In Indian country.

As I progressed along the highway, I began seeing billboards for "Indian trading posts." Mocassins, blankets and ice cream seem to be the main selling points.

Reminiscent of the gas wars of my youth, the trading posts have blanket wars. They keep getting cheaper and cheaper as one goes east. I guess they hope to catch the hold-outs who didn't want a blanket at the first place but faced with the constant price-chopping, couldn't resist the bargain. They almost got me, but I really have no need for another blanket in the van.

Now that I think of it, I could use some mocassins for lazing around the camp site. Instead I brought my fur-lined Uggs. Perfect for 80 degree days in the desert. They go well with the 3 wool sweaters I have packed in my duffel. It just better get cold up north!

I stopped at one place for some groceries and was warmly greeted by the 2 ladies reading the paper behind the counter. Business was very slow as I picked out some canned peaches and Beanie-Weenies for my next campfire feast.

I also looked over the artifact section. There were some pretty nice locally made things and the usual wolf-howling-at-the-moon T-shirts. The howling wolf in the desert is the equivalent of the dolphin art that you see out on the coast. Hey, it sells!

As I paid for my things the lady asked me, "What tribe are you in?"
She said I looked very Indian. I was wearing a cap or she would have known I wasn't. Every Indian I saw, young or old, had a full head of hair.

Later, I had the urge for a real breakfast so I stopped in at a Dennys. It looked like all the staff and customers were Indian.
One thing I noticed was the respectful treatment of the elders (like myself) by the youngsters. Very interesting.

Oh yeah, I bought a flute when I got the groceries. The only trouble is when I try playing it, I start laughing. It must be a magic flute meant to keep me happy.

I also saw a guy at a truck stop wearing a beaded belt. Now I wish I would have picked one up. Very cool belt.