High Pains Drifting

Home again, home again jiggity jig.....

We enjoyed a longer than usual trip - a drift around the US's High Plains, travelling through, or in, three panhandles: Oklahoma panhandle, the Texas panhandle, and the Nebraska panhandle. The latter was a new one for us, and very nice too - possibly one of those "hidden gems" travel writers sometimes mention. We also hit the plains of Colorado in Fort Morgan, and the eastern edge of Wyoming at Torrington; home again via Kansas and northern Oklahoma.

We'd have ventured further into Colorado or Wyoming but for the weather forecast. Snow arrived in the Rockies. We experienced just an icing sugar scattering in Scottsbluff, Nebraska where we were staying at the time.

(Clicking on them should bring up clearer versions of husband's photos below.)

Fall has definitely fallen in parts of Colorado and Nebraska. The area around Scottsbluff was especially bright with golden Maples plentiful and practically fluorescent. I like Nebraska! Don't know exactly why, I just do - it feels like "me". I wondered if, perhaps, the feeling connected to the state's latitude. It is nearer to England's Yorkshire latitude than is south-western Oklahoma, for sure, but I'd have to be well into Canada to find similar latitude to my birthplace in the north of England.

Points of special interest were: Carhenge in Nebraska - someone had the peculiar idea of building a kind of stonehenge (as in England) from old cars. The morning of our visit was very windy and plenty cold, though not quite bad enough to keep us inside our car.

Later in the trip, in Kansas, we stumbled upon what was once known as the Cathedral of the Plains, now slightly downgraded from Cathedral to The Basilica of St Fidelis because it's not the seat of a Bishop. In any city the huge church would seem quite unremarkable, but rising from those barely populated plains, it stands out some...well...actually it stands out a lot.

We also stumbled upon Greensburg, Kansas without, at first, remembering its recent history. The cinema caught our attention, named after me too!

"Looks brand new, but who would build a new cinema in a tiny town these days?"

Hey, look - they spelled theatre the British way - just noticed!

The whole of Greensburg looked new too - strange indeed, in these parts, where dilapidation and abandonment are common. We found the small town's antique store where the answer awaited, in newspaper cuttings and photographs in the store's entrance. "Of course! I remember now - a tornado devastated this town some years ago!" Ten years ago, in fact. The antique store owner told us that the town had been in the middle of painting and tidying itself up, when the tornado hit and undid the handiwork. Still, Greensburg looks great now, and, we were told, it has been rebuilt to be, appropriately enough - "green". Locals have no argument at all when they see the drop in their energy bills each month, we were told.

We arrived home Sunday afternoon after our High Plains drifting. We forgot to take our whip along but, happily, didn't meet this legendary fellow-drifter! We did have a little "excitement" one evening though. Husband accidentally pressed the emergency button on the phone in our room, while shifting the telephone. Next thing : cops at the door wanting to know....Oops! Indeed!

A little contemplation of where the next trip might take us needed a hat (TSK!) and a drink:

Pondering Wyoming

Wyoming's Democratic Party caucus takes place today.
I don't know much about the state. We visited just the eastern edge of it during a trip in September 2009:




Snip:

We next ventured into Wyoming, the state line isn't too far from Deadwood. We sought and found Devil's Tower, famous for its appearance in the movie "Close Encounters of the Third Kind".

Before I had any idea that I could ever be living in a place where Wyoming was a possibility to visit, at least travelling by land, I had formed an idea about the state which may or may not be a fair one. It was based on a song from my favourite Elton John CD, Songs From the West Coast, a song titled American Triangle. The song tells of a very nasty incident in Wyoming in the late 1990s:

From Wikipedia

Matthew Wayne "Matt" Shepard (December 1, 1976 – October 12, 1998) was an American student at the University of Wyoming who was beaten, tortured, and left to die near Laramie, Wyoming on the night of October 6, 1998, and died six days later at Poudre Valley Hospital in Fort Collins, Colorado, on October 12, from severe head injuries.

[Matthew was gay]

The song mentions the state's name, and that mention remained in my memory very clearly:

On a more pleasant note, we've recently enjoyed two seasons of a TV series (via Netflix) set in Wyoming: Longmire. The series has given me a much better view of Wyoming.

I hope Wyoming voters will be kind to Bernie today!


UPDATE

THANK YOU WYOMING!

 Bernie Sanders 56 - Hillary Clinton 44

[Image - hat-tip to DaveZ at Crooks & Liars]

TRIPPING ALONG WITH ASTROLOGY

We're back from our road trip. Blogging kicks off with chat about sights we encountered, embellished with astrology, and a few of our photographs. It's a long post, so will stand for two days - next post Wednesday.

Mercury in apparent retrograde motion didn't catch us out in any serious way, but I had to wonder when, on the morning of our departure while packing the car trunk, my husband absent-mindedly (Mercury retrograde?) left the soft-sided holdall containing my toiletries, makeup and other fripperies lying under the shadow of the trunk lid or wheel - or something. This has never happened before, though we've taken lots of trips. As we drove out of the garage he said, "What's that noise?" We stopped at the end of the driveway, looked back and saw my bag looking kind of squashed and sad. "YIKES!" was my cry. "There's big mirror in there! If it's broken I'll not be going anywhere today!"

A quick investigation showed the mirror was fine, protected as it was in several layers of bubble wrap. The car had run over and caught the edge of the bag, dragged it and ripped it in two places. I didn't investigate further until we reached our first stopover in Salina, Kansas. There I found that a fat new tube of toothpaste had been squashed and split, the heat of the trunk had spread a pretty pink and white sticky frosting over every item in my toilet bag. Nice! A few other items had sustained minor injury.

"Could have been a lot worse", said I. "We might have left the bag in the garage, then where would I be - makeup-less and smelly on vacation? A fate worse than...."

We stayed two nights in Salina, my husband's place of birth and his hometown as a young man. Mercury Retrograde smiled on us as we re-visited his old haunts, including a vintage Lockheed Constellation aircraft, long ago bought by a private individual and parked at the airfield pending complete refurbishment. Planes like this were built in California between 1943 and 1958, 4-engine, propeller-driven aircraft. Refurbishment on this example is, sadly, still pending for lack of cash and spare time. The plane is called "Starship Connie". The husband, something of an aeroplane enthusiast, was both thrilled to see the plane again, but sad that work on her has stalled.




I acquired a replacement holdall for the princely sum of $5 in an antiques shop in Salina. It's a sturdy leather job, dating back to the 1940s or '50s I think, its former owner's name was still showing on a leather tag - a gentleman from Missouri.

The next overnighter was in a state new to me - Nebraska, at North Platte. This city's claim to fame is that it contains the biggest railyard in the world. It's at the confluence of many railway lines and the yard is, indeed, huge. Another of the city's claims to fame is that during World War 2 the ladies of the
North Platte Canteen served over 6 million servicemen and service women, passengers aboard troop trains, with refreshment. (See and hear story at link). The canteen was world-famous in its day; a memorial remains near the rail lines.




Next leg of the trip led towards our pre-booked place of rest for three more nights, Deadwood, South Dakota. The scenery gradually perked up as we entered South Dakota. Nebraska had been pretty and rural, but South Dakota and its Black Hills, named for their dense covering of dark pine trees, is beautiful.





Deadwood is a convenient center for touring the most scenic and interesting areas of South Dakota. It was named for an abundance of dead trees on the surrounding hillsides, killed or permanently poisoned, perhaps, by the many fires which also destroyed the town on several occasions, the latest in 1959.

We arrived on Saturday, late afternoon and the town was heaving, a music festival, "The Deadwood Jam" sounded to be in its last throes. Parking was a nightmare, it was impossible to drive past our hotel, let alone park nearby. After a few circles of the town we decided to stubbornly park crosswise near the entrance, forcing a flustered employee to approach and assist. We were forced into something we usually avoid like the plague, valet parking. It was a necessity, and quite painless in this venue, the "valets" being helpful young lads dressed in tee shirts and jeans rather than snooty guys in silly uniforms.

Deadwood has become something of a tourist trap, having been turned from an old western gunslingers' and miners' saloon and brothel haven into a modern casino town. Happily the casinos are hidden behind vintage facades in the main street, so Deadwood still has the look of a late 19th century frontier town. I have to report that we didn't touch even one slot machine or visit any casino - not our thing at all. There were lots of senior citizens around though, spending their pensions on the slots, hoping for a windfall.




Much is made of the fact that Wild Bill Hickok had connection to Deadwood, and was shot there, in the back of the head, while gambling at Saloon No. 10. Legend has it that when he died the cards he held comprised what's now called a "dead man's hand": aces and eights. The saloon is still there in Main Street, but re-built after one of several fires entirely destroyed old Deadwood.

Another colorful figure of the old west, Calamity Jane, also had connection to Deadwood and both these fabled western characters are buried in the cemetery there.

An astrological interlude:

Wild Bill Hickok was actor, lawman, gunfighter and gambler, subject of many legends a few of which have a core of fact.

His real first name wasn't William, or Bill it was James, James Butler Hickok. "Wild Bill" is said to have been his own invention, and possibly came from a former nickname "Duckbill", he was so-called because of a protruding upper lip and hooky nose.


(Below: yours truly posing with a sculpture of Wild Bill outside our hotel, Hampton Inn's "Four Aces".)



He was born 27 May 1837 in Troy Grove Illinois. Sun, Venus and Mercury all in Gemini with Jupiter and Mars in Leo describe something of the versatile, risk-taking showman type he must have been. What I find most interesting in his chart is the Yod (Finger of Fate) formed by the sextile between Sun/Venus in Gemini and Pluto in Aries both forming quincunx aspects (150*) to Saturn. Astrologers would say that this implies that the energies of Sun/Venus in Gemini (communication) and Pluto in Aries (intensity, aggression, death) are channeled through Saturn ( relating to the law, but also one of the planets known as malefic to ancient astrologers). In a nutshell, Wild Bill had, inbuilt, a propensity for dealing with the law, and death.

Calamity Jane had connection with Deadwood, and is buried there, next to Wild Bill. She was an amazing character, too. Scout, gunfighter, prostitute, alcoholic, yet compassionate to those in need, notably, when she nursed victims during a smallpox epdemic in the Deadwood area.



Jane was an Earthy Taurean. Sun, Mercury, Saturn, Uranus and Pluto all in the sign of The Bull. Her earthiness was lightened somewhat by Venus in sociable Gemini, Mars in showy Leo and Moon more than likely in Libra, ruled by Venus as is Taurus where the bulk of her planets lie. She could be termed as Venusian, yet that's not what comes across from her life story, but this could be the source of her compassion, I suppose. Jupiter in Scorpio reflects an excess of sexiness - though to our 21st century eyes her curriculum vitae doesn't appear awfully sexy!





From Deadwood we visited its nearby sister town of Lead, site of the Homestake Gold Mine, America's longest continuously operated gold mine. It closed in 2002. It is 8000 ft deep and produced 40 million ounces of gold during its many functioning years.

A further drive of around 35 miles led us to Mount Rushmore and Gutzon Borglum's world-famous memorial sculpture honoring Presidents of the USA - a stunning sight. I'd expected to view it from some vantage point in a field or from the roadside, but the site has been developed into a real tourist trap now, with gift shop, restaurant, etc. I guess this was inevitable. Trivia: George Washington's nose is 21 feet long (one foot longer than the other noses), his eye is 11 ft wide, mouth 18ft wide. 400 workers took from 1927 to 1941 to complete it at a cost of $989,992.32.



17 miles from Mount Rushmore brings the Crazy Horse Memorial into view. This is a Native American endeavour to build something similar to the memorial on Mt. Rushmore, this to honor one of their tribal Chiefs, Crazy Horse. The Black Hills are sacred to the Lakota Tribe, as is the memory of Crazy Horse. The massive sculpture isn't anywhere near completion, only the face of Crazy Horse can be seen as yet. Photo below shows a view of the work so far completed taken from the exhibition center, a bronze sculpture of the finished monument stands in the window.




The sculptor chosen by the Lakota tribe to carry out the work, Korczak Ziolkowski died in 1982. Portrait shows the sculptor and his wife who now carries on directing the work.

An interesting astrological tidbit is that Crazy Horse, born in the Black Hills, was stabbed in the back by an American soldier at Fort Robinson, Nebraska, while under a flag of truce. He died on 6 September 1877 at around 35 years of age. The sculptor chosen to craft this memorial was born on 6 September 1908....omen or coincidence?

A Sun Virgo sculptor was he, and the Virgoan stickler for detail is evidenced in that he left behind very, very detailed measurements and instructions for the completion of the monument, to be carried out by his wife and family of 10 children. Note that Uranus is in exact trine to the sculptor's Sun, reflecting what some might see as the eccentricity of such an enormous, dangerous and difficult undertaking.



Work began in 1948. No financial assistance from the government is, or will ever be involved. It was twice offered and refused because both sculptor and tribe believe the work should be carried out under a free enterprise system, money coming from donations and admission fees. Work is painfully slow and dangerous, entailing much blasting before carving can begin. The sculpture, when finished will show Crazy Horse on his steed, pointing out to the Black Hills, forever repeating his words:
"My lands are where my dead lie buried".

(Scale sculpture of finished monument).



Image below isn't from our cameras, it's from Hemmy.net. It was taken during the unveiling at completion of the first stage of the sculpture - the head of Crazy Horse, c.1998, I think.




We next ventured into Wyoming, the state line isn't too far from Deadwood. We sought and found Devils Tower, famous for its appearance in the movie "Close Encounters of the Third Kind".









After three nights in Deadwood we began the journey back southward. Overnight stops were in Ogallala (end of the Texas cattle drives, and featured in Larry McMurtry's "Lonesome Dove"), and in York, Nebraska (couldn't miss that one, being a Yorkshirewoman myself); then just before the last leg home, we overnighted in Wichita, Kansas.





Some folks might consider these mid-country states to be merely "fly-overs", but every small town and medium-sized city has its interesting tale to tell; often there's a lovely view around each turn of the road. Approximately 150 years ago, very little that's manmade here existed, and nature's wonders hadn't been seen by more than a handful of intrepid travellers and pioneers. That, in itself, is a constant wonder to me. This was a fascinating and varied trip of just under 3000 miles - one of our best, we'd say, apart from an unfortunate flare-up of my nasal/sinus allergy, in spite of taking regular medication. Luckily this only happened during the last few days, so it didn't spoil the best of the trip. I now have what feels like a head filled with shards of glass. I fear my next trip is likely to be in the direction of the doctor's office.