As our journey continued West, I started to think about all the different ways I could tell we were far away from home
(but there are always a few things that stay the same). The most obvious differences were the landscape. Rolling fields that seemed to go on forever. Cattle and horses were blessed with hundreds of acres to roam and graze. We laughed every time we saw that one anti-social cow just standing hundreds of yards from the other cows and staring into space. What on earth could they be thinking about?
Behind the fields were miles and miles of mountains, some with snow caps visible 150 miles away, others lined with trees that touched the sky. The scenery was majestic.
I had sort of expected those signs of the west but the ones that took me by surprise were a little closer to home. First sign that took me back just a bit was when Dennis started to play country music…and I didn’t object. Typically I would have been tempted to throw something at the radio to make the country twang stop but it actually sounded natural to me. It seemed right. But the sign that really stopped me in my tracks was when I realized I threw out any sense of fashion and color coordination and traded them for comfort and warmth. Sorry I don’t have a picture for you but how’s this image – bright orange tank top with olive green fleece, black sweatpants and brown flip flops. Don’t forget the unkept hair in a ponytail. What happened to me? Who was this person? I’ll tell you who – a very happy and relaxed traveler whose priorities were in the right place!
The most important signs of the West however centered on the Native American Indians. Towns named after tribes that live in and around the area. There were signs for Indian reservations that have been here for hundreds of years. The history and culture of our country’s original inhabitants should be treated with the utmost respect for it was their ancestors who shaped the earliest stories of our nation’s past.
As we drove past Crow Agency, an Indian Reservation of the Crow tribe, we noticed the sign for the Battle of Little Bighorn battlefield. It was an unplanned stop but I insisted we’d only stop for 5 minutes and get right back on the road. More than thirty minutes later, we drove away with a refreshed interest in our country’s quest to capture the west.
As you pulled into the parking lot, there were hundreds and hundreds of white markers of soldiers who died in the battle. Some had names and ranks of these loyal men but many were nameless markers of those who never made it home. A short walk up the hill, you can overlook the actual battlefield littered with markers of men on the spots they had fallen.
It was easy to spot the marker of General Custer. The face of the marker was shaded black to make it distinctive from the others. Unlike many of the soldiers, Custer’s body was moved to Arlington Cemetery in Washington DC several years back.
My favorite part of the memorial, however, was the story of the American Indians that defeated Custer and his troops. The memorial was careful not to label the good guy and the bad guy.
Many historians believe Custer’s fatal decision to engage in battle was careless and unnecessary. Others portray him as a great leader. Whichever side of the fence you fall on, this memorial stays focused on facts and images that make you pause and think. A must stop for anyone in the area.
As we drove away from the battlefield we had a new perspective on the land we traveled to our campground in Fort Smith Montana which was so small Betty the GPS didn’t know it existed. When we finally crossed into town lines, the signs proudly told us “Fort Smith, population 311”. Our campsite was alongside the Bighorn River, beautiful yet buggy. The owners were so kind, giving us tips on how to enjoy our short time in the area.
The boys made four new friends, black labs who wore the boys out playing fetch and jumping into the river. So, as the sun set in the west, we made plans to visit Bighorn National Recreation Area in the morning. To see our entire photo album, visit Snapfish for Battle of Little Bighorn and Camping in Montana
Donna says
Nice to hear your are RELAXING!!! It takes a very content,happy person to be perfectly comfortable to be in public with sweatpants. I’m proud of you. Another laugh out loud moment… head bobbing,drool! Ben was wondering when the last time
Betty was updated?? You should hook it up to your computer to see if it needs updating. Enjoy our adventures look forward to hearing all about them. P.S. Moody and Midnight say hello. They are doing great.