7.31.11 - From the Plains to the Mile High City

Daybreak in Winner, South Dakota feels like being on the deserted set of a slightly sinister western. We fuel up on diesel and coffee at the L'il Feller Convenience Store along with the hopped-up hunters and motorcycle ridin' couples on their way to Sturgis and off we go. 
At Mission, we stop at the only functioning restaurant in town--a Subway--to ask directions to Grandpa Roy Stone's place on the Rosebud Reservation near Parmalee. Five years ago, we were part of a team of folks from the Catalina Island Conservancy and Farmlab that helped build a ceremonial house; our time on the reservation, listening to many powerful stories of struggle and resilience, was one of the initial inspirations for the creation of the Filmmobile as a means to bring filmmaking tools and education to media marginalized communities. Seemingly untouched by the passing years, Grandpa Roy and his big white dogs come out to greet us; he tells us that, despite a couple of leaks, the house has been well used and much appreciated by the community throughout the seasons.
The road winds like a wagon trail through grassland dotted with pinto ponies and burned out trailers. The act of driving becomes a meditation. We go for miles and miles without passing another vehicle. A sign painted with the single word REMEMBER points off to the empty plain. The small towns contain orphanages, sanitariums and silos. The Goshen County Fair is advertising for a pig wrestler! Who says there aren't economic opportunities out here? It's rodeo time in Cheyenne, Wyoming and the teenage bronco busters swagger around the gas station mini-mart, handsome and invincible in their perfect cowboy hats. The Mile High City sparkles in the distance where my dear friend Betty is waiting up for us... Hang on, lady; we're almost there!