Legless George and The Birthday Bear

Legless George wasn’t always legless. In fact at one time he had two perfectly good legs, one on either side of his body, and had full command of how they worked. He did not always exercise the best decision-making protocol as to when, or when not to use them as we shall see momentarily. But first let me back up a little so you can understand George or Legless, as we came to call him, a little more fully.

George Clemency Baxter was an intern here at *The Institute during what we liked to call our Yellowstone days. He was a cheerful chap full of enthusiasm and a burning desire to observe and get close to our friends the grizzly bears who resided in the park. He was always the first in line to volunteer to help position the bears into the proper poses we needed for our photographs and had developed a close relationship with several of them including Crystal Hamstringer our lovely young female subject pictured above. Normally George and Crystal had a close working relationship, some would say too close, and that perhaps there were some unspoken feelings spoken by George at the wrong time, in the wrong place and that may have led up to what occurred next.

As near as we can put together from George’s mumbling then screaming then mumbling again, it was Crystal’s birthday and he may have made some off-color reference to her age or her disposition and then the rest gets a little fuzzy. According to George who was understandably upset and was having difficulty remembering the exact sequence of events what with all the growling, screaming, chewing and swallowing noises, not to mention the rending and tearing that was going on. And due to the fact that he was having all two of his legs tore off by a petulant grizzly it was hard to hear just what exactly he had said that caused this reaction in a normally well-mannered bear like Crystal. It ‘s been said that women or we should say females in general, don’t need much of an excuse to tear a fellows legs off even when they’re not having a birthday so it could have been anything.

 Of course by then the damage such as it was, was done. George was legless, Crystal was upset and the situation had deteriorated to its lowest point. We were all pretty bummed. It was then that another intern, I forget who, said “Hey! Lets call him Legless.” and the hilarity ensued. Fortunately we had some 4×4 gauze pads and ace bandages in the trunk of the Bokeh Maru our lead expedition vehicle, and we got George bandaged up enough to get him to the Ranger station even though we were laughing so hard we lost those little metal things that hold the ace bandages in place and had to tie a Bowline knot to keep them there. Their medico’s got him ready for transport to the legless ward in Boise fairly quickly.  Of course telling us that, the going to the legless ward part, got the whole legless thing going again and there were people staggering all over the place saying “Legless, legless” and snorting through their noses and just generally trying not to wet themselves and we all got tossed out of the Ranger station but it was all in good fun. Legless was off to get fixed up, see there we go again, we just can’t stop saying Legless. We went back to tell Crystal how George was doing and to recover our camera which George had left there.

It was then that we noticed how blurry the image was and how difficult it is to see George’s left leg but look close and you can see it dangling from her mouth, or it might have been the right one it’s really hard to tell which one Crystal was holding, and as Crystal was still in a snit we didn’t opt for any more shots right then. Legless was pretty P.O’d at us for not retrieving his legs as he had some misguided idea that they could be reattached but Crystal had made fairly quick work of that prospect.

We guess the moral of this story if there is one, is don’t make any but the blandest comments to a birthday bound female if you want to keep your legs. We recommend something like “Life is short. Smile while you still have teeth.” or  “I’m not making any age related jokes because I generally feel bad about how old you are.” or our personal favorite ” Your birthday reminds me of the old Chinese scholar, Yung No Mo.” All of these are preferable to whatever it was that Legless George said. We think.

* Note: For those of you unfamiliar with The Institute and what it does, please see the page labeled The Institute on the Menu Bar above. That should explain everything. You shouldn’t have one single question remaining regarding The Institute after reading it. None. For those of you favored few who already know about the Institute, Nevermind. Return to your daily activities. Thank you for your support.

Chaco Canyon Redux

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As alert readers you may have noticed a decided lack of fresh new posts with their scintillating images and incredibly succinct prose lately. That’s because The Director here at The Institute said “OK, I’m taking a break. We have not been on one road trip this year and I’m tired of looking at all these Monet’s and Rembrandt’s here in The Institute’s main art gallery. I’m tired of looking at all these first editions in the Presidential library. You can only look up so many words in the Gutenberg Dictionary before it gets to be boring. I want to go out and experience life again amongst things and places that are real. That have relevance in the real world. “So fire up the Bokeh Maru. Load the stores. Find room for the interns and we leave at first light.” The Bokeh Maru as many of you know, is our smaller research vessel and is used primarily for our shorter excursions.

That was it. About a week or so ago we followed the moonlight down the mountain having rigged the Bokeh Maru for silent running so as to not disturb the neighbors and turned her bow South by Southwest. We had two main agendas to complete. First and foremost we were headed to the Gathering of Nations in Albuquerque, New Mexico to attend the largest gathering of Native American tribes in the United States and Canada for a weekend of dancing, competitions, fellowship and fun, (much more on that in future posts) and secondly, we needed to stop and revisit *Chaco Canyon Historical Park, one of the singularly magical places you can visit.

* http://www.bigshotsnow.com/life-and-other-things-of-interest/

* http://www.bigshotsnow.com/la-ventana-de-oro/

It was a brisk morning with the sun just rising and burning off the light fog that covered highway 287. The Bokeh Maru was in rare form wanting to run into the wind as she hadn’t had a real outing since last fall. It was a trial just holding her back to maintain the speed limit. It didn’t help that the interns were frisky as well and had taken to bouncing up and down in the back of the rig just aft of the head causing the Bokeh Maru to wallow and list and nearly raising the front wheels off the pavement. After several admonishments and stern warnings to cease that childish behavior we stopped, tied several of the ring leaders to the back bumper and set off down the road. The anguished cries and sweating faces pressed up against the rear window soon had the rest quieted down and our progress became smooth again.

Our first stop was Chaco. Chaco is a place every human being should visit once in their lives. Not all of you at once of course, but make sure you do it. Check with your neighbors so you don’t all cram in there at the same time. It ought to be in the top ten of your bucket list. Above is an image from Pueblo Bonito, one of the main building sites in the park, there are many more of course, but Pueblo Bonito is the largest building constructed by the ancient ones and feels like it has the most magic.

You can enter into the ruins and wander and sometimes crawl through the small openings from one room into another. Touching the cool walls deep in the recesses of the palace, calling it a palace is no exaggeration by the way, feeling the reflections of past lives pass by you, listening to the quiet that is so deep and profound until the wind finds its way through the passages, rubbing against the cool stone walls to finally brush up against your face, is an experience that cannot be duplicated. TV and movies just don’t cut it, you need to be there. Occasionally you will hear a raven call as it flies high up against the cliff face that stands behind the building it’s plaintive squawking filtering down upon you. This is a special, special place and the feeling you have is not unlike entering a cathedral, the same feeling of exhilaration and profound peace is there.

It was at Chaco that several of our interns wandered off into the desert in search of whatever was in their minds at the time. This happens. We start off with a dozen or so interns and as the trip progresses there is a certain attrition and we come back with fewer if any when the trip is over. That’s why we always take more with us than we need. One word of caution to the potential visitor to the park. You must want, really want, to get there as the last 16 miles of dirt roads will test your resolve. Anything over ten miles an hour will have a disastrous effect on your vehicle. The Bokeh Maru made it without mishap but it let its displeasure be known to us by showing everyone all the new squeaks and rattles and fallen off bits that it incurred during the trip there.

After Chaco we returned to roads that had blacktop and concrete on them and things got easy again. We arrived at the Gathering of Nations without further mishap and although we had been told it was big, we were unprepared for the enormity that greeted us. It was held in the West Pies arena in Albuquerque and the word was thousands upon thousands of visitors attended it. This was probably an understatement as it felt like a lot more. There were over 2800 registered dancers and competitors alone registered for the show. It is almost beyond words to describe the cacophony of color and sound and whirling bodies and drums and singers that assaulted your senses in a good way when you walked into the arena. This was a huge event and we’ll be posting images from it for some time trying to give you some feeling for how it felt to be there.

This is where we lost the rest of our interns. There were only seven or eight left by that point anyway. We should have known better. It was just too overwhelming an event to thrust these young minds into. Occasionally we would see one of our interns out in the middle of the arena floor dancing with abandonment, eyes rolled up into their heads, oblivious to the modern world, then they would be lost in the swirling crowds of dancers on the floor and that would be our last glimpse of them. We were sorry to lose them of course but it did improve the Bokeh Maru’s gas mileage on the trip home.

Soon, as our processing department catches up on the several thousand images taken while we were there we will begin posting them for you viewing pleasure. As always it feels good to make it back to The Institute unscathed, or perhaps just a little scathed. Everything connected to The Institute’s grounds survived our absence and we’re beginning to regroup and prepare for the next excursion. The summer is filled with exciting events to attend and we’ve scheduled many of them. Stayed tuned for details of our travels and adventures. Maybe we’ll see you out there.

A Tree Grows In Arches

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It’s Spring and a young man’s fancy lightly turns to …. the Southwest. Well an old man’s thoughts turn to the Southwest, anyway. There’s more than one kind of love you know. It’s still cold at night and nippy during the day here in the mountains of Northern Colorado but you can tell we’ve turned a corner. Sure we’re still going to get some snow and it’ll be cold for a short while but nothing like the soul-numbing cold of deep winter.

Right now the conditions are almost perfect for visiting the Southwest. It’s warm enough during the day that you don’t need a jacket but not the skin block sneering, turn you bright scarlet heat you find mid-summer. The desert is waking up. Trees are budding out, some of the earlier wildflowers are poking their little noses out of the ground. Animals are more visible as they go about getting nests ready for having their young. The rangers are nice because they haven’t seen all that many people yet and the oppressive clouds of tourists are still a month or so away so they’re not as quick to shoot you in the leg if you happen to stray of the trail a wee bit.

And the light. The light of early Spring in the afternoon when the sun is just considering going behind the mountains is as gorgeous as any place you will find in the world. If you pay attention and don’t forget to click the shutter you can sometimes stumble upon a scene like this. After you get the picture it’s ok to just stand there and let this experience fill your soul until it is not only brimming over but saturated to the point where you will remember it forever. It is time to fire up the Bokeh Maru, load the camera gear, and point it south, no roadmaps needed. Just follow the color. When you think it can’t get any better than this you’re there. Enjoy.

Announcement !

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As you could tell by reading yesterday’s post I’m on my way to Yellowstone National Park. http://www.bigshotsnow.com/the-words-out/  to take pictures and boldly go where everybody else has gone before. Since my last visit I have increased the number of research vehicles here at the Institute by one, adding the Mothership, a 30′ fully articulated vessel similar to the Black ships that plied the Sea of Japan in the early 1700’s, but with color TV and a microwave, and a place to store cookies, she has now become the stately old grand dame of our fleet. Able to tow our shuttle craft, we are completely self-contained and able to stay out on our journey’s for weeks at a time.

I hope to be able to post more frequently on this trip due to the increased technology included in the Mothership with the addition of improvements such as a table to place my webernet connection device, electricity to power all of the incredible technology installed in the IT room, and a electric hot plate to make my tea in the morning. Without my tea nothing happens, nothing, so this is a very necessary improvement over the coal fires used in the Bokeh Maru.  As we will be touring the wilds of Montana, Wyoming and Idaho comfort and convenience are paramount. Our previous ship the Bokeh Maru has assumed other duties, although still remaining one of our principal vehicles in the exploration of the known universe, her role is to be more of a scout ship, used primarily for shorter forays. She will enter dry-dock for a D&C, or Dusting and Cleaning as it’s known in the trade, her reward for years of faithful service, then it will be back to work, hauling interns to projects, running down to the mailbox for the mail, and ferrying dignitaries up the hill to The Institute.

Now, having said I would post more frequently you must understand that this is still the 21st century and there are limitations at hand. There are unseen forces out there at work with nothing to do but bollix up our best laid plans and all that, so if I don’t post for a few days in a row do not freak. I’ll be bock. And if like in most or our explorations, where everything goes completely to hell in a hand basket, and I don’t post at all I’ll be back in a couple of weeks with stories to tell, adventures to relate, and clothes to wash. So wish us Bon voyage, steady winds at our backs, and remember, I’ll be thinking about you.

Before The Storm

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After nearly a week of beautiful weather the weather gods found out we were in southern Colorado and decided we had had enough sunshine, warm breezes and generally fair weather so this morning instead of the usual sunrise we had the first of many of our snowstorms.

Durango was our host last night as today was the day we were to visit Silverton and Ouray. Both of these places are up at the nosebleed elevations so if we were having rain down here you could bet that it was near blizzard conditions up there. Even as I pondered whether I would attempt it the rain began to turn to sleet then full-fledged snow.

Since going north into the higher country then east through more high country to get home was not only fool-hardy but ill advised I turned our tail to the east and ran before the storm like a sissy, I mean a well seasoned traveler, retracing our path hoping to get to Wolf Creek pass before the storm could catch up to us.

Luckily we made it but just barely, as you can see by the picture above. Wolf Creek pass is over 10,800′ high and is one of the more treacherous passes to cross in the winter, but is the only way back home unless you want to go to Kansas and turn left, so I only stopped at the overlook long enough to grab this image with my trusty iPad. I needed to get over the summit before the storm really arrived because I had neglected to pack the snow chains for the Bokeh Maru and you do not want to drive Wolf Creek in the snow without your chains on. The bones of those vehicles that have tried in the past are still visible, slowly rusting away at the bottom of the cliff.

Tomorrow I should be back broadcasting live from the Directors tower at The Institute bringing you new images and perhaps a story or two, so stay tuned. There’s film, I mean pixels at eleven.

A Tree Grows In Wyoming

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It was early in the morning Saturday when I got the call. I had just sat down to do some serious blog writing when the sound of my ringtone “In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida” blared through the office thoroughly erasing the story from my mind I had intended to write . As you know this is a song by Iron Butterfly from their 1968 album “Songs My Mother Sang To Me” and I chose it because it is seventeen minutes long which gives me plenty of time to decide if I want to answer it or not.

“This had better be good, dogbreath.” I said into the phone. My caller, a spotter I used periodically to notify me if she found anything interesting was too excited to catch my tone and went on breathlessly. “Boss, I found it! I found the tree that grows in Wyoming.”

“Bull Dimples!” I yelled back at her. “You called me at 4:15 in the morning to feed me crap like this?” She never missed a beat and went on to tell me that as she drove along one of the back roads near the Colorado border there it was. The tree.

For years there have been rumors of a tree actually growing in Wyoming. Thousands have sought it out. Whole fortunes have been lost looking for it. Reputations have been ruined and lives wrecked searching for the tree that grows in Wyoming. And now my spotter says she found it. I was skeptical. It wasn’t until she sent me a grainy out of focus image from her BlackBerry that I began to think may be she had found it. If so I needed to be up there and get proper proof before we announced it to the world. The risk of ridicule was too great to mishandle this. I got what details she could give me, told her we’d talk about compensation if the story proved out and immediately began plans to leave.

For the record there are trees in Wyoming but they’re mainly restricted to the western part of the state and found up on the sides of mountains where they’re difficult to get at unless you’re like, a mountain goat or something. What we’re talking about here are trees on the plains of Wyoming. There aren’t any. And as Wyoming is 740% plains that’s a lot of no trees. The natives living here will tell you that isn’t so but tall bushes are not trees and don’t count. So finding that tree is a really big deal. Just think of the tourist dollars that would add to the state’s coffers. The person that brings this discovery to the world will be the next face on Mt. Rushmore even if that is in South Dakota.

I needed to plan my strategy carefully. I decided the best plan would be to ease up on it, kind of like you do at a single’s bar where there is real danger in spooking it off if your approach is too straight forward. I took the southern route leaving the Institute and heading west on Hwy 14 up the Poudre canyon, following the Cache La Poudre river, passing through the small towns of Spencer heights, Gould, and Walden, where I picked Hwy 40 towards Steamboat Springs and on to Craig, Colorado.

I wanted to immediately drive up Hwy 13 into Wyoming. I felt the excitement building, I was closing in on my quarry and hopefully I would soon approach it. However the Bokeh Maru was somewhat fatigued from the altitude change and needed to rest. Craig was a good place for that. In the morning we would take Hwy 70 in Wyoming and begin our stalk. I hoped beyond hope that no one had tipped the tree off and this would not become another hopeless quest. It was a difficult night for me with our quarry so close. The Bokeh Maru slept like a baby. It was like she wasn’t even aware of the importance of our mission.

The next day, after filling the Bokeh Maru’s tanks, we left and picked up Wyoming Hwy 70 which led us to Hwy 130 where we could almost smell that tree. All we had to do was climb Battle pass, snake down the switchbacks until we overlooked Centennial, Wyoming and then if our spotters directions were correct we’d be on that tree before it could shake its little branches and scamper back to its hiding place. That was not going to happen today. Not on my watch.

As you drop down the long sloping highway above Centennial you can see forever. They call it the Laramie plains and for every mile you can think of, there are long rolling hills covered with golden grass waving in the wind. I was thankful for the wind today, as it seldom blows in Wyoming, to cover the sound of the Bokeh Maru as we crept up over the last hill. Being Labor day and a holiday there were practically no cars on the road. Everyone must have been at labor because we alone on the highway as I cut the engine and coasted up to where the tree had last been reported and there it was. The tree at last. That lone green sentinel in a sea of golden grass. I was stunned to my core. I had found it at last.

I immediately took its picture, in fact I took two in case I lost one and then ran up to it and drove a stake through one of its roots pinning it to the ground. This was done in a humane way using recycled stakes and an OSHA approved hammer. This tree was not going to disappear before I could get my image published and the proper officials notified and begin the process of raking in the dough. The only worry that I had as I triumphantly returned to The Institute was that the wind didn’t blow the stake out of the ground and release the tree. There was little chance of that however, because as I mentioned before, the wind rarely blows in Wyoming and then it’s usually just a gentle little zephyr to cool off a hot day.

I couldn’t wait, I had to show you my loyal readers, the picture of the only tree in Wyoming before you saw it on CNN. My meeting with all the most important officials of the State of Wyoming is set for this Thursday and I’ve told them to bring their checkbooks. Now if I can just get an up to date weather report to make sure it’s going to be a calm sunny day I’ll be able  to sleep tonight. I can’t wait to be rich.

Announcement !

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This post has been moved to OpenChutes.com. All future postings of Powwows, Indian Relay Races, Rodeos and Rendezvous will be posted there from now on exclusively. So if you’re looking for new images and posts for all those events attended this year, plus all the old posts posted on BigShotsNow.com check out OpenChutes.com. See you there!

We’ve had Dozens upon dozens of people writing in asking, well one anyway, but she wrote in big block letters so it seemed like more, where the blog was. What the hell were  we doing? Why haven’t we written, why haven’t we called. It seems that there are some of you out there that actually read the blog and notice when we’re not there. That is daunting and a little scary. Sometimes when I’m sitting up here in the Directors chair, high in the tower overlooking the Institute grounds, not aloof and distant but pampered a little, writing and sending it out into the ozone I forget that there may be actual people out there that read this stuff. Don’t you guys have to go to work? Anyway, Thank You for spending your valuable time with me.

Last Friday as I was working on future posts a small announcement made its way across my computer screen notifying us that The Crow Nation was having the largest gathering of teepees or lodges in the world. The announcement stated that there were to be somewhere between 1000 and 1500 hundred teepees ( that is not a typo) set up along the Little Bighorn river for an Indian Fair and Rodeo at Crow Agency, Montana. The Indians I spoke to thought there were over 1000 but not the 1500 lodges they anticipated being there. Still when was the last time you’ve seen 1000 teepees set up together in one place?

So using the same strategy we always use here at The Institute in planning our expeditions, where we spend an incredible amount of time in researching our destination, gathering the necessary information about logistics, conditions, possibilities, supplies, equipment, staff needed, risks, potentialities, and expected results, I grabbed a few skivvies and my camera gear and threw them in the Bokeh Maru. Twenty minutes after seeing the notice the 2014 Expedition to the Crow Nation was underway.

No extra staff, just me, the Bokeh Maru and the Crow Nation. Eight hours later I was up there, standing on a ridge above the camp staring at the thousand plus teepees stretching out along the Little Bighorn river. I must admit I had a momentary inkling of the feeling that the members of the 7th must have had June 25, 1876. That is a lot of Indians in one place. Fortunately you should not have any apprehension at all. You cannot understand what wonderful, gracious, friendly people the Crow tribe are until you go there and meet them. It was an incredibly interesting and rewarding weekend. I will relate more to you over the next few days and show some of the images from this amazing event.

It is becoming a pattern that up in that part of the country the services that we take for granted down here, and I’m talking internet access mostly, are not as well established as we have in the more crowded part of the country. Consequently finding access is more difficult and I’m always quick to say the hell with it and take in the experience instead, and posting later. Look as you may it’s hard to find an electrical outlet on a horse, and believe me I’ve tried. Then I realized that my new Crow friends were just having a little joke at my expense telling me they had their horses outfitted with AC receptacles, the better to stay connected. The Crow seem to love to laugh. Fortunately I was able to provide them with endless amusement.

So that’s where we’ve been and I intend on going back there next year and maybe setting up a remote site of The Institute, fully staffed, with satellite feed and regular coverage by our trained reporters, having our chef cook regular food, not that corn dogs and frybread aren’t good but they leave a little bit to be desired as a regular diet, and also dancing classes so we might participate more fully. It should be a blast. In fact I might even ask for volunteers to go along and assist us. Anyone thinking about this might look at the postings of The Maiden Voyage of the Bokeh Maru we published not long ago, to get a feel for what the trip might actually be like. Give it some thought anyway.