I'm finally off restriction.
I get to tell you about the actual wild week Naomi had while all those phony Inchies (Phinchies?) were being posted by moi, Gwen, her creative alter ego.
I guess I didn't believe she'd actually do it...go tent camping in the wilderness, out there with the bears.
But, she did go, and she took over 700 photos to prove it.
Yikes.
I won't bore you with all of them (even I can't stay awake through that), but you are hereby forewarned that reading my next few posts will be something like sitting in a 1950's, dark, stuffy living room looking at your neighbor's vacation slides until you want to run screaming from the room.
Never done that?
Hey, I can provide the same squirmy feelings, but you can actually run screaming from the room, and I'll never know.
How's that for accommodating?
The wild week started with a two day road trip.
First stop: Historic Boot Hill in Dodge City, Kansas.
My Beeg Seester is working to keep her reputation...she's the one who had us visit the Liberace Museum in Las Vegas (speaking of running screaming from the room).
Boot Hill sounds historically interesting on paper, but in reality it's a tourist trap.
It did provide some laughs for us, though (because we didn't have to fork over any dough for the experience).
I took this photo of Bro in the old jail there.
The jail was old, but I'm guessing the graffiti is less historic.
Then there was this:
No, we didn't try them.
There is enough bitterness in the world without sampling any new brands.
For me, the best of Boot Hill was finding, in their gift shop, the perfect gift for my Chicken-Raisin' Seester.
Yep.
"All weather lip junk."
"Apply regularly outdoors."
"Contains No Poop!"
She'll be seeing it for the first time right here on this blog.
And I just know she's going to rush right over to pick it up.
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We traveled on through Kansas (which made Oklahoma seem positively mountainous) and we passed this interesting fence along someone's property line.
It went on for about a mile.
We don't know what it's all about.
But the doorway to the Navy captured my attention.
This one's for you, Young Friend.
Let me know how it is on the other side.
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We spent the night at the Mid-Town Motel, in the big town of La Junta, Colorado.
And I think I'll send the owners this photo as a postcard.
They were very nice.
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The reason for staying in La Junta?
Bro was interested in visiting nearby Bent's Old Fort.
We got there before the first tour-time the next morning, so we had the guide all to ourselves.
He was in costume, and he stayed in character while answering all of our questions.
His sidekick arrived about a half hour after we did and I caught this picture of him preparing to hitch up the wagon.
I call it "Bent at Old Bent's Fort".
I'm diggin' the curled up toes on those shoes.
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They keep a horse and some chickens at the fort.
And they keep this beautiful bird...
...which they say someone traded for some dry goods.
Of course, I'm rather partial to this feathered friend, considering my last name and all.
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I was taking photographs of this door (I might have a thing for doors)...
...when Beeg Seester called out about some other wildlife she'd happened upon.
I call this photograph "Really Bent at Old Bent's Fort".
I'm still rather amazed that she picked it up.
And, I confess, I thought to myself...
"I'm about to camp in the wilderness for a week with an outlaw and a toad handler."
"Good thing Prince Charming will be with me."