Custer's Last Stand

Day 13: Sheridan, Wyoming
Distance traveled: 299.3 km
Cumulative distance: 4,958 km
Maximum speed: 135 kph
Moving average: 89 kph
Temperature range: 22.0 - 36.0 C

We rode up to Crow Agency not on the Interstate, to the area of Custer's Last Stand. It is really quite an amazing memorial and as soon as we arrived, we listened to a brief description of the battle that ensued June 25, 1876. The presentation was impressively balanced with no judgments being made for or against either side.

Lt. Col. Custer had been charged with the task of transplanting Lakota Sioux and Cheyenne to the Cheyenne Reservation in Dakota territory, though for some reason, the Indians did not want to be moved. In their minds, they were standing up for their way of life and if they ended up being put on a reservation, the life they knew would be lost, so there would be no reason to live. As such, they fought to protect their way of life or die trying.

The 7th Cavalry was there to enforce Custer's orders but were vastly outnumbered, as five tribes had banded together to join the fight. Estimates that the Indian encampments along the Little Big Horn River below was 6,000 to 8,000 people, of which 1,500 to 2,000 were warriors. In those days, the Native Americans had firearms from trading or capture, though they still used bows and arrows. The 7th Cavalry numbered about 600 however, Custer had split them into three battalions, ordering one to scout the bluffs to the south, the other to cross the river and attack the upper end of the encampment.

In all, 262 men from the army and civilians died on that day. It is not known how many Native Indians perished. In addition, many horses died, including dozens of Cavalry horses that were shot by Custer's men as they made their last stand on the hill; they were desperate for cover and the horses bodies were all they had.

Marble markers had been erected at the place where soldiers were believed to have fallen or killed, though it was recognized that it may be impractical to do this with any certainty. The last 28 troops on the hill fighting with Custer, after Custer had been killed, attempted to flee down the hill to a ravine and were killed there; markers were placed descending the hill but it cannot be determined with certainty whether they were killed as they ran down the hill or in the ravine. In addition, their remains have not been discovered.

The hill where Custer and his men made their last stand.

The trail to the basin, where towards the end of the battle on Last Stand Hill, a group of soldiers attempted to either flee to safety or attack.

Marble markers indicating where soldiers' remains were found and initially buried.

Where Custer's body was found.

Red granite markers indicating where known Indian warriors fell.

Lt. Sturgis, the son of General Sturgis.  There is a famous motorcycle town where a large rally is held named Sturgis.

From the ride between Sheridan and Crow Agency.

On the way back to Sheridan, we thought we would stop for something cool to drink, maybe a snack, at a tavern we spotted on the way up to Crow Agency. As we approached the place, it looked more closed than open; there were no cars, no lights, nothing to indicate there was anyone inside, and we sped right by. However, I thought we should at least pull on the door handle, so we turned around and Nan jumped off the bike. Sure enough, the place was open, and I was privy to one side of the conversation (Nan wearing her helmet with the communicator on) she had with the bartender.

Of course, no cars, no people; just the bartender. She was there all alone. The place was filled with various types of gaming machines, which the bartender, Veronica, explained to us was legal in Montana but illegal in Wyoming, so a big part of their business was for residents of Sheridan about 30 km away.

That's Veronica, preparing our snack.

We weren't drinking of course, but she was happy serving us soft drinks. Nan asked for ice tea, which turned out to be sun tea, but the last of it. Since we hadn't eaten, we thought we would order a snack and Veronica gave us a menu. We ordered Nacho Supreme, and I use that term lightly. Notwithstanding we didn't see any other employees, I just assumed there would be a kitchen with somebody in the back to make us something to eat. Wrong. Everything was behind the bar for the bartender to make anything a customer ordered to eat. This included a completely enclosed deep fryer in which she opened a small chute, dropped in her fries, and they came out the bottom about three minutes later.

For the nachos, she did everything on the bar right in front of us. She pulled out a package of tortilla chips and spread them out on a large Chinette plate a plastic container with beef chili, another plastic container with "cheese" sauce (what Americans call "American cheese", which isn't really cheese at all, though it does have an infinite shelf life), small pre-prepared containers of jalapeno peppers and sour cream, and opened up a can of black olives. I actually had to help her with this because she couldn't work the can opener. Everything was heated in the microwave.

Veronica was a former EMT but after ten years, felt she needed to get a away from it. She was chatty and asked lots of questions about Canada, the Canadian health system, the political system (three party vs two party) and had her own observations about the state of U.S. politics and Native Indian affairs (again, in the U.S. the term Indian is not considered disparaging; these were her words). I thought it was interesting that she had been to Mexico twice but never to Canada, even though she was only a couple of hours away from the border. She said she had friends that lived close to the border but had never been across; this is surprisingly common, I have found.

The Kirby Saloon, form outside.

When we got back to Sheridan, I was tasked with my husbandly duties, which was to tend to the laundry. Later, after getting all cleaned up, we went out for what I expect will be our last night out to a "nice" restaurant, since it is camping till Saturday. There is a chop house about three blocks away, so a pleasant walk, especially as the temperature had fallen to about 28. When we presented ourselves at the door, the manager asked us if we were celebrating anything and we both answered simultaneously, though, as always, Nan said "no" and I said "yes". My stock response is that we are celebrating our love for each other but in fact, our 29th wedding anniversary is on Sunday, so that is what I told her.  They made a big deal of it, comped one of our glasses of wine, and came by and took our picture and printed it at the restaurant for us to take as a souvenir.