Yabba dabba doo

Apologies to loyal fans for the week long delay between entries, but the wilds of Wyoming and South Dakota are not exactly awash with internet cafes. This is being typed in the airport lounge at Dallas, en route to Florida. We have had an excellent couple of weeks out of the big cities. After our last entry, we spent 2 nights in Idaho Springs, in what takes the worst accommodation of the trip award so far. The highlight of this town, though, was the people. On the first night, we ended up in the bar above a Mexican Restaurant, where they were having a karaoke night. After trying out her skills in a room full of friends in Kyoto, Maddi decided that she was ready for the large bar full of strangers. She had no idea that she had a secret passion for public performance. Suffice it to say, at the time we departed she had performed 6 times, and been invited repeatedly by some locals at the next table for karaoke in the next town the subsequent evening. She even performed (at his request) a duet with the guy running the karaoke machine. The next night we met a great bartender called Holly who said we should come back the next day before we left, as she had a present for us. As a result, Maddi is now the proud owner of a t-shirt which reads...'Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy'. Still not sure where it will be appropriate to wear it!

After that we headed north through Wyoming taking a detour to take some photos of Devil's Tower, the mountain featured in 'Close Encounters of the Third Kind'. We had the phone number of a distant connection of Adam's Nan, a guy called Greg, who lived in Custer, South Dakota, in the Black Hills. Without knowing us at all, he welcomed us into the campground he manages, and let us stay in his RV for 5 nights (thanks again Greg!). It was called "Flintstones" for a reason. Everything looked like buildings from the cartoon, including a Bedrock City Theme Park. As we had the good luck to be there during the biggest day of the year in Custer, Gold Discovery Day, we were recruited to help the campground with the festivities. As a result, we were outfitted in fur (Adam in shaggy grey, Maddi in enticing leopard skin) and represented our campground as runners in the hospital bed races on one of the streets in town, with a fully suited up Barney Rubble on the bed. Maddi was interviewed by the local TV station, and according to our sources actually appeared on the news that night. We don't think it will get syndicated by CNN so you at home might not see it. The next day, again all furred up, we were in the Bedrock City Train as part of the big street parade, throwing candy to the kiddies and waving like celebrities. It was such a laugh that we have told Greg we will be back again next year. We stopped in at the notorious local Gold Pan Saloon, to have a drink at the only bar where the floors are paved in ...foot thick sawdust.

We saw the local sights, including Mt Rushmore, and the Indian equivalent, Crazy Horse, of which only the head is finished after 50 years of work. The Black Hills area was great, and one of the definite highlights was driving in our PT Cruiser through a herd of about 200 wild buffalo. The up close pics may be a bit blurred as Maddi's hand was a little shaky (they are known to be dangerous, and we were only 1 metre away at times). We experienced all the meaty delights the west has to offer, dining on buffalo, beef and elk during our stay. We visited the town of Deadwood, where Wild Bill Hickock met an untimely death with a bullet to the back, but the old world facades hid a collection of poker machine ridden casinos. We were lucky enough to travel through the Badlands during a rainstorm. It is a large area of coloured peaks and valleys made of limestone, with no visible plant life, and the rain brings out the colours.

We also spent a couple of days on the Rosebud Indian Reservation. We did not realise that the accommodation we had booked was predominantly a hunting lodge. On the first night we met an ex police officer from Mississippi who had brought all 12!! of his guns with him for prairie dog hunting. Picture a cute little animal a bit like a meercat, and then imagine our dismay as he described the 'mist of blood' that you see after you shoot one from 400 yards. The Reservation was very hot and dry, and was covered in small collections of 3 or 4 houses that are inhabited by all the descendents of each particular Indian elder who settled there. They are described as the poorest counties in USA, and this is very apparent when you are there. We went through some very interesting small Indian run museums, and met a few Indian people who told us a little more about what life was like for them. It was a diverse mix of rich cultural heritage, poverty and the occasional casino.

Thanks for all the comments, emails and text messages, and we will upload more photos soon.