We left Billings knowing the first leg of our journey would only be an hour. Glen has always wanted to see the Little Big Horn Battlefield where Lt. Col George Armstrong Custer and the 7th Calvary lost their battle with warriors of the Lakota and Cheyenne tribes under Chief Tatanka-iyotanka (Sitting Bull) on June 25th, 1876. The historic site was on the road we would take into Wyoming so stopping to experience the history was a viable option. Ironically, we missed the anniversary of the battle by 2 days so didn't see the reenactment.
Since the 1990s, the Little Big Horn Battlefield National Monument has been modified to reflect the history of both sides rather than just the 'white man's' point of view. There are red granite grave markers to honour fallen native warriors among the white marble ones originally erected to show where Calvary men fell. The Spirit Warriors monument to native American losses now stands near one to fallen U.S. soldiers on Last Stand Hill. There was a small museum of artifacts at the site but walking up Last Stand Hill past the gravestone markers was a more moving experience. The meadow was awash with colourful wild flowers and the grass a verdant green. A friendly ranger remarked that a couple of days of 90 degree heat would soon paint the hillside brown.
After spending an hour at the site, we headed south. I had heard Wyoming was a lonely land but wasn't prepared for the total lack of human habitation. Except for the highway, fences, and the odd wind farm with giant turbines, the countryside was rolling green hills under a crystal blue sky. We saw hundreds of pronghorn antelope and many deer. Cattle did range the land and some vistas were reminiscent of a Zane Grey novel with the grey-green sagebrush softening the browns of rocky outcrops and coulees.
The population of this large state is only 575,000 so no wonder you can drive for miles without seeing a single ranch or town. The rest stops were further apart too, but I loved Wyoming. I felt I could breathe here and experience true freedom. I'd have to learn how to ride a horse, of course, and deal with rattlesnakes, I'm sure, but to live in such a wide open space would compensate for that.
At the town of Buffalo, we changed to the I-25 highway which would take us to Denver. It veered east at Casper then headed south to Cheyenne, the capital of Wyoming. The drive was a delight according to Glen as everyone kept to the speed limit and were polite if you chose to pass by slowing down to let you do so. State troopers pulled several out-of-state cars over for speeding so they are strict with enforcement.
When we hit the Colorado state line, the traffic doubled and it was like driving in Calgary again. We got stopped by an accident outside of Fort Collins so didn't arrive at Geoff's place until 6:30 pm. They had just finished supper and so lingered while we ate ours. It was great seeing the grandmonkeys again. It never ceases to amaze me how quickly they grow.
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