and maybe 5-10 more to the supply wagons.
First mistake, Custer ran to the fight, left his supply train mired in a swamp.
From 40 odd miles away his indian scouts had seen the 20,000 indian horses grazing out, and knew the opposition was pretty big.
When pointed to, Custer couldnt see them, so 2nd mistake, Custer didnt take his scouts advice
actually 600 troops vs 7000 indians.
3rd mistake, Custer split the troops into 4 or so smaller units
from his advance position all he could see of the indian encampment was the small top end,
consistent with the current military theory that 500 was about the maximum sustainable indian camp size.
At 3 per indian, 1500 horses need a lot of grass, Chief Joseph had 2000 for his 600 band
Custer believed he had the job sewn up, and interestingly, he let his indian scouts go
The handout says he had no further use for them, but I bet they were mighty pleased to beat it out of there
given what the retaliatory justice from their ethnic counterparts might have been.
So there he is, 600 troops spread out over 5 miles on exposed tops of hills, open country somewhat of the contour around Mt Stewart near PN
the indians surround them, and Custer and his advance 260 troop unit, in fact all the others of the 600 army
are stuck out in the blazing June sun 3 days, run out of water, and eventually ammo
Custer's group shoot their horses to make barricades, discard their ammo-spent rifles, shoot all their pistol ammo out
then stand back to back using pistols as clubs.
The indians do arrow showers just like we saw in "Braveheart"
Benteen countermands Custers messenger to come forward to assist and all 260 of Custer's post perish
there's little white headstones all over where troops remains have been found.
Nothing for the indians...
estimated losses of them between 60 and 100, but being rectified now, as mostly they took their dead with them.
Custer planned to go down to the indian camp to hold the women and children at gunpoint, with a view to making the braves surrender
a tactic he'd successfully pulled in campaigns further south, but still oblivious to the size of the bite he was attempting to chew.
The Cheyenne boys brigade of 10-14 year olds kept this move occupied, while the braves encircled further...
game over.
Benteen got out of it as the indians decamped en masse for further south,
and it was another 12 months before they were successfully out-campaigned/rounded up.

Other stuff....
Custer didnt have golden locks, and wasnt scalped, I think
Indian mutilation of defeated enemy was belief based.
To stop the spirit going on doing the same stuff achieved while alive, different treatments were meted
Custer got his thighs slashed so he wouldnt ride horses again
another common treatment was removal of a trigger finger, so the spirit wouldnt go around firing guns
spirit was deemed to be resident in the hair, hence scalping.
The composition of the troops was similar to what we had in NZ colonial constabulary
40% european adventurers, some ranchers sons, and the rest pro soldiers and mercenaries.
Our Von Tempsky was Austrian, fought in Mexico and California before coming to Taranaki to form Von Tempsky's Raiders.

At 45 years old, Sitting Bull was a retired statesman, who'd done a great diplomatic feat of uniting the Crow, the 3 tribes of Dakota Sioux, and the Cheyenne into this huge force.
He never entered the fight, was seeing to the safety of the women and children
Crazy Horse was 35 leading his contingent of Lakota, but would also have been considered an old man
braves were at their peak between 17 and mid twenties.

The circumstances leading up to this started 5 years previous...
the Crow people in their original treaty got the vast tract of land white-free
then that familiarly named character Bozeman, and a mate, sorted out the movie popularised Bozeman Trail through the southern region
but the Crow, contrary to what I seen in the movies as a kid, sorted the job out and secured the 5 years, invasion free
till gold got discovered, a new treaty refused, and the land became termed "un-ceded" territory.
Custer got sent in to "cede" it.
Outside of the Natl Park, the land is still Crow reservation
the nations have recently tried Congress on for a compensation settlement but our guide said it failed
one of our group thinks it was a take the money and bugger off the reservation offer.
I'd sooner be take the bag.
In todays terms the extent of reservation territory is pretty huge, and not necessarily the worst country either
with the familiar rank of defunct vehicles surrounding modest abodes.

Chatting with our guide, she was quite au fait with NZ's situation of Treaty and compensation settlements
I'd guess studies of indigenous situations round the world would be part of their college curriculum.
Mentioned in an earlier letter, Sitting Bull made it to Canada, but it was pretty raw up there for his people so they came home.
He took part in Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show, but got into trouble again by promoting the Ghost Dancers movement
the people believing the spirits would make them undefeatable.
He eventually surrendered, but was shot by the indian police
exactly what happened to Crazy Horse.
One has to wonder....
its just like Te Kooti being rounded up by Te-Rangi-hiwi-nui (Major Kemp)
Were the people who accepted the further reservation confinement seeing the actions of the non-treaty-ists as delinquent?
were they settling old inter-tribal scores?
dunno......

I said it last year, of all colonised peoples, Maori were better off for taking the citizenship offered at Waitangi by the Crown.
I think it was that the colonists here in US had their independence stoush with the English
because the eastern Indian tribes were going to come out of it too well in land settlement.

And no photos, sorry...
was so engrossed I forgot.

Well, if youve got this far, congratulations
a fairly big read.
Tomorrow we're off around the Black Hills, weather permitting
on our way to Ft Collins, Colorado

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Idaho Springs, Colorado

Fri 13 Aug
Day 26, 8351 km
  
Idaho Springs by the look of it, is an abandoned mining town, mainstreet about the size of Marton
a row of old shops jammed haphazardly together in frontier like topsy fashion
near forgotten, in a canyon, tucked away under Interstate 70 with its incessant flow of traffic between Denver not far to the east, and wherever, to the west through the Rockies.
With a short ride for the day, we've arrived early.
The team are taking the opportunity to relax, wash bikes, and compare adventures.
Near Cameron Pass

For a few its a chance to recover from the high altitude experienced as we crossed two high passes getting here
Cameron, 10,256', and Berthoud at 11,315'
the wind a bit gusty up there too.
Sam told me he noticed I was hugging the centre line for preference to the unrailed cliff-side
about the same time I noticed in my mirror, him doing the same thing.

A km or so walk to the shops didnt come easy either, I think I saw on a welcome to town sign, alt 8000'.
A local asked us what we'd stopped there for, saying jokingly, dont tell me it was for the farmers market...
a small collection of local vendors doing their best to add joy to the town.
But its cool up here, and we dont have to rely on aircon in our rooms
cheaper accommodation that does better during the ski season taking the overflow from the expensive resorts
like Steamboat's (ski-field) sign, among others, we passed on the way.
Stanley Hotel

Also took in the Stanley Hotel at Estes Park, a haunt of author Stephen King, part of The Shining, I think it was, set there
and a few others he penned getting their inspiration from the supposed haunted halls.
The Stanley part of the name comes from original ownership by the renowned Stanley Steamer Co dynasty, successful providor of steam vehicles right up to pre WWII.

Previous night's stopover was at Ft Collins.
A mexican cafe a few doors down from the motel was the scene of one of our most hilarious nights last year.
Like the girl at the beer cart in Sturgis, some things are still here, others arent,
this cafe was, the food again simple mexican, and great
but nobody in the group in the mood for margaritas by the jug.
I had to be satisfied with just a glass myself, and an unwanted first sampling of one of the others.
The barman shouted us a parting shot of tequila.
Kiwis are well known round here, there's a Daniel somebody I couldnt put a face-name to
a runner at Colorado State Uni, just along the street.
Our barman told us he'd had 3 jobs in the last 2 years, and has had to work harder each job change.
By and large americans work pretty hard...
two weeks annual holiday, if youre lucky, with no under-pinning holiday legislation
or adult minimum wage, starting around $8.50 per hour he said,
or $5/hr if in a good tipping position.

We heard on the news, home mortgage foreclosures across USA had reached a rate of one in 347,
unemployment up to 12 million,
which spread over the 380m total pop dosent sound too bad?
On the other hand, the auto industry's doing pretty good
GM heading for a best year ever, one of the others thought he heard.
TV ads exhort you to get a Dodge Ram 3500 pickup, pay nothing for 60 day trial
give it back if you dont like it.
Other TV ads tell you 40% of motorcycle accidents occur at intersections, please be aware of motorcyclists, still others pursue the motorcycle insurance market.
Great to be part of a respected interest group, rather than the bane of motorist selfishness in back-home NZ.

Accidents we've seen or heard of here have quite a circumstantial underlying cause
4 of the Sturgis related deaths happened when the group of 4 pulled onto the shoulder just over a rise.
Coming the same way was an 18 wheeler who pulled over to let a following queue of motors through
at speed of course, coming over the rise and cleaning up the bikes and the bikers.
The good old american boys have a dangerous penchant too, to ride in close formation.
We see several, 2 abreast, up to 4 or 5 deep, at hardly 2 bikes interval.
Defensive driving technique goes a long way toward self preservation, and this dosent fit description.
Mt Rushmore, backside

It was a long run down from Rapid City to Ft Collins...
we did 682 km for the day, taking in Mt Rushmore with the 4 presidents carved in a high granite rock face
but all agree on Crazy Horse Monument as the highlight
sculptor Korszcak's lifetime work to immortalize the great chief, "my land is where my people are buried"
the granite mountain carving will dwarf Rushmore several times.

Crazy Horse, the model & the mountain

Estimated another 40 years to completion, the work being carried on by 8 next in line of the family.
With tourist traffic so huge, one cant imagine too much blasting being done during the summer season.

Bison, Wind Cave Natl park

Also saw 3 herds of bison, of I guess around 200 each, calves at foot
great to see the old icon flourishing,
although their tameness and reluctance to get out of the way of traffic gives away theyre probably getting hay from the surrounding fields being harvested.
I saw these herds in what I thought was Custer Natl Park last year, but my error...,
it was actually Wind Cave Natl Park a few kms south.

Bit of anxiety followed as we skirted round a huge storm cloud.
Nebraska is huge, flat, and offering little protection for the exposed motorcyclist
our route map involved heading west in a straight line 80km
then turning right angle south for another straight 80km.
We stopped at a small-town county fair to buy time, as the storm headed slowly east
and were fortunate enough to cop just a 10deg drop in temp and a few spits on its tail as we fled our way to the south.
The county fair was like an old-time A&P show, they still do these things here
ducks and geese lined up on a judging table,
preserves, cakes, floral and needlework in the home crafts pavillion
fat cattle, sheep, and goats in the stock pens.

Last year I had a laugh a minute hour with some old farmers in the little town of Kimball
the table we sat at was still there, but no sign of the farmers.
I hope theyre well, and the 15 years of dry summers has come to an end.
Nebraska looked such a picture of relative green I hardly could recognise it
herds of cattle in vast paddocks, that were vacant last time
machinery busy in hay paddocks, vast acres in grain further north.
My assumption that the Montana beef men had pushed their Nebraska counterparts out of the game wasnt correct, I was told some days ago.
When things are right, Nebraska finishes legions of Montana cattle
you could see huge feedlots from the road, open and unroofed
so guess the winters are less severe down here.
A lot of the farmhouses I thought were tumble down last year, look fixed-up now
or maybe its the difference between drought and green.
Maybe the old guys I was talking to were taking the set-aside rather than try and outfarm the dry.

Better go...
bit of activity round the camp