I had a killer burger at the Gannet grill and along with a couple local Lander beers (Stout was aces) and chatted up some locals for a while.
In the evening we drove 15 miles north in Lilly's car into the wind river reservation to check out the Eastern Shoshone Indian Days, a pow wow taking place over the weekend. Cars jammed the parking lot indicating a big gathering. The festivities took place around a large grass circle with bench seating underneath a roof along the outer ring. Outside the ring vendors sold Navajo tacos, burgers, smoked turkey legs and other food as well as handcrafts and clothes.
Families walked around the grounds, some kids in dress waiting to take the field to dance.
Teenagers stood in packs wearing baggy jeans, basketball jerseys and dark shades, their long back hair pulled back tight in pony tails.
"Are you ready to pow wow" an announcer with a booming voice called. Just were I was standing 5 men seated around a large animal skin drum each holding long drumsticks with cloth heads began to sound a beat and chant in their native tongue. Turns were taken to lead the song. The chanter would press his finger to his ear, perhaps trying to hear his own voice over the drum. Every so often one man would come over the top of the driving rhtythym with heavy strikes on the drum. Old men with portable tape recorders held them up, their crooked thumbs simultaneously holding down the play and record buttons. Some held there cell phones toward the circle and I joined taking small sound recordings of music I had never heard before.
In the center of the field men, women and children danced in a circle. Some had elaborate feathered headresses and beaded costumes, some in simple street clothes. They would take all their weight lunging on one leg, step back and lunge on the other leg.
The announcer sounded again calling out a different nation and the drum and song passed from one circle to another until it had made it's way all te way around the ring.
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