Crow Lodge Morning

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!

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Last August I had the pleasure of attending the largest gathering of tipi’s in North America, a yearly event sponsored by the Crow Nation, with over a thousand lodges set up along the Little Bighorn River just a long rifle shot from the Little Bighorn Battleground. I woke early one morning wanting to see the Crow camp in the early morning light. Slightly after dawn I set out to roam quietly through the camp, the sun was just beginning to rise sending its streaming light into every corner of the encampment.

It was still quiet, the people just beginning to stir. Horses tied to posts near the tipis whickered softly to those in nearby makeshift corrals. The ravens, those earliest of risers called back and forth, asking each other raven questions in their own raspy tongue. Far off in the distance people were splashing in the river, their shouts of delight echoing among the trees. Morning is a special time. A time for quiet observing, a time for listening to all the sounds that get buried in the days activities but are so prominent in the early hours. It’s normally chilly but not cold, a jacket wasn’t needed but still cold enough to send a shiver through you as you entered a shaded spot. The sun was rapidly rising and it soon took the chill off.

There was a smell of wood smoke here and there as the people slowly went about their morning routines. A good smell, one that made your mouth water even though the cooking hadn’t started in earnest yet. I was fortunate and met some people who, although members of the tribe, lived in a suburb of Denver. We talked, exchanging thoughts on things like what it was to be a Native American and yet live in an urban environment and how much it meant to them to be able to reconnect with their heritage. I must have looked hungry as they invited me to breakfast, introducing me to their extended family. At first I didn’t even notice how at home I felt with them, it was just “pass the sausage please” and “damn that tastes good” and the realization came later as I began to process the experience.

After breakfast and yet more talk I left to continue my wanderings along the winding convoluted roads that sprang up as the different lodges were set up. At first it looked like a totally haphazard system until you looked closer and saw that the placement of the lodges was designed around family groups being together and not for the ease of driving a vehicle through them. I saw that you had to get your head in a different place to make sense of the surroundings but once you did it made sense, just not the kind we may be used to.

When I look at the image above it brings back that morning with a vivid clarity that deeply satisfies me and it makes me want to be there again. So next August that’s where I’ll be if they’ll have me. I want to hear and see and listen to that incredible experience again. And maybe even take some more pictures.

Note: If you’re interested in seeing more about this event check out the original series of posts about it beginning with http://www.bigshotsnow.com/2014/08/21/  and ending with  http://www.bigshotsnow.com/2014/08/27/.