Saturday dawned clear and cold, with patches of snow all over and snow on the mountains all around.
We took the old road to Hardin and stopped at Lammer’s Trading Post, the oldest Indian store left in the town. There is a lot of old pawned beadwork in the shop and that volume is amazing.
We set up at a motel meeting room and met with some more artists. We saw some totally fabulous belts. Nobody makes belts like those Crows, I’m telling you. It’s quite a chore to bead through harness leather and I can’t figure out quite how they do it on the edge.
We made some more contacts and then headed south and east on Highway 212 towards home. The afternoon was clear and bright, and we could hear meadowlarks singing even through the closed windows of the van.
Spring is coming very late this year, and there was only the merest hint of green coming through the tawny, dun-colored grasses.
We went up and over the same divides, only we were heading east and the view was completely different. Clusters of antelope, and occasionally mule deer, watched us expectantly from the sides of the highway and we watched the prairie dip and roll, drawing our eyes to the pine-capped serrated ridges that unfolded in orderly tiers to each horizon.
Interesting note: Everything disappeared into blue vision. “Blue Vision” is the Cheyenne idiomatic term for distances so far away that everything visible disappears into the horizon line. Isn’t that just beautiful?
And then, we were home. It was time to unpack our purchases and relive the trip through that. Come visit and see our wonderful beadwork and go visit that singular country, and tell all our friends hello.