Sorry You Couldn't Come Along

For terrific collections of barbed wire (see photo) and straight razors, check out the Laramie Plains Museum in the old Ivinson mansion. The organization that rescued the place has done a fantastic job at restoration and attracting donations of artifacts, perhaps a few too many. Our docent shared the story of how 600 sheep were massacred by cattle interests. Even more grim, later in Rock Springs we read up on the massacre of Chinese scab miners by white miners never brought to justice (but treated as local heroes) and a local outlaw who was lynched and flayed. Egad. On to Jackson Hole!

Our thanks to Cousin John for being alert (and actually reading this little blog). If anyone from Montana (or who knew anything at all about geography) had read our post on the big sky country, they would have been horrified to have us call Wyoming by their sacred designation!

Thanks, John!

It really is true. Wyoming is big sky country. It’s striking; and absolutely beautiful. Reminds Ken of Mongolia, except the roads are better. Wind is the coming big industry here. Plenty of it. Antelope are here and there off the highway. The weather may not hold for tomorrow when we head to Jackson and Signal Mountain. The windmills line the ancient ridges channeling the spirits of long ago dancers to bring rain to land that struggles to be green.

After learning how they make their pork green chili at the Copper Kitchen in La Junta, we found a different inspiration in the newly created neighborhood around the Denver airport (Grandma needed to fly back east for another graduation). Looks like nothing is more than three years old as they gobble up ranch land to house us travelers. The Thai Chili & Sushi offered a nice change of pace with some competent food, if odd decor. While the Copper Kitchen sent us on our way with God’s blessings for a safe journey, TC&S provided a more ambiguous message at the end of our meal.

Who knew that La Junta would be worth a journey or that a Boy Scout troop could assemble a world class collection of Indian artwork, artifacts, and regalia. Having been to the National Museum of the American Indian in both Washington, DC and Manhattan, we were stunned at the collection assembled over 80 years by a bunch of boys in a small town in Colorado. The Koshare Indian Museum is funded by performances of Indian social dances (never religious), including a tour of Japan. With carefully maintained relationships with the Native American community, they also regularly purchase artwork from living artists. All costumes for the dances are made by the boys and thoroughly researched. These are hard working lads. Well worth a visit.

That’s how it feels sometimes. We’ve forgotten so much. The “worth a journey” attraction in La Junta is Bent’s Fort. Say what?

Way back when the border between the US and Mexico was the Arkansas river in what is now Colorado, the Bent brothers – William and Charles – founded a trading post with a partner and created a thriving business with the trappers and Indians in an outpost of civilization complete with peacocks. That was 1833. The trade turned to buffalo hides, William married Owl Woman, Colonel Stephen Kearney decided to invade Mexico (taking over the civilian fort for his base of operations), Kit Carson and many mountain men visited frequently, Charles became governor of New Mexico and was killed in the Taos uprising against American rule, William continued to go to bat for his Indian friends and relatives, and the fort was destroyed by fire. Phew. All that by 1849. Thanks to the meticulous measurements and drawings of a visitor to the fort, it was rebuilt in1975 and is now a living history museum maintained by the National Park Service. Again, well worth a visit.

Well, yes , we all managed a smile for the camera after 8 hours in the car together. Not a bad accomplishment for our fearless travelers, some more weary than others. This caboose converted into a drive-up bank reminded us that we’re still on the Santa Fe trail.

OK, it’s not our main objective, but when the chance for some good food comes up, we’ll grab it. The Mission Deli was suggested by our hotel after we nixed the “just down the street” suggestion of a place Amanda knew had been panned by reviewers. We ate well and added a fried relleno to the new experiences started last night with a fried pickle in Topeka.  

On our way from La Junta to Rocky Ford for dinner, Jim just had to jump out of the car for this picture of far more cattle than we had seen of people all day. We didn’t want to think about it too much. Stepping out of the restaurant later in the evening, it was hard to miss the smell of country air.