Last time in Denver and some observations.
My youngest son and I took off to the Little Big Horn to see where Custer made a fool of himself. He died for it and took a whole bunch of others with him. We spent the night in Hardin, Montana in a cheap, yet clean hotel, in a small room with double beds. There was not much to the town of 3600 people. It was not a dangerous place to be either. I felt more danger in Mesa AZ. We the gray-hairs, are viewed as being vulnerable.
Craig and I went looking for a restaurant. Everything was buttoned up tight due to Covid. This included its best pizza place. All due to the pandemic. I guess no one there knew Covid is no worse than a cold or the flu? I had the two Covid shots and another for the latter. Colds come and go
We ended up ordering food at the a liquor store attached to a closed bar. Fortunately, they had a grill. Shoulda got the burger as the breaded fish was not like you would get at a fish fry in Wisconsin or Michigan. One can always hope they found an unknown gem. Since the bar was closed, we picked up some bourbon, and retreated to our room. Hardin like other little towns are are suffering badly from Covid. The infrastructure was looking tired too.
Hardin was struggling. The local grocery store was the only place having cars in the parking lot and people inside.
There were not many people at the Little Bighorn battle field. The site has a cemetery and we spent some time reading the stones. One thing I did notice was with each retreat, attempt to rescue Custer, or Reno’s retreat from the Little Bighorn village was a trail of tomb stones. There remains an unexplored ravine were solders were trapped and shot from above.
At nearby Billings, MT; we stopped to eat dinner before returning to Hardin. The waitress was trying to be noticed by my young son. He was busy doing other things on his phone. I asked him why he did not respond in a manner to her. He said she was unfriendly. I listened to her conversations and agreed. Pretty only goes a short way in life.
The next morning, we took off to Cody, Wyoming to visit the museum. If we had time, I think going to Yellowstone would have been more interesting. About 45 minutes into the departure, I discovered I left my Movado watch at the hotel in Hardin. We turned around and got it at the front desk. And took off through the snow into the mountains of Wyoming again.
Cody, WY was different from Hardin, MT. We plurged by staying in a LaQuinta Inn this time. Compared to the Homestead Inn, plenty of room and my son paid for the room again. I picked up the bill for food and liquor. Not sure who made out on that arrangement. Vibrant town and touristy. Plenty of places to eat and people out on the streets. Buffalo Bill’s museum brings in the touristy crowd. And skiing brings in the ski crowd. Not a down hill skier. I do like cross country skiing.
We toured the Native American wing of the Buffalo Bill museum and talked to the staff pointing out a couple of things they did not know about the Little Big Horn site. Kind of surprised some who worked at the museum did not visit the Little Bighorn.
There is also a large collection of various bullet-spewing-weapons in a couple of wings for those who love to play with them. Quite a few animal trophies. The museum is an interesting place to visit and worth a day of looking around it. A lot of tales about Buffalo Bill and his history is all over the museum.
There is a contrast in America. Little towns struggling and bigger towns making out. Much of which the success of being prosperous can be or is due to industry or travel destinations located in them. If America is to be successful, it would behoove its politicians to pay attention to the plight of small towns too and the abandoned inner cities.
There is more to be written as we were making our way across the US from Chicago to Denver and into Phoenix, AZ. Later . . .