(Cont.'d from)
The Red Hat Honeys and the Rapid Free Redicals, both Rapid City chapters put together a fine little luncheon for me and Seno at Minerva's.  At least 3 of them had been in Chicago for the convention and I showed up in their photo album!  Wow!  Peg Seljeskog was the moving force here and I get the feeling she's a moving force wherever she goes!  Peg told me that tourists have actually asked, "Where do you put it (Mount Rushmore) in the winter time?"  Another Red Hatter told me that she's met several tourists who thought Mount Rushmore was made of cardboard and was taken down every night.  On my dumbest day I haven't been this dumb.  They blame it on the Disney-ification of the American public.  We think everything is fake now. 

A handsome reporter from the local TV came and charmed the ladies while attempting to look like this was work.  Local newspaper reporter also joined us.  She's the first one to "get it" that I'm financing this whole project and what a hit it is to NOT work for 2.5 months. 

I left my purple chiffon dress on for the drive southward.  I was on my way to Hot Springs but the vortex of the Motion Unlimited Museum was overpowering.  Peggy Napoli gave me a personal tour of the place.  This is probably my third or fourth visit but they have many new and wonderful wheels.  I got to see what my '40 Ford coupe would look like if it were painted purple.  And the old motorhome that's almost 90 years old, still runs.  Peggy and her husband own all this iron along with a room full of motorcycles, one fashioned like a hearse (my personal favorite).  She says, "This is what compulsion looks like." 

Raced off down Highway 79 southward with a quick stop at the Texaco station midway to Hot Springs.  My purple chiffon was wafting all over the cockpit like fabric in a washing machine.  This caught the eye of Sal, who watched while I lobed a banana peel into the garbage can--a perfect 2-pointer.  Sal remodels kitchens in missle sites.  Now you don't meet people like this every day.  He certainly didn't ask "why" I was on this trip; he rides motorcycles and he'd be out on the road if those pesky kitchens didn't need attention.  He says, "Hi, Bruce" to his daughter Christina.  I didn't ask why he calls his daughter Bruce, remember I told you about the guy in Vermont who named his daughter Porsche.

My left rear fender, altho duct taped, clanged and clanged.  At higher speeds it actually stops clanging--perhaps the wind lifts it or something.  But at slower speeds the welds bang together something like a silverware hitting a Ball jar.  As I turned into the Black Hills Wild Horse Sanctuary, the ponies started stampeding and I hoped it wasn't the clanging that set them off. 

Dayton Hyde is too much to describe but that's why I took the wide detour to Hot Springs.  Award-winning author, rancher, conservationist, activist and all around eccentric, Dayton is buds with folks like Kim Novak and countesses and supreme court justices.  While looking at a holding pen of wild horses, Dayton was inspired to drop everything and DO something.  Now he sits on 16,000 acres and runs a Wild Horse refuge.  There's 400+ horses that get to run wild instead of spending their days standing in feed lots waiting to be sold as dog food.  You can "buy" a horse and receive a certificate and a photo of the horse.  I'll find the web site for you later, but or now, I'm sure if you typed in Black Hills Wild Horse Santuary, you'd get to their web site.

Imagine that you're watching 20/20 some evening and you see a story that really touches your heart.  Five years go by and you can't forget that story.  So you locate the hero of the story and call him and go see him.  Your life is never the same because you uproot yourself from Alabama and join forces with him to save the wild horses.  This is Susan Watt's story.  Is that AMAZING or WHAT?????

Probably the luckiest thing to happen to Dayton in recent years is SUSAN.  Let's just canonize her now and get it over with.  Not only is she infinitely patient with an infinitely impatient Dayton who is trying to recover from hip replacement surgery, she spent most of last night out in the barn with an ailing colt.  It was life and death and this morning she said, "He's still with us."  Meaning the vet was due back and more care was needed and I don't know if the tiny horse is going to make it or not. 

I answered the phone and took a reservation from a family in Illinois planning on taking the bus tour of the Sanctuary.  I also made Dayton's breakfast.  Felt so useful. 

All this drama is not uncommon when you visit Dayton.  There is always back breaking labor to be done, hoses tangled in farm equipment, an animal needing help, water worries, wood to be chopped.  And the whole place is run by volunteers.  Compassion EXISTS, folks!  Just when you thought it didn't.  It is alive and well and living just south of Hot Springs, South Dakota.  And you can join them anytime.

This morning I found Gale, the welder weight champion of Hot Springs.  He immediately took Seno into his shop and welded a plate on top of the broken strut.  His outfit is G&H Specialty Welding and guess what HE does for fun and relaxation?  He fights fires.  Well, everybody has to have a hobby, I guess. 

I have enjoyed a gorgeous afternoon of driving into Wyoming.  There have been times when I could not see another car, either in front or behind me and the view stretched for miles.  The sky is intensely blue (no pollution) and the little clouds are intensely white and friendly.  They are there for show, not snow (or rain).  I photographed prairie dogs sitting up like squirrels and an antelope gracefully leaped across the road and vanished--a performance for my eyes only. 

The wind still blasts away in my ears but the clanging of Seno's fender has been thankfully silenced.  Whew.  Hope this little car holds together.  We've been shaken as if we were in the snow globe of a hyper two year old.