I leave Lodge Grass on the Crow Reservation (pictured left) and head down into Wyoming.

I'm thinking as I drive that I should write "I have no idea where I'm going!" on the back of my van. That and "Patience" for all those people who are in a rush to get to the places that make them, um, not so lost.

It's cold and winter continues to grate on my positive nature. Winter isolates people, reducing serendipity and the random opportunities that make this project blossom. I have to go indoors to find people to talk to, to make connections, and to go indoors I have to have an idea of where I'm going, a destination, an address, something.

As I enter Wyoming I stop at the visitors center in search of.. well just in search. The lady behind the counter and I have a great little dialog and she gives me some pointers on the state and it's wonders, but I don't feel anything spectacular making itself apparent, so with a handful of Wyoming flyers, that I didn't have the heart to refuse, I push back onto the road.

Going nowhere.

I look down at my map... scanning the highways.. and there in the east is a marker "Devils Tower". Devils Tower was in my original grant application, as a destination on my route. Now that route has long since been thrown out and left to chance, but considering this recent reminder to return to lost pathways, I figure it's calling me.

When I was about ten, my brother who was fourteen, used to make Devils Tower out of his mashed potatoes. "You see this," he'd say "it's Devils Tower! It's an alien landing spot!" He's then fly his UFO (fork) into the top and make me blow milk out my nose. It all goes back to him and the film, Close Encounters of the Third Kind, which had just been released. Either way, those mashed potatoes left an indelible mark in my memory.

I turn off Hwy 25 and head east down Hwy 90... and I drive... and I drive.... and I drive. Wyoming feels like the moon, and the desolation has me doubting my decision. Veronica only goes so fast, and I'm now thinking that patience sign would be as much for me as for those behind me. And I drive. Three to four hours later I pass through Gillette and I'm kicking myself for ever coming this way. Then I see it, no not Devils Tower, although some would argue it is, a huge coal fired power plant, and then to my left a coal mine, and all around me trains loaded with dirty black coal.

The Crow Elder I had just visited with had told me that Southern Montana and Wyoming are loaded with coal, "They're gonna open more mines," he said, "and make my grandchildren rich." I responded that coal is definitely the future, holding back my fears of a dirty dark age ahead.

So this was something, but the light wasn't right so I decided to capture it on my way back south towards Casper. (Which is exactly what I did)

I head up Hwy 14 dodging wild turkeys and finally reach Devils Tower. It's getting late and the national parks don't allow dogs, so I decide to skip the 10$ entry fee and drive back the way I came to where the view was sweet. The light isn't right, it's overcast, and there ain't no people anywhere, dead calm. What the F%^< am I doing here? I call my brother and tell him where I am, "Cool!" he exclaims, and then I tell him how I feel. He tells me it's all beautiful and I just have to trust the process, he tells me to enjoy the silence and continue to work to create a beautiful reality, in short, he tells me it's going to be ok.

There is one place open, I think to myself, back up the road, a sign that reads, "For Heaven's Sake, Stop and Eat Before We Both Starve!" I figure an actual hot dinner for once sounds really good. The clouds begin to clear, as if in response to my attitude shift, and I head back up the road and capture a breathtaking sunset upon the stone column.

Afterwards the Cages family of the Devils Tower View Restaurant invite me in and feed me up nice, and I ask if they mind me sleeping in their parking lot, they insist mentioning a hot breakfast and coffee in the morning. I sleep well, feeling everything is going to be ok.

In the morning the Cages explain that Devils Tower was given it's name by some white Colonel. First Nations call the site, Bear Lodge, Tree Rock, Home of the Bear, and Grey Rock. In fact, they have no name for devil in their language, and like everything it all goes back to stories, stories we, never took the time to hear in the first place...

peace,
d