We left Hardin, MT this morning without a single tear and headed eastward. We’d already been to the farthermost Western point of our trip in Yellowstone National Park and were now embarking on new territory in South Dakota. There is a band of attractions along I-90 that runs from west to east across the state. We hope to hit them all, since we’ve never been this way before.

Along the way we found ourselves sidetracking to Sundance, WY and Sturgis, SD. I thought the former was the site of Robert Redford’s Sundance Film Festival and the latter was a great homage to Harley Davidson’s motorcycles. The truth is that Redford’s Sundance is in Utah; and the Harley Davidson museum is not very interesting unless you’re a biker. Earl and I have never been one. We dispatched these two attractions in record time, even though the clerk at the HD museum said it would be the best four dollars we ever spent.

Then it was on to Custer, SD where we are staying three nights. By this time it was a long way from breakfast, so we had dinner before checking into our cabin. Earl is now watching Night Two of the RNC, while I’m in the other room working and writing.

Tomorrow it’s on to the various attractions in the area, and I hope we won’t be as disappointed as we were with Sundance and Sturgis.

As a child, I learned about the Battle of Little Bighorn; only it was more commonly referred to as Custer’s Last Stand. Custer himself was portrayed as an American military hero who was unjustly annihilated by a group of several Indian tribes who banded together in Montana to fight the U.S. Army.

Fast forward to present day: Today Earl and I spent eight hours exploring the actual battlefield and learning what happened. It’s true Custer and his 210 men were annihilated on June 25, 1876; but to say it was “unjust” is, in itself, unjust.

After listening to park rangers, viewing a video, taking a guided tour, and walking the actual terrain of the Little Bighorn Battlefield, I think I have at least a primitive understanding of the historical situation. In a nutshell, it was a clash of cultures.

By various governmental decrees, the Great Plains Indian tribes had been relegated to reservations and a way of life that was markedly different from what they knew. Some of the Indians abided by the decrees (or treaties) while others did not. It really didn’t matter, because the United States Government didn’t adhere to their own treaties. For example, when gold was discovered in the Black Hills on the Indian reservation in South Dakota, our country allowed panhandlers and settlers to invade the lands we’d earlier given to the Indians. This ultimately led to an amassing of several tribes of Indians in the Little Bighorn Region just off the reservation. These Indians felt their spiritual home had been invaded.

Enter the U.S. Army, which was ordered to bring the Indians back to the reservation. Lt. Colonel George Armstrong Custer was part of this contingent, although not its first in command. It’s a long, convoluted story of generals, lower ranking officers, lack of communication, and misunderstanding of the number of Indians involved that lead to Custer’s defeat. But was it unjust? I don’t think so.

Basically, Custer was to have waited for additional troops to arrive on June 26, the day after the massacre. He did not follow orders but attacked a superior force of Indians on June 25. At that time, he also split his men into three groups and sent two of them to other parts of the battlefield. They were beyond his help, when he needed them. Yet, had he waited for the other troops to arrive on June 26, history might have told a different tale.

Either way, it seems to me that the Indians were the ones who were treated unjustly in terms of treaties and treatment, and they seized the moment to retaliate. Custer was merely in the wrong place at the wrong time.

After leaving Little Bighorn Battlefield, we went to eat at the Purple Cow, an establishment touted by our Fodor’s guidebook. We saw the sign from the highway, but when we arrived we learned the Purple Cow had gone out of business and was replaced by a Chinese buffet. I think we felt a little like Custer, expecting one thing and experiencing another. Someone should tell Fodor’s.

Today we drove north from Cody, WY into Montana so that we could visit the Little Bighorn Battlefield. On the way, the first town in Montana we came to was named Belfry, just miles over the border. We looked for a population sign but found none. We looked for a grocery store and saw what might pass as the local establishment. We weren’t looking for the local Belfry school, but came upon it when we turned to follow Route 72. There, in front of the building, was the school motto: “Home of the Bats.”

I did not make this up.

Moving north we finally came to the first interstate we’d seen in over ten days since leaving Rock Springs, WY and heading north to Jackson. It felt strange to drive at seventy miles an hour; in no time at all we reached Billings, MT. Our guidebook noted that Billings has doubled its population every thirty years and finally reached 100,000 people in 2007. This makes it the largest city in a 500 mile radius.

But we didn’t stop. Our destination was Hardin, MT, which is the “city” closest to the entrance to the Little Bighorn Battlefield and clearly home to less than 100,000 residents. Our guidebook also noted that the best restaurant there is the Purple Cow. However, when we arrived at our motel we asked the clerk for a recommendation. She said to eat at the Four Aces, which is what we did. If you think broasted chicken is a gourmet meal, you would not be disappointed at the Four Aces.

I’ve noticed that, as the weeks pass, our culinary criteria decline. Of all the things on this trip that have not be impressive, I would say the food ranks Number One. Broasted chicken is all right, but it didn’t live up to the clerk’s high praise.

Earl has already decided we’re eating at the Purple Cow tomorrow after we spend the day at Little Bighorn. I checked the guidebook one more time for its recommendation. Basically, it said the Purple Cow was so popular because it is the best restaurant within a 200 hundred mile radius. I guess the guidebook didn’t visit the Four Aces. Since we will have visited both, we can make an informed decision. And perhaps I’ll share our findings.

We’ve been on the road two weeks, with two more to go. Along the way, we’ve learned a tip or two to enhance our travels. I suspect those pioneers who started from St. Louis, Missouri, in the late 1880s said the same thing.

For instance, we’ve purchased a reusable water bottle instead of buying plastic bottles filled with water that cram our landfills. We get ice from the ice machine at the motel we’re staying at, fill the bottle with it, and then top off with water. The water stays cooler longer as we’re driving. The pioneers probably kept an eye out for a rambling stream to fill their water pouches.

Our packing procedure has also been refined. After seeing more than one authentic Conestoga wagon, we have learned to make better use of our car space. Because we didn’t know what kind of weather we’d encounter, we packed for extremes. So far, we haven’t needed the rain gear, the heavy winter coat, or the wooly hats and gloves. Instead of bringing them into the motel each time, we leave all the peripheral gear in a suitcase in the trunk, at the ready if needed. The suitcase is named “The Beast.” Of course, pioneers didn’t sleep in motels; their entire wagon could be called “The Beast.”

We have also honed our criteria for lodging. After a stay in a primitive cabin in Yellowstone, hot water was added to the list. The pioneers probably never considered this. Already on the list is Internet access, complimentary breakfast, preferably first floor accommodations, and two rooms for two people if we’re staying more than one night (Explanation to follow).

If we’re hunkering down for more than one night, we must consider that Earl loves television noise, while I love the noise of silence. I work on my computer in the evenings after we’ve visited every tourist attraction in sight. He channel surfs. So we’ve found that a two room suite in an economical motel is just the thing. If you’re wondering what “economical” looks like, it’s either an AmericInn or America’s Best Value Inn. The thread count on the sheets is minimal, but the enhancement to our trip is maximal.

We are so entranced with Cody, WY, that we found ourselves looking at properties advertised in the window of a local realty office. What’s not to like? Low sales tax and low property taxes, no state income tax, gentle winters with three to six feet of snow, and views of mountains no matter what direction you look.

Cody is also home to amazing tourist attractions (which may or may not be a plus for local residents, outside of the income they produce). The four outstanding attractions are the Buffalo Bill Historical Center, the Cody Trolley Tour, the Old Trail Town, and the Buffalo Dam and Visitors’ Center. Before we depart in two days, we will have seen them all.

We spent most of today in the Buffalo Bill Historical Center, which is really six museums rolled into one admission price. It’s a good thing that the admission fee allows one to visit for two days, since information overload is a problem. I have no idea how one could see everything in one visit.

Today, we saw the Yellowstone exhibit, the Buffalo Bill Cody exhibit, the Whitney Gallery of Western Art, and the largest firearms exhibit in the world. We studied Russells and Remingtons and Winchesters and Colts. Each had a hand in the West in very different ways.

Tomorrow, we’ll return to see the museum devoted to the Plains Indians and the sculpture garden outside where there are various sculptures of Bill Cody at various stages of his life. We also plan to visit the Old Trail Town (outside the Historical Center), a collection of twenty-six authentic frontier buildings that date to the late nineteenth century. Among them is a building from Butch Cassidy’s “Hole in the Wall” gang.

In between these excursions into the Old West, we’ll do laundry in our motel, eat the mandatory motel breakfast, acknowledge it is Sunday, and get ready to move on up the road to Hardin, MT, a primary entry to the Little Big Horn area. We want to see what happened to General George Armstrong Custer in that natural habitat.

At the same time, we’re most taken with Cody. It remains to be seen if we can find a condo here that suits our needs, but that doesn’t mean we won’t come back.

This morning we said “Goodbye” to Yellowstone National Park. I didn’t think I would be as sad as I was; there is so much here that defies description and requires personal viewing. Additionally, the fact that we could not be on the Internet added to the intensity of the experience. We could enjoy the “wild” instead of constantly checking in.

It took us all of two hours, but we drove a hundred miles to Cody, Wyoming, a town about the size of St. Joseph, Michigan, but markedly different after one acknowledges population. It’s definitely western, having been established by Buffalo Bill Cody in the early, early 1900s.

In fact, we had dinner in the Irma Hotel, the very hotel Cody built back then and named for his youngest daughter. We sat at the bar that Queen Victoria is said to have gifted Cody after he and his Wild West show performed in London with her in attendance.

Now we’re in for the night in our motel suite with Earl in the bedroom watching the Chicago Bears in an exhibition game, while I’m in the living room working.

We think we’ll be here three days as there are many sights to entice us. A full-fledged rodeo, an historic town, four museums about the old West, and even information about the internment of Asians here during World War II.

The odd thing is we never had any intention of visiting Cody. But, while we were in Denver visiting my aunt and uncle, Aunt Alice told us of the bounty that was a traveler’s delight in Cody. So we changed our route, have come here instead of Billings, MT, and so far have enjoyed it.

Today was spent looking for elusive wildlife as we experienced the Canyon, Washburn, and Tower-Roosevelt areas of the park. From my perspective, it was challenging. Not because I’m afraid of wild animals, but because I’m very afraid of heights. Little did I know when we started this morning that we would be going from six thousand feet above sea level to almost ten thousand feet, with sheer precipices on one side or the other of our vehicle.

As the day progressed, I learned not to look out the window. Also, as the day progressed we found more and more wildlife. Bison, golden eagles, a lone wolf, pronghorn, and finally a black bear. Our bus would pull over so the tourists (domesticus touristicus) could snap their cameras while I came out from under the seat to see the wildlife. (Turns out I’m better on heights when the vehicle isn’t moving.)

At the end of the day, we were returning to Canyon Lodge when someone on our bus sighted a forest fire in the distance. It wasn’t just the smoke which we had been feeling all day. It was the actual flames of the fire. Burning brightly across the area and competing with the moon for attention.

We are now in our cabin, but who knows what tomorrow will bring. If you’ve seen the devastation of the 1988 fire and understand how long it takes to rebuild, you pray that this current fire will be contained and doused somehow, soon.

It was the wildest animal we saw today.

This morning we “broke camp” at The Old Faithful Inn. But before we headed north to Canyon Lodge we saw Old Faithful erupt one last time. I also took a couple mile walk around Geyser Hill. If the various geysers we saw yesterday were amazing, they paled in comparison to the forty geysers that dot the hill. “Beehive” and “Giantess,” for instance are two of the world’s largest. Unfortunately, many tourists think the main attraction is Old Faithful, and they don’t take time to visit the spooky, eerie, other-world-like area mere steps beyond it.

Earl and I then headed to Canyon Lodge, approximately 54 miles away. It took us two and a half hours, as we stopped to see a great view of the Lower Falls. But it was the bison on the road and the cars on each side of it that really slowed us. Millions of these animals roamed North American at the turn of the nineteenth century; by the turn of the twentieth approximately 24 wild bison remained. It is only through the conservation efforts of the last century that the current Yellowstone herd has climbed to 4700. I don’t think we saw all 4700 of them, but I’d guess we saw a couple hundred.

Our lodging at Canyon Lodge is probably the most rustic that we will stay at. Ever. On any trip.

Perhaps with a description in my guide book of “pioneer cabin,” I should have been forewarned, but I booked it sight unseen last November and thought it would be a contrast to the historic Old Faithful Inn. I was right on that point.

We do have running water and indoor plumbing, but that’s about it. For a city gal, this is roughing it. No TV, no phone, no Internet, no air conditioning, no coffee pot, no microwave, no ice unless you want to walk a quarter mile down the road. Only the opportunity to sight bears up close and personal. I suspect we’ll sleep like babies. Which could mean that we’re up a lot, uncomfortable, and whiney. Or that we’re so exhausted from our travels that we pass out. Report is due tomorrow.

I am awed by the challenge. How can I humbly describe what Earl and I saw on our guided tour today through Yellowstone’s magnificent features when there have been books and films and videos that have recorded the park’s glory? We’ve seen it in movies that were filmed here, in Ken Burns’ homage to our national parks, and in – sorry to report – commercials.

Briefly, over an eight hour day we saw lodges and geysers and springs and waterfalls and canyons, each one different from the one before. I can’t add anything to what has already been said, so I turn to various tidbits to make memories. For instance, the tour guide (named Peachy) said that the best chicken wings he’d ever eaten were at Old Faithful Inn, where we are staying. Later on, we ordered some for dinner; and he was right.

Peachy was most knowledgeable about Yellowstone, and any efforts to “Stump the Tour Guide” were unsuccessful.

I was also struck with how many restroom facilities there are throughout this wilderness park. I guess with over three million tourists each year, management figured out long ago what’s really important.

There was a couple on the tour who was enamored of everything. His name was Joey; I didn’t catch her name. But each was armed with a camera, and together they asked more questions and took more photos than the rest of us did collectively. At first, I found this annoying; but as time passed Joey’s curiosity about everything was rather refreshing. He was as excited about the last bison we saw as he was about the first one several hours earlier. How he will ever distinguish which one is which I don’t know.

Since we missed our dinner reservation in the Old Faithful Inn Dining Room last night, we made sure we were on time tonight. With no air conditioning, we thought the room might be stuffy; but large, old-fashioned windows opened to allow the evening air. While the ambience transports one back into the early half of the 1900s, the appetizers and entrees are quite contemporary. We passed on the all-you-can-eat beef buffet (although many diners didn’t), and settled for the aforementioned chicken wings and chicken-cashew lettuce wraps with ponzu sauce.

One last impression: Everywhere we went we saw signs warning visitors to keep their distance from any wildlife. The standard distance for bears and wolves is 100 yards; it’s 25 yards for all other animals. Additionally, on more than one occasion, we were handed instructions on what to do if we saw a bear or a bison in particular. Unfortunately, we saw many tourists within a much closer range, all trying for that perfect shot. I hope their day ended as well as ours.

Before leaving Grand Teton National Park, there was one more sight I wanted to see: Jackson Lake Lodge with its 385 rooms, its sixty foot picture windows in the lobby, and its outdoor heated swimming pool. I suspect it is the most posh accommodations in the entire park. But it wasn’t so much the lodge and its accoutrements that interested me. It was the view.

From the outdoor porch one sees verdant fields that melt into Jackson Lake itself on one side while the Tetons come down to the water’s edge on the other. So much diversity in this panoramic view. It’s breathtaking.

An added benefit was the two young people who had four raptors to show passersby. All four birds were unable to sustain themselves in the wild for various reasons. But their bad luck enabled people like us to see a Golden eagle, two falcons, and one owl up close and personal. We were within inches of them, as they each sat on their own perch and their handlers answered questions.