Dear Muthuh,

Ok!! - (Maaaan, that was SOME distraction!! No, that was ALOT of distractions - stretched out over three states since I last wrote you. Ok - so I like long, drawn out distractions. Didn't I tell you "Philly Don't Dilly"? ) - Anyway........... oh yea, the crash and the bracelet and all......ok.....so anyway, the Zuni's make this jewelry that obviously you can't buy at your everyday "biker" rally dimestore and here I suddenly was in Zuni Jewelryland Heaven!! This one bracelet immediately jumped out at me and when I looked up at Kelli with a grin, he knew right away which one and reached in the case and got it out for me. That bracelet was mine!! It belonged on my wrist!! It would always be with me!! It was absolutely, breathtakingly gorgeous!! (Got the idea?)

Kelli knew it was mine, too, and after we finished talking about the usual me-riding-motorcycle-cross-country-solo-thing and other "things" too (remember - I'm on sacred ground here), I sadly had to leave. But you see, without going into too much detail, I made friends with many of the Zuni's. I was welcomed to camp in their mountains and the next morning, they gave me a sweet "parting" breakfast. They told me we would be seeing one another again. They told me that the bracelet I chose was going to protect me and if something ever happens to it - I should send it back and they will fix it for me. I knew "something" was going to happen. I didn't know what or when but I knew - I just knew. I didn't question them and I didn't skip a beat in responding back thanking them in return for their hospitality and good memories.

Ok. Now, I've got my long awaited piece of Zuni Indian jewelry along with a surprise "lifetime" warranty and I'm heading up the road into Colorado laying down at night wherever I can find a nice hiding spot. Five or six days after leaving the Zuni's, I was coming down out of the mountains and into this old mining/cowboy town when I saw this old, weathered, wooden sign hanging off an old street post that was supporting an old-timey wooden walkway and roof in front of a row of old-timey wooden buildings. Guess what it said - SALOON. So I hitched my black stallion up to the post and, brother, - I was in (again!). Life was great!! I walked in there and (once again) it was just like in the movies.

The first thing I noticed was how quiet it suddenly got. The second thing I noticed was the place was full of Indians. And the third thing I noticed was the biggest one of them all was sitting up at the bar by hisself, was throwing back what I was to find out real soon were shots Tequilla and hadn't even noticed me yet. THAT'S the guy I wanted to pull up next to. So Philly Jack tromps over to the bar, pulls up a bar stool about 5' away, orders a Maker's Mark, takes a drink, looks over at him and ends up in a staring contest with Tonto. It took awhile but eventually I got a twinkle out of his eye and a hint of a grin trying to come out and before long, we were out on the dancefloor whirling around like the wind up in those mountains.

He looked to be about 50 years old. Built like a stone mountain. Kept his solid character in tact even though he was throwing that Tequilla down. I thought Indians weren't supposed to be able to handle their liquor (the Zuni's couldn't) much less Tequilla but this was "Chief Mountain Man" so I guess the rules changed here. I told him I had to leave for about an hour and hoped he would still be there when I got back. He said he would and when I got back (on the way in I had spotted a place to set my tent up at. Wanted to do that before I got too wasted. I hate when that happens.) he was still there.

To Be Continued.....

 

 
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