A sentinel's report from Dubois, Wyoming

Before a packed crowd and under both sunny and rainy skies, the Wyoming Cowboys upset the Nebraska Cornhuskers in 6-man football June 29 at the Dubois High School football field. I hope it's a metaphor for our life here at 7,000 feet.
 

DATELINE 102 HOUGH STREET, DUBOIS, WYOMING --- Back in the day when I was a crime reporter at the Los Angeles Times, I had a weekly column called The Sentinel. Stopping short of plastering my mug on city buses and park benches, the paper vigourously and regularly announced my upcoming dispatches with quarter-page ads that shoved my face into the reader's and proclaimed I was scouring the underbelly of society, discovering cold case links and prophesizing pending gang warefare, or wagging tails with high-level law dogs by touting their newest superpowers or praising 'balanced' budgets and non-nepotistic promotions. Armed and clearing a 'house' inside a 300-degree simulator with the CHP was cool, as was learning close combat Krav Maga from a burly, attractive sheriff's sergeant. I can live without ever being tased again or watching two tons of pot get torched.

Today, I am a witness of another kind. Behold the pack races June 15-16 in Dubois. Teams of riders are timed as they erect a tent, saddle their rides, load a pack horse (pick and shovel must go last), break down the tent, ride into the hills several miles, return, unload, re-erect the tent. A young duo won the men's division handily, possibly assisted by the fact that at least one other team had been recruited to compete only hours earlier at the closing of a local saloon. All-in-all, a surprisingly interesting sport to watch. Don was a timer both days. I've suggested enthusiasm could be boosted if I, ala Tour de France style, tracked the riders in the hills with a video camera to catch a few of the spills and excitment. Otherwise, Don and I need to consider entering to add a comedic element.

June 27 saw me sitting at a tiny table inside the local antique/book store, chatting with author Mike Kuzara, who's "Black Eagle Down" was just published. A spry and sportingly Western dressed Mr. Kuzara was a long-time columnist at the Sheridan Press before the changing media landscape and differing ideas about what constitutes journalism propelled him elsewhere. We have things in common. In "Black,' his fictional elk hunter protaganist must protect POTUS in the wilderness.

Two days later - in the midst of our on-going remodel of a portion of Ding's Custom Cycle land-based shop - I took in a 6-man football game. My former colleague and celebrated Americana photographer Morgan Tyree would be proud. He's attended and shot these events for years. It's a shorter field and the extra kick is worth two, among other rules. It was great to see skin in June.

In closing, day-to-day life has Don working tirelessly on the warehouse-style loft inside the shop. It's about an 800-square foot space that will soon have a bedroom, living room, kitchen and an almost-done new bathroom across the hall (when I finish, ugh, painting it). There will be tail pipes used as towel bars, heated cement looking-floors, maybe an extra gun cabinet doubling as the dry larder for bulk rice and beans and whatever else we can reconstitute or get for free. Don made moose marinara for spaghetti the other night and it was delicious. I'm reading "Protect and Defend" by Vince Flynn, whose fictional terrorists are fewer and have far easier names to remember than Don's choice of the mid-1800s battle for Afghanistan called "Return of a King." Occasional cribbage, lots of DVD movies and ball time with Thumper round out the life now. It's warm in the 80s and fishing and kayaking beckon soon.

Happy Fourth All and RIP Prescott Hot Shots.
Hol, Ding and Thumper