What State Are We In? Dipping in and out of Wyoming and Montana

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There comes a point during long travel experiences when you don’t know what day it is, and in our case, we would soon add not knowing what state we were in as we dipped in and out of southern Montana and northern Wyoming.

After a false start on our way to Harvest Host location Big Lost Meadery in Gillette, Wyoming, when our kitchen slideout wouldn’t lock or go out (totally user error, though it did turn out our hydraulic fluid was seriously low, and we learned a lot about slides and jacks from the mobile RV tech), which necessitated another night’s stay in Sturgis, we were on our way again, and made the Meadery our lunch stop to thank them for being so kind about our late cancellation.

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We had a second Harvest Host stay booked at Our Wyoming Life, and it was only after we arrived and started talking to the other Harvest Host members staying there that we discovered the farm is YouTube famous.

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The host’s several parking spots for RVs were full, which was a huge bonus when everyone gathered near the small barn near the parking area and we all shared stories of our travels. Just what we want from our Harvest Host stays!

Along with selling meat and other foods, host Mike does a farm tour each morning. All of the guests attended, and it was another fun bonding experience, made all the more hilarious by relentless turkeys who gobbled warnings at us, in unison.

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We met and fed calves…

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…met and fed alpacas (not you, worried alpaca in the back)…

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…saw what Mike called the first RV accessory, a fabulous old “portable kitchen” that would have been used to make meals during long car trips back when Hector was a pup…

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…and, of course, the animals’ love affair with Simon continued. He’s the animal whisperer.

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Our stay was a real boon, especially when Mike described the ranch’s community philosophy. We were thrilled to hear how much he and his family do for those in need, and how dedicated they are to educating people about where their food comes from and how it gets to them. Great stuff!

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We moved on toward Garryowen, Montana after the farm tour, had a little snafu that saw us returning to Gillette for two days, and on our arrival back in town we made a snap decision to backtrack in Nippy to see Devils Tower once we’d settled in at a last-minute campground. It turned out to be a great decision, not only for the tower itself, but also for the mental boost it gave us, and the chance for some ice cream.

Devils Tower was probably famous before it co-starred in Close Encounters of the Third Kind, but neither of us knew anything about it before the movie came out. It is sacred to the Plains Native Americans, whose origin stories for the tower tend to revolve around an enormous bear who left scratch marks in the high rock in his attempts to get at those seeking shelter on the rock’s flat top. Rather than calling it Devils Tower, they use the names “Bear Lodge” or “Bear’s Tipi.”

From a distance, the tower looks a bit wimpy.

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Up close, it’s not wimpy at all.

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The yellow-green color that seems to run down the rock is caused by crustos lichen, and as the sun hits it late in the day it practically glows.

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After some diagnostic work and an oil change for Fati the next day, we were once again on our way to Garryowen, and this time we made it to 7^th Ranch RV Camp just down the highway from Little Bighorn Battlefield National Monument.

Just before reaching the campground, we learned a valuable lesson in how to cope with the unexpected after we turned right instead of left when we got off the highway, and ended up at a dead end next to a pig farm in a rig that can’t be backed up while towing a car. How lucky we are to have such interesting experiences!

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Simon had hoped to take a guided battlefield tour, but Fati had thrown a wrench in those plans, and we had one less day in the area than we’d expected. Instead, we drove the battlefield on our own and stopped at each area that had a description plaque detailing the terrible June 25 and 26, 1876 conflict that left 263 of Lieutenant Colonel George Custer’s soldiers dead, along with that ill-fated man himself.

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Several thousand Lakota, Chayenne, and Arapaho fiercely defended their homeland and way of life, and estimates state fewer than 40 were killed. While the hillsides are strewn with white markers for the U.S. soldiers, there are only a small handful of red granite markers showing where the land’s rightful residents fell.

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If not for the headstones all across the landscape, this would be a place of great beauty, and during our visit it was alive with birdsong. We left feeling remarkably sober for the senselessness of it, and the terrible waste of human life. It’s hard not to wonder what could have happened had we truly come in peace.