Tar on asphalt–still one of my favorite sources of abstract compositions even though Aaron Siskind beat me too the punch several decades ago.
What’s worse than coming across a bunch of rednecks with guns and a gallon bottle of Wild Turkey? How about a bunch of rednecks with guns and a nearly empty gallon bottle of Wild Turkey? That happened to us about 25 years ago when we were getting off the river after a canoe trip. Although the highly inebriated fellows were friendly enough, it was a long nervous wait for the shuttle driver to show up.
We were pleasantly surprised to come across a herd of bighorn sheep making their way up to the grasslands at the top of the badlands. (This was only a portion of the herd.) What was even more surprising (and also quite pleasant) was that there were only 15 or 20 tourists like ourselves who had stopped to see them. That’s quite a contrast to Yellowstone National Park where even a small group of animals can often attract a huge crowd of people and back up traffic for a mile or two.
A view from one of the overlooks in Badlands National Park; a park worthy of spending time in but we were just driving through on our way to Wisconsin.
This was the original storage shed we built while working on our mountain house. Over the years, as it’s rustic architecture has collected a steer skull, telephone pole insulators, whiskey barrel, and milk can on the porch, and antlers and bones on the roof, it has become our little kitschy statement about all things rustically western. I just happened to pull it up right after working with the last images I posted from Rawlins, Wyoming and it occurred to me our shed might not look too out of place in Rawlins. What’s that they say about living in glass houses?
Another scenic diversion amidst the preponderance of butt-ugly honesty that is Rawlins, Wyoming. (I’m not sure what the floating head, the giant man towering over the trees, and other object in the mural are all about.)
This spot further down the main drag in Rawlins looks like it could be where a lot of the free stuff from yesterday’s photo came from or went to.
I wasn’t sure if these items where what was left after the good stuff was taken or if this was the good stuff. In Rawlins, this may be as good as it gets.
A rather angry Rottweiler who objected to me walking down his alley reminded me of this line from Warren Zevon’s Rottweiler Blues “Don’t knock on my door if you don’t know my Rottweiler’s name.” I was glad he was chained up. Sometime later, in another alley, I was surprised by an unrestrained Rottweiler coming around the corner of a garage. After my adrenaline hit a peak, I realized it was about the friendliest Rottweiler I’ve ever come across. Whew! I much preferred being surprised by the two fawns in yesterday’s photo.