We Should’ve Moved to Alaska!

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Uffda,” I said to Ole this morning when I looked out the window.  “I think we should have moved to Alaska because the weather MUST be better up there than it is here.”  We’ve had 10 inches of heavy wet snow in the last 18 hours and it’s still snowing.  The weatherman says it’s supposed to snow throughout the day and then we’re supposed to “host” another “snow event” on Wednesday!  (I just love the way he puts things, don’t you?)  By that time we’ll be up to our “patooties” in snow again and it’s the middle of April already.  I haven’t seen green grass in such a long time that I went to Menard’s the other day and stared at their fake grass carpet – at least it was green!!

Ole and I took a little spin around the countryside the other day – out in the old neighborhood.  It gave Daisy a chance to sniff along some new ditches and investigate some new rabbit tracks.  I guess we were so busy with our own buyout and move when it took place, that we didn’t pay attention to how much the rest of the neighborhood had changed.  Driving along the country roads that follow the Buffalo River we saw numerous building sites now vacant.  No sign of there ever having been buildings there other than a leftover driveway entry and some trees.  The driveways have been dug up, smoothed out and covered with a straw/grass seed mixture.

The interesting thing is that it’s hard to see and think about all these vacant buildings sites, many of them having been lived on for many, many years and never having had water issues until these later years, where families were raised, friends visited and life stories evolved.  Now there’s not a sign of life.  Now, you may ask, does it bother Ole and I when we look at our old building site?  We lived there almost 40 years.  Not in the least!!  We have both said that all we feel is a big sense of relief.  This year we will stay high and dry and not have to have nightmares anymore, or lay awake listening to make sure the sump pump kicks in so the basement doesn’t flood.

Just as an example:  We had a 35 gallon barrel sunk into the basement floor that served as our sump hole.  During one period of high water we had TWO 3/4 horsepower sump pumps in that hole and the water was pouring in so fast that both pumps were running nonstop.  This went on for several days until the water started to recede.  One of us had to be downstairs watching the pumps at all times.  We didn’t dare leave them because if one had quit the basement would have taken on water in a matter of minutes.  Ole, being the smart man that he is, also had two more pumps sitting by in case of emergency.  Now think about it – would you miss something like that?  We sure don’t.

So my sympathies are with the poor folks that are facing this dilemma again this year.  But I must clarify this – my sympathies are with those folks who would like to get a buyout and move on with their life and can’t get one.  Then there are those stupid idiots that have the option of a buyout and have turned it down.  They are the ones that expect the city/county to come in and rescue them, or to build flood protection around their homes at the taxpayer’s expense and then sit on their butts and do nothing while the protection is being put in place.   We have several friends who, in the past, have volunteered to throw sandbags to build these dikes.  More than one of them said that there were homeowners who sat on their porches and watched the work being done – never lifting a finger to help and MAYBE bringing a pot of coffee out to the workers.  Enough said – you get the drift.

Well, that’s enough of a rant for today, Folks.

Lena

OLE DOESN’T HAVE TO BUILD AN ARK THIS YEAR

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“You know, Ole,” I said, as we sat comfortably looking out our patio door watching the freezing rain fall on Saturday morning, “two years ago we would have been panicking and rushing out to the shop to start building our ark!”

Ole responded, “Yah, Lena, but two years ago we would have been on the downside of the flood by now.  This one is really going to be a late hummer what with all this cold weather we’ve had.”

Yes, Folks, there’s a lot of catching up to do in the Ole and Lena saga as far as flooding goes.  Two years ago Shane Mercer from The Forum contacted me and asked me to write about Ole and Lena’s adventures with the notorious flooding in the Red River Valley.  At that time we lived on the banks of the Buffalo River in Minnesota (a tributary of the Mighty Red) and had dealt with severe flooding for about 20 years.  Shane contacted me again this spring and asked me to write in anticipation of severe flooding in the area.  I happily informed him that Ole and Lena wouldn’t be having any of those dreadful, stress-inducing opportunities this year as a year ago we had received a buyout of our property and had moved on to drier “digs.”  Believe me, Folks, when we were house hunting I wouldn’t consider looking at any property that was even CLOSE to any form of water.  All I’m willing to deal with at this point is a puddle or two in my yard!!  Ole does need some place to float toy boats in other than the bathtub, you know.  (That’s just a joke, Ole, just a joke.)

In my conversation with Shane, he asked if I would be interested in writing about the flood from a different point of view – a former victim and what my thoughts and emotions would be as I watch the flood progress.  I guess at this point I don’t know if they’ll be interesting or not, but I’ll put them down on paper (the computer screen) and see where they go.

I do have some opinions on things that are being done in the area to get the water into the main channel of the river faster – imagine that – a Norwegian with an opinion.  But we’ll cover those at a later date.  I’m sure some of them won’t be real popular, but that’s too bad.

Norwegians are a bit on the nostalgic side, you know, so I went back and looked at some of our flood pictures from previous years.  I guess I shouldn’t have done that as it really sent chills up my spine.  Yes, going through a flood is wearing and extremely stressful, but you deal with it as you have no other choice.  You just keep going because you have to.  But to sit and look at these pictures now requires the use of a Kleenx to wipe the tears away.  And we were always fortunate enough to keep the water out of our house.  I can’t imagine how it would feel to have your basement and/or main floor go under with the dirty, stinky, silty river water.

Here’s a couple of shots of what we were able to leave behind.

 

The damage that is done is heartbreaking, and the time and effort and energy that is expended afterwards to clean everything up is astounding.  I think back to these days and wonder how we ever managed to get it done year after year.  I’m SO thankful we won’t have to do that this year.

Love you all,

Lena

 

You Can’t Roller Skate in a Buffalo Herd

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“Ole,” I yelled from the back of the bike.  “What in heaven’s name (I used different words but won’t print them here) are you doing?” as I grabbed onto him for security.  He was weaving back and forth on the road dodging piles of buffalo poop.  Obviously, there had been a recent crossing of a good-sized herd of buffalo and I think every one of them had left a large deposit on the asphalt.  Believe me, you don’t want to drive through one of those piles because 1) they’re large, 2) they’re slippery, and 3) they STINK!  So as a result that old Roger Miller song came to mind, You Can’t Roller Skate in a Buffalo Herd, and you shouldn’t be driving a motorcycle through one either.  That was a couple of days ago, and I still can’t get that darn song out of my head!

We arrived in Medora on Sunday evening, and after setting up camp we took a spin through the park.  Apparently life has been very good for the buffalo herd as it seems to have become quite prolific over the last year.  There were buffalo ALL OVER.  We didn’t see much else other than prairie dogs and a few wild horses.  Sorry, Gang, no pictures on this leg of the trip as over the years I’ve taken so many pictures of the wildlife in the Badlands I certainly don’t need any more. 

You see, I have a looooong history with Medora and the Badlands.  Ole and I make it a mandatory stop every year on our way home from Sturgis and wherever else we decide to go after Sturgis.  It’s always nice to kind of wind down with some easy rides in a place you know well and are comfortable in.  We don’t do the musical anymore and we don’t do the shopping thing – just the scenery thing – and never get tired of it. 

I remember very vividly the first time I ever saw the Badlands.  I was a little girl of about 4 or 5.  As I’ve written in previous blogs I grew up as “trailer trash” http://oleandlena.areavoices.com/2011/03/27/life-as-a-gypsy/  (please no one take offense if you live in a mobile home, it’s just an expression) and lived the life of a “gypsy.”  (Here again, please don’t attack me for being a racist.  Those of you who’ve read me for a while know about my run-in with a college student a while back because I used the term gypsy.)  http://oleandlena.areavoices.com/2011/03/29/life-as-a-gypsy-part-2/ (Make sure yo read the “comments” on this post).   My father was a road construction worker and we moved about following the work.  We were in the process of moving from one location to another and the Badlands just happened to be on the way.  My father, who loved to travel and explore new areas, decided to drive through the Badlands instead of around them.  He had a 1953 Hudson Hornet at that time, a large heavy car, and was pulling our house with it, an 8 x 32 foot trailer house.  The road through the Badlands at that time was very narrow and covered with scoria, a red rock that’s found in the area.  My mother was terrified as he pulled this trailer house around all the curves, up and down the hills, and hung onto the passenger door handle with her right hand and the edge of the front seat with her left.  She would gasp for breath each time we made a turn around a sharp curve.  Me?  I just placed myself on the floor of the backseat and hid my head under a blanket so I wouldn’t have to look, although curiosity got the best of me periodically and I peaked.  Times are different now – the road is wider and asphalted, although the curves haven’t been straightened out.  But that just makes it all the more fun on a Harley. 

Following our ride we decided to stop at the Little Missouri Saloon for a toddy and possibly some summer.  Two drinks came to $15.50 – WOW!  I guess we won’t do that again.  I think they’re charging New York prices or something.  Dinner was delicious – $45 for 2 burgers, one with onion rings and one with hash browns.  We decided that the next day we would eat what we had in our fridge in the RV. 

We spent Monday dawdling around town taking in a few of the tourist traps – I’m not much of a shopper but went looking for some polished agates.  Medora used to be full of stores that had polished rocks for sale, but none to be found this time around.  The shops seem to be catering to a classier type of clientele than me and carry lost of high end clothing and household goods.  The town is full of specialty stores and sadly, I only found one good old “junk” shop that had the old cheapo tourist falderol.  But of course, no polished agates.  Oh, well.

We’ve really suffered this leg of the trip – no satellite TV!!  Our camp site had several large cottonwood branches hanging in just the right location so we couldn’t get a signal.  We had to tough it out and listen to the satellite radio – one of my favorite stations carries all the old radio shows back from the 40s and 50s – My Friend Irma, Fibber Magee and Mollie, Life of Riley – I’m sure a lot of you folks don’t remember them.  But I grew up with them (so did YOU Burl, so no remarks about age, okay?) and still really enjoy them. 

We’re on the road home this morning.  Ole promised Daisy that she would be able to sleep in her own bed tonight – she showed all those big fangs and smiled!!

That’s all until next time.

Love, Lena

Buffalo Bill and Cody, Wyoming

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I stuck my nose out from under the fluffy comforter and realized that a queen-sized bed is definitely not big enough for two adults, a 100-lb. German Shepherd and two cats, all who had congregated on the bed because they were cold.  “Ole,” I yelled as I poked him in the ribs with my elbow (you see, I had to yell because he wasn’t wearing his hearing aids) “please get up and turn on the furnace, it’s freezing in here.”  After several pokes and a few grunts from him I wandered out to the front of the motorhome and flipped the switch to turn on the furnace.  It took a minute or so and the hum of the fan motor started blowing warm air.  It was soon cozy enough to get up and make coffee.  I gingerly pulled the curtain back to expose the indoor/outdoor thermometer and it read 42 degrees on the outside.  I dropped the curtain back over the thermometer and told Ole I wouldn’t be going anywhere outside until it warmed up “just a bit.”  What a terrible shock to a system that was used to the 90 to 100 degree temps that we’d gotten used to over the last months. 

Anyway, we packed up and headed north to Cody, Wyoming, home to Buffalo Bill and his Wild West Show.  The sky was quite ominous looking to the west with lots of dark rain clouds moving our way and clouds hanging very low in the sky over the mountain tops in the direction of Yellowstone Park.  So when we got to our campgrounds we decided that this would be a day of “kicking back,” watching a movie or two and just staying inside out of the cold north wind that was blowing.  And we did.  Everybody took naps – Daisy, Lucy, Senior Citizen Simon and Ole.  Well, almost everybody – I didn’t. 

The next day dawned bright and sunny so we decided to do a bit of riding, but the priority of MY day was to make a stop at the local quilt store, Friends & Co.  Of course that couldn’t go without a purchase of an item or two (snicker). and this time Ole didn’t greet me when I came out of the store with, “What?  No packages?”  Of course I had packages.  When one has a fabric addiction one never leaves a quilt store without a few yards of fabric. 

The afternoon called for a trip to the Buffalo Bill Dam and a ride farther north through the canyon.  We spotted mountain goats on the wall of the dam – (pictures in the video).  I sure hope they all know how to swim.

We spent the better part of an afternoon at the Old Trail Town, the original town site of Cody, right next to the Stinking River, renamed the Shoshone.  The Stinking River is appropriately named as it smells like someone dumped their sewer on the street.  It’s full of sulpher and depending on which way the wind is blowing can be really offensive to the City of Cody.  Old Trail Town consists of various old buildings from around the area that have been moved to the original townsite, and restored.  Very interesting history if you’re into western stuff.  I’m sure you’ve all seen the movie Jeremiah Johnson starring Robert Redford.  There actually was a Jeremiah Johnston (note JohnSTon instead of JohnSOn), and he actually was attacked by a bear and left to die by his cohorts.  He truly did recover on his own out in the wilderness and searched out the buddies that left him for dead and killed them.  He was known as Jeremiah “Liver Eating” Johnston, and I won’t go into the “liver eating” part – I’ll just leave that to your imagination.  Well, Jeremiah is burried in the Old Trail Town cemetery along with Belle Drewery.

Belle Drewery is known as the Lady in Blue whose ghost still haunts the Cowboy Bar in Meeteetse, along with several of her “boy friends.”  She was part of a three-way trist that ended in the murders of her two male friends.  It’s an interesting story – just google “The Lady in Blue” if you’re interested. 

Following Cody we headed for Medora, ND and the Badlands.  We had originally intended to head north toward Glacier National Park, but after looking at distances and time frames that we had to work within we decided we just didn’t have time to go that far.  Isn’t that pathetic?  Retired and don’t have time???  What’s wrong with this picture, anyway. 

Anyway, we landed in Medora this evening.  We’ve taken a ride through the park, spied quite a bit of wildlife, ran into a several dumbshits in the park (as usual) and had a tasty dinner at the Little Missouri Saloon served by a nice young man from Bulgaria, all of which I’ll tell you about tomorrow. 

Video and pictures attached.  Just click the link.

http://www.onetruemedia.com/shared?p=11604609bf47856464e56f7&skin_id=601&utm_source=otm&utm_medium=text_url

Love, Lena

 

 

Meeteetse & the Cowboy Bar

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“Ole, don’t be a blanket hog,” I yelled at 6 o’clock this morning.  “Just give me some d–n blankets please!”  Ole was wrapped up in the comforter and my backside was hanging out developing frostbite because Senior Citizen Simon and Lucy were snuggled up against him and all the blankets, and weren’t passing any of their BTUs to me.  It was a mere 48 degrees here at Meeteetse this morning.  A far cry from what we’ve been dealing with over the last 10 days at Sturgis or the last 3 months at home in Minnesota. 

Meeteetse is a wide spot in the road with a population of 297 and at an elevation of about 4200 feet.  This town may be small but it has more going for it than you can imagine.  If you ever get to the Cody, Wyoming area I highly recommend making a stop at Meeteetse.

We spent the evening last night at the Cowboy Bar visiting with Big Jim, the owner for the last 18 years.  He’s a walking history book – although he’s tied to a motorized wheel chair at this point in his life.  The research that he carries in his head is extraordinary, although he’s starting to write it all down and to this point has published 11 historical novellas and is currently working on 6 more!! 

You see, the Cowboy bar opened its doors in 1893 back in the days of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid and various other outlaws from back in those days, that all frequented the Cowboy Bar.  At one point one of the well-known outlaws was involved in a standoff on main street, got shot in the head and his body was brought into the Cowboy Bar, layed out on the bar, his pockets emptied and his money spent on drinks for the house for the evening.  A local resident, who was a doctor, went up to the bar, poked his finger in the hole in the guy’s forehead and the back of the outlaw’s skull popped off and his brains went flowing out onto the bar.  There are still bullet holes in the walls and ceiling from various gun fights that took place in the bar “back in the days.”  The bar is full of historical pictures and documents and even has the original player piano that still works sitting up against the wall waiting for someone to play a tune. 

Big Jim is quite an interesting character and it’s so easy to spend hours talking to him and listening to his historical tales.  We spent two hours with him last night and another couple of hours this afternoon that went by so fast it was like snapping your fingers. 

So today when we dropped our boots over the saddle of the “Iron Horse” (Harley) we stopped for lunch at Lucille’s Cafe – another business that’s been operational since the turn of the century.  I had the best egg salad sandwich I’ve had in a long time – served by wonderfully hospitable people.  As we were eating Lucille (the cooke) came out and visited with us.  What a refreshing atmosphere from all the franchise restaurants.  This was real hometown cooking and hospitality.  It was so fun to watch all the local cowboys come in and eat their lunch and listen to their conversations about sheep and cattle and lack of rain. 

After visiting the two museums in town and getting an understanding of the local history, we once again dropped our boots over the saddle of the “iron horse” and took off on the first hard-surfaced road we found.  We rode to the end of it (yes, there is an end to the pavement out here) where we were forced to turn around.  At the end of the road was something called the Pappy Po Butte, where a very important battle took place between two Indian tribes.  Yes, they fought each other back then, not just the White Man.  It was a pretty impressive butte, and looked like a sleeping buffalo.

Then we decided to take the first hard-surfaced turnoff road that we came across and ended up going down the Wood River Road.  The Wood River Valley was filled with wild life and oil wells, all living together in comfort.  We saw more antelope and mule deer this afternoon than we’ve seen on the entire trip along with a timber wolf that was hunting the antelope.  I have a long lense on my camera so I was able to get a decent shot of him. 

Then it was back to the Main Street of Meeteetse for ice cream at the Chocolatier.  The young man who owns this business wanted a new saddle so he could participate in a local rodeo.  His parents wouldn’t buy it for him and his mother told him that because he could make good candy to go to work and make his own money.  So he started the Meeteetse Chocolatier and now has a nation-wide business.  I didn’t sample his chocolates but they looked delicious – I opted for ice cream instead.  Just in case you didn’t know, I’m an ice creamaholic.  Don’t keep it in my house because I can’t leave it alone. 

While at the Chocolatier we met the nicest two couples from Texas that are staying up in Cody.  One of the gentlemen in the group told me I was a “girl after his own heart.”  At my age that really sent a thrill through me.  He told me it was because I was eating ice cream – he would have chosen ice cream over the chocolates also.  It’s pretty pathetic when that type of comment makes an impression – does it mean my age is showing?  (No comments from the peanut gallery, Burl.)

For those of you who read me and don’t know who Burl is, some day I’ll have to tell you about Burl – ole’ buddy, ole’ pal.  (Love you, Burl.)

From the Chocolatier it was back to the Cowboy Bar and more visits with Big Jim for another couple of hours.  You just never get bored talking to Big Jim.  We purchased two of his most recently published books – I can’t wait to read them.  He’s a gem.  I just wish his health was better – I will be surprised if he’s still walking this earth if we come back here in a year or two. 

More pictures – click on the link.

http://www.onetruemedia.com/shared?p=1158faee8e0d69692ee2648&skin_id=601&utm_source=otm&utm_medium=text_url

Love, Lena

THE BIG HORNS & MEETEETSE

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“Oh my gosh,” I hooted as I read the copy of the local paper that I had picked up.  “Ole, you’ve got to listen to this.”  It was an entire page dedicated to the “Opal News.” 

“July 8th was John Heidler’s birthday and to celebrate it they invited friends and relatives to join them that Sunday afternoon for calf roping and goat tying at their home arena.”

“Monday through Wednesday this week Zona Vig spent time visiting Travis and Chandelle Brink and family in Box Elder.  While there she took care of other errands and appointments.”

Margaret Fogelman went into Faith on Monday for an appointment, then Tuesday she kept a therapy appointment in Faith.  Da Fogelman was also in Faith that day as he left his pickup there for repairs.”

This is for REAL, folks, I couldn’t make this up!  You really know you’re in the sticks when this is what makes the newspaper!!

Anyway, it came time to say goodbye to all our Sturgis neighbors until next year.  They’re such a fun group of folks.  We packed up the kids and Beau and sent them on their way and we headed farther west.  Our destination for that day was a little wide spot in the road called Ten Sleep, Wyoming.  We’ve stayed there before and because Ole really needed clean sock and this RV park has a laundry we stopped there again. 

So we took the southern route over the Big Horn Mountains and crossed a creek named Crazy Woman Creek.  I found the name rather intriguing so I did a bit of research on it.  Back in about 1860 or so, (can’t remember the exact date) a fur trader was trapping out the area.  One fall he returned from selling his furs with a white woman as a bride.  Something happened and the fur trader, who had been quite friendly with the local Indians, got on the outs with the Indians.  They captured the trader and his wife and forced her to watch while they tortured him until he died.  They released her and apparently as a result of all this she lost her mind.  She managed to maintain some kind of residence along the creek and the local residents kind of watched over her, kept her in food and saw that she had shelter until she died as an old woman. 

We crossed the Big Horns, with a summit of about 9500 feet.  Then it was all downhill from there.  Eighteen miles of a 9% grade – with lots of hairpins turns – not real fun in a large motorhome.  But thank heavens for the exhaust brake.  The first time we did this a number of years ago we were in a gas rig and by the time we got to the bottom I was in tear from relief that we had even made it to the bottom.  Of course, that was after our previous year’s experience of losing our brakes coming out of Death Valley the winter before.  That was also a 15 mile 9% grade.  My tears at the bottom of the grade at that point were what prompted the purchase of a diesel rig with an exhaust brake.  I didn’t even cry this time!!

We spent the night at a little spot called Ten Sleep.  Another interesting name – I knew the the history at one time, but can’t remember all of it now.  Named by the Indians, it had something to do with it being “ten sleeps” from some other point.  If you’re really interested, do your own damn research (chuckle).

We crossed through the Badlands of Wyoming – a stretch of 50 miles where we didn’t see another sign of life – no ranches, no other vehicles, no power lines, no cell towers – nothing.  All you would see along the highway was a mailbox and then a very long stretch of road (two wheel tracks) going back into the hills to, I suppose, a dwelling of some sort.  What a lonesome existence that must be – miles and miles from anything.

We finally ended up in Meeteetse, Wyoming, which is one of our favorite places that we’ve discovered in our travels.  It’s just a little place, population 297, but what a history it has.  I’ll tell you more tomorrow as we’re headed for the Cowboy Bar tonight.

A few pictures – click on the link.

http://www.onetruemedia.com/shared?p=1157a5cce4f65f99e999b31&skin_id=601&utm_source=otm&utm_medium=text_url

Love, Lena

The Mountain Man of the Black Hills

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“How long you been comin’ down here?” said the scholarly looking older gentleman sitting next to me on the bench on Main Street.  “Well,” I said, “Ole has been coming here every year since 1986.  I’ve only been coming since 1994.”  “Me and the Old Lady, we been comin’ down here since 1972 – and haven’t missed a year!  Ride all the way, too.”  I found out that he and his wife are from Rochester, MN and make the trek every year on their Honda – crossing southern Minnesota and all of South Dakota on their bike, carrying everything they’ll need for a week or more.  From here they were going to pack up and head to Williston, ND and check out the oil fields.  They were hoping they could each get a job doing something there – she could work at Taco John’s and he could drive a truck he thought.  He was 76 and she was 72.  I would have never guessed their ages to be that.

Yesterday was spent taking the curves and turns on Vanocker Canyon Road and Nemo Road.  At one point we stopped for a Butt Break and ran into one of the Mountain Men of the Black Hills.  He was a friendly old soul that rode down to his mail box to retrieve his mail on his quad and stopped to visit with us.  He attire was quite the fashion statement.  His jeans were patches upon patches, the top of his straw cowboy hat was nearly missing and the toes of his steel-toed boots only showed the steel – there was no leather left covering the toes.  He owned 20 acres back in the Hills, had been born and grew up in the immediate area and was a Korean War vet.  We must have visited with him for a good 45 minutes covering everything from his philosphy on life to politics on all levels.  There’s a picture of him in the attached video.

Then it was on down the road, over the pass and on into Deadwood where we stopped at The Chubby Chipmunk, which is one of Friend Karen’s Must Stops. The Chubby Chipmunk is a local store that makes all homemade-hand dipped chocolate truffles of every flavor you could possibly imagine. This time she was thinking ahead and brought her cooler to to stow them in and prevent them from melting in the hot temperatures during the 16 mile trek down the mountain back to Sturgis.

Then, of course, it wouldn’t be a trip to the Black Hills and the Motorcycle Rally unless you got wet at least once. We managed to do it twice this trip.  That’s once thing about the Black Hills – if you don’t like the weather, just wait five minutes.  Today the sky opened up without much warning and dumped buckets of water for about 10 minutes.  Fortunately, we had left downtown Sturgis as the sky was looking threatening and made it back to the campground just as the buckets started to pour.   The day before we weren’t quite so lucky – you can’t imagine how much rain drops hurt when they hit you in the forehead.  Ouch!!

Lovely Daughter and Lars have purchased all their token t-shirts – saving most of their shopping until today, the last day, hoping to get in on some good bargains.  I haven’t purchased ANYTHING as I couldn’t find anything that appealed to me.  Ole would sit on the back of the bike and people watch as I would go out on my shopping sojourns, and he would always greet me when I returned with, “What?  You have no packages?”  “Nope, not today.  Just same sh-t, different day.  Nothing out there I need.”  Unfortunately, there are only three shops on the Main Street that are locally owned.  All the others are owned by, to be politically correct here, “other ethnic groups,” – okay, I’ll just say it – rag heads!!  Ole and I had a bit of a run-in several years ago with one of the owners who tried to cheat us.  He threatened to call the cops, and I told him to go ahead.  He backed down then, but I fooled him and brought the cops back to his tent.  He was just a bit surprised and denied all.  So I’ve made it a policy not to buy anything from a store-front that isn’t locally owned.

People are packing up and pulling out as tomorrow is officially the last day of the rally.  We’ll be pulling out on Sunday heading over the Big Horn Mountains to a little town called Ten Sleep.  There’s a campground there that has a laundry – and Ole is about due to run out of clean shorts even though he’s turned them inside out so I guess I better wash some clothes. 

Click on the link to see the latest pictures and video.

http://www.onetruemedia.com/shared?p=1153854ff5d7ee1afcea291&skin_id=601&utm_source=otm&utm_medium=text_url

Love, Lena

 

 

 

 

PERVERSIONS

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“Lena, Lena, did you get a picture of that?” Ole yelled at me as we were flying down the Interstate.  “Ole, just why would I want a picture of THAT?” as I slapped him on the back of his bald head for the umpteenth time that day!! 

What had gotten Ole so excited was just another “pervert” – a female (I won’t call her a lady) on the back of a bike totally nude from the waste up – her “purchased” boobs bobbling in the wind.  Yes, they did flap a bit as the silicone had sagged just a tish, and the hard discs were beating her chest cavity as they flew by us at faster than the 75 mph that we were riding.  Obviously, her significant other was okay with the whole thing – to each his own I guess. 

Boy – I tell you – you see just a bit of everything here during the bike rally.  There’s a group of Christian bikers that are very apparent in the downtown area – one that drags a large cross up and down the street and hands out literature to anyone that will accept it – to the chicken man and his wife that parade up and down the main street wearing nothing but a jock strap for him and tassels and a g-string for her, with him flashing a rubber chicken out in front of them – what the significance of the rubber chicken is I haven’t a clue. 

Nudity is against the law on the streets of Sturgis, but body paint is considered clothing – so of course there are females who would never think of doing something like this at home that are painted anywhere from their entire fronts to just their nipples.  Wonder what the Judge had on his mind when he passed THAT law!!  Yes, this is a strange place.

Don’t get me wrong – yes there are perverts here, but the majority of the folks who come here come just to ride the beautiful hills and take in the sights.  Downtown Sturgis just happens to be a side light where the “strange” people go to exhibit their wares – and the normal folks go to do their shopping and to gawk at all the strange people.  Average Joe Blow and his wife/girlfriend would never consider doing anything but walking up and down the street and doing their shopping. 

Yesterday was spent with Ole’s Cousin Joe and his wife, just catching up on old times, doing a bit of riding and enjoying each other’s company.  Ole and Cousin Joe spent a lot of time together as young kids growing up out on the farm.  So there was a lot of conversation about old times, reliving stories, etc.  Fun time.  But of course, fun times always have to come to an end and this one did all too early in the evening. 

Lovely Daughter and Lars arrived last night about 6:30 or so, so there was lots of catching up to do even though it had only been less than a week since we’d seen each other and we talk on the phone at least once a day.  Lars has never been to this part of the world before and was totally blown away with its beauty.  He tells me that he’ll be here next year on his own bike enjoying everything. 

To see pictures and video, click on the link.

 http://www.onetruemedia.com/shared?p=115090479f8c5563002c2f8&skin_id=701&utm_source=otm&utm_medium=text_url

Love, Lena

DAISY’S BIG RESPONSIBILITY

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You know, every campground has their problems and issues – especially during bike week.  Even though we’re in one of the more “calm and quiet” campgrounds with an owner/operator that keeps close tabs on things there can still be issues.  So there are those campground residents that are kind enough to keep watch on things and quell the issues as soon as they arise. 

For those of you who don’t know, Daisy is an eleven year old German Shepherd that travels with us whenever the RV leaves the yard.  She supervises the loading and all the maintenance that takes place prior to making a trip, and worries when something goes wrong. She makes sure that the two cats that travel with us (Senior Citizen Simon & Lucy) behave themselves and always find the litter box.  Once we arrive at the campground she exits the RV and announces her presence with several loud barks, then makes the rounds of all the surrounding campers introducing herself, giving everyone a good sniff, and if she really likes you maybe a lick or two. 

Most everyone in our “camping neighborhood” has at least one dog, although most of them are on the smaller side – poodles, yorkies, mostly little dust mops.  So of course, Daisy, with her instinctive herding nature, makes sure that they all stay within their boundaries.  Believe me, when those little dogs wander out of their territory and they receive a poke in their behind from a dog that weighs 100 lbs. they run for their lives back to their sanctuary. 

As you can see, Daisy has a big job ahead of her for the next 10 days.  Here’s a shot of Daisy “on guard.”

And Senior Citizen Simon doing what he does best.  He started claiming the laundry basket at home so we decided to bring it along so he had something familiar.  You see, he’s 21 years old, blind and deaf and gets around totally by his whiskers. 

And then there’s Lucy, my little chatterbox.  Judging from the way she “talks” all the time and her sky blue eyes, I would guess she’s part Siamese.  She was so thin when she came to us about 6 months of age, that you could see every rib and her back bone.  She’s chunked up now to the point that she’s nicknamed Pork Chop and Bubble Butt!

 It’s a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood – remember that song that Mr. Rogers would sing at the beginning of his program?  Well, our camping neighborhood is like old home week.  Many of us have had the same camping spots since this campground opened up in 2001.  Karen and Dave arrived from Arizona, although they were two days late due to trouble on the road.  Something went wrong with the computer in their truck and they were stranded for 12 hours out in the wilds of Wyoming.  Then there’s Smitty and his family consisting of his wife, son and daughter-in-law.  They’re out of Alliance, Nebraska.  He’s retired military and now owns his own electrically contracting company.  There’s Jeff & Jerry, father and son from Huron, South Dakota.  They’re big cattle ranchers and operate 17 sections of land.  His beef is all organic and every year he stocks his freezer with steaks and hamburger that we dine on.  The steaks are always an inch thick and you can cut them with a fork.  They are wonderful.  Next to Jeff and Jerry is Chris – he’s a newbie in our neighborhood and is here with his wife, two young boys and his mother-in-law and father-in-law.  They’re here all the way from Los Angeles.  They don’t own a bike but they’re here because his wife has a job at the Full Throttle Saloon.  If you don’t know about the Full Throttle Saloon click here:  http://www.fullthrottlesaloon.com/  Chris is a 16-year vet from the Marine Corps and has spent 16 years on the Los Angeles Police Department, many of those years on the vice squad so he’s got quite some stories to tell.  We’re still awaiting Rocky and Billie out of Kansas City, and Don and Bernie from Arkansas.  So it will be a full house. 

You would think that with this group of people that our area would be “party city.”  WRONGO BUCKO!  We’re all of the age group where we’re back at the campground by 5 o’clock and most of us in bed by ten.  So, if you’re interested, you’ll just have to bear with the boring details as they unfold over the week ahead.

Love, Lena

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’D BUTCHER THAT DAMN ROOSTER IN A HEARTBEAT!

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We made it to Faith, SD last night – after an extremely rough ride for the last 70 miles.  Both Ole and I have now had our practice for riding bucking broncos so we can enter  the next rodeo we come across.  (I know there’s a bull at the Full  Throttle Saloon – but they only let topless women ride that  and I’m not up for that – sorry.)  The road between Lemmon, SD and Faith is so rough and so narrow  you’re truly taking your life in your hands when you travel on it.  And in addition, this time there was a ton of road construction – maybe SD finally realized they needed to do something about that highway. 

Anyway, I always go through the rig from front to back and make sure that all the “hatches are battened down” and locked up securely.  I really hate to have things flying around while we’re traveling down the road.  Things have a tendency to break when that happens and besides that it scares the livin’ tar out of the cats.  Poor Simon got hit on the head with a small candle that went flying off the table.  And this poor cat is blind so doesn’t have a clue what’s going on.  At least Lucy can duck and cover when things get wild.  This trip the road was so rough that not only did some of the cupboards come flying open, but the bumps even blew out part of our electrical system.  The rearview camera quit, Ole couldn’t get his power window up or down, the dash fan quit working – well, you get the idea.  After we “landed” Ole trouble shot things and informed me that things had come loose under the dash and the problem was fixable once we got to Sturgis and could get parts.  Obviously there were no “parts” available in Faith as that town rolls up its sidewalks at five o’clock.

We always spend the night at the city park in Faith.  It’s a nice little park on the edge of town with big trees for shade, lots of room to run Daisy, and it’s fairly quiet – except for last night.  There is a small farm/ranch site located about a quarter of a mile from the park.  Obviously, they have chickens – or at least they definitely have a rooster.  With his attitude he’s probably driven all the hens away – just sayin’ is all.  Someone forgot to instruct him in the difference between day and night – light and dark.  This feathered monstrosity started crowing at MIDNIGHT last night and let loose every three minutes until the sun came up this morning.   Apparently his owners are so used to him they don’t even hear him anymore.  That stringy old geezer would be in my stew pot so fast he wouldn’t know what hit him.  I’d choke his last crow right out of his scrawny old neck.  Just remember – if you come to stay at my  house – DON’T CROW!!. 

Other casualties/issues of the day:  We finally got the satellite receiver working after having a service call from Direct TV.  Fortunately when I contracted with Direct TV I bought a maintenance contract so this was all on their dime.  Then we blew a fitting in the water system – when Ole was loading water on it was running out as fast as he was putting it in.  Unfortunately, the leak was INSIDE the coach – not outside so I had a lot of water to mop up and carpet to dry out.  Then – as Ole was hooking up the motorcycle trailer and we were just ready to pull out of the yard I noticed a hissing noise coming from just behind the right front wheels.  This was extremely distressing as we had just spent $1500 on new tires all around and I couldn’t imagine why we’d be having tire problems.  After close inspection Ole discovered a leaking air line.  This RV has air suspension – so keeping the air INSIDE the line is kind of important.  An easily fixable problem as long as we were at home and not on the road.  So after numerous trips back and forth from the RV to the shop, Ole had it fixed and we were on the road. 

All went well until Ole decided to turn on the in-dash a/c.  Last fall we had to have the compressor and a few other parts on the A/C replaced.  More $$$.  Everything worked fine.  So this is the first time we’ve used the rig this summer because we’ve been so busy.  So Ole flipped the switch, pushed the button and what do we get?  Hot air.  So we ended up just driving down the road with the windows open.  By this time we’re both getting a bit frustrated – but what do you do. Ole has the stuff along to fix it, but didn’t have the correct fitting.  Once again – wait until we get to a hardware store in Sturgis – as the one in Faith had locked the door and pulled the shades at 5 o’clock. 

We’re currently driving through a wide spot in the road called Mud Butte.  Real exciting town that consists of one gas station/post office.  This is the last leg of our journey for today and we should be seeing Bear Butte shortly – that’s just outside of Sturgis.  Hopefully we won’t have any more fiascos, but fortunately those we have had so far have been easily fixable and just inconveniences. 

Stay tuned for the saga – (I’ll just have to teach you more Norwegian words.)

Love, Lena