I-70. 600 Miles. Straight west. Couple stops off to piss. Couple stops to throw the ball around with the little man. Couple stops to gas up. A long day.

392. “A Kansas City morning.”
393. “Matt’s building.”
394. “Making Kansas City proud: Matthew Stiffler.”
395. “Horse shoers.”
396. “500.”
397. “See ya around, Kansas City.”

Special thanks go out to Matt for the accommodations downtown. Much appreciated.

Something that always catches our eye:

398. “A rest stop icon we’ve always liked.”

Due to space constraints, some jockeying for cockpit position took place and here is the result:

399. “DDC Cockpit Travel Formation.”

Just over the Colorado border, I pulled off to gas up and met Ed Eagleboy. I rolled in, hit their shitter for a quick elimination and struck up some coversation with Ed while fuleing up. “Tell me about the arrow!,” he said. I love to talk. You all know this. I spun a yarn about roadside America, and the optimism of a bygone era, and the “dumbing down” of the American landscape, and of course, took a couple potshots at that national nightmare George Bush in the process too. I mean, I don’t always try to weave his shameful nightmare into my diatribes. It just rears it’s ugly head and I go wild. Anyhoo, Ed was calm, and took it all in and heard me out.

“Although our political views are diametrically opposed, I think we can find some common ground with this arrow.” said Ed with a thoughtful smile.

400. “Ed.”

He told me about his plans for the surrounding area. Some 14 acres he owned with his wife. His father was one of 12 codetalkers in World War II, speaking Lakota, which was an unbreakable code by the enemy. Eddie Eagle Boy was his name, and passed away some years back. He wa awarded medals posthumously. Ed wanted to make a center to honor the local Native Americans, and his father.

A Congressional Expression of Recognition.

“I screwed up a numnber times and had to start over. So I know how to organize, and how to talk. I think I can get this shit going.” said Ed. I sure do hope so. I offered up my graphic services free of charge to help the projects and talk turned to giving his gas station an identity tuneup. I’d love to help, so, I hope we stay in touch so I can help out.

I pulled away thinking about America. About our history. About the land. About our people. About atrocity. About exploitation. About native lagnuages that are slowy, sadly, dying off. I hope Ed creates the center, because their are many lessons to be learned from our Native American brothers, their wisdom, beauty, pride and way of life from not that long ago.

401. “Ed’s wife.”

A coping mechanism for the long day shooting West:

402. “The little man, tuckered out after throwing the ball around at a rest stop.”