On Friday, after work, we drove to Scottsbluff, Nebraska, where I lived before coming to Colorado thirty years ago. We ate at Applebee’s and stayed at the Hampton Inn. Everything was fine. I like western Nebraska. Scottsbluff is so far west that it is only about twenty-five miles to the Wyoming border.
Saturday morning, we headed to Lusk, Wyoming for the performance of The Legend of Rawhide, which we had never seen but heard about from a gal who used to live there before coming to Fort Collins. She told us to stay with her Aunt Dottie at her bed and breakfast, which we did.
While waiting for the evening performance, we poked around town. We visited the local museum and the local pub. At the pub, a bunch of young men in cowboy hats was drinking and playing pool. They had an odd custom of sharing a jar of pickle juice. When offered to Miss Sugar and myself, after we remarked about it, we declined. No regrets about that decision. The cheeseburger I got with tater tots was pretty good, but I doubt we will be back. The patrons were too loud for my taste.
Aunt Dottie’s bed and breakfast was lovely. She has a mansion-like house with a balcony off the second floor rooms. In the stairway is a stained glass window imported from Italy. It looks like it belongs in a cathedral.
The performance was very well done, all by local folks. Some played mountain men, some Sioux Indians, and some were folks on a wagon train passing through Wyoming on the way to Oregon. They had fast galloping horses when the Indian warriors circled the wagon train for a battle after one of the pilgrims shot the chief’s daughter, which is a sure way to incur the wrath of them Sioux. I was impressed by how the Lusk community comes together to put this on. Well done. If you visit Lusk next year, you will probably like it too.
This morning, Aunt Dottie put out a good breakfast, which we shared with a family from California. Mr. and Mrs. California knew about this weekend because they grew up in the area before migrating on to California.
After breakfast, Miss Sugar and I traveled about eighty miles east again to Fort Robinson, a former cavalry outpost in the Pine Ridge area of Nebraska. It has a rich history, including the infamous distinction of being where Crazy Horse surrendered. Sad for him, after surrendering, he was assasinated by a half-breed. It was not a fair fight. Now the fort is a state park. This is another place I recommend that people interested in the West visit. Not far away is the Pine Ridge Reservation, which has a history of its own, including the site of the Wounded Knee incident that Dee Brown wrote about years ago in his book, Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee.
We just got home and were glad that it rained a lot while we were gone. That surely helped put out the fires. Thank you, Lord!