Month: June 2025

Long Way From No Hope

Ten days biking from Calgary to Anchorage. One days rest. Nine days biking to Hope. This is no way to treat an old man.

We thrashed it down the Alcan Highway. We thrashed it down the Stewart – Cassiar Highway. We thrashed it along the Yellowhead Highway. Roads that we had already travelled. They weren’t easier the second time.

The bike performed well though it could do with a wash. I kind of look the same – splattered dead flies and mud. Susan is fine and clean – she hides behind me and laughs when she hears flies the size of small birds bounce off my helmet.

Susan suffers in another way. The gravel and sand roads are her nemesis. I think she’s getting better although I’ve now had to ask her to stop breathing. Yes I know it’s cruel but it sounds like a cross between a heavy breathing phonecall and an express train over my intercom helmet!

In the evening she’s exhausted – nervous exhaustion. I’m exhausted – symbiotic exhaustion. I go to sleep dreaming of a whooshing in my ears. It’s not easy being me!

When she’s not whooshing in my ears, I keep Susan’s spirits up with junk food. Just look at her happy wee face. Susan has some kind of chicken salad sandwich whilst I’ve got the only Subway sandwich a biker should have – meatball marinara!

Here she is again at a petrol stop. I think she disinfected her hand after touching my handlebar – she thinks my gloves smell of dead Moose! I don’t disagree. It’s just a pity my hands smell the same.

So we reached Hope, less than 100 miles from Vancouver.

Chainsaw aficionados recognised the wooden sculpture in the last post as Sheriff Will Teasley (actor Brian Dennehy) from the movie First Blood, starring Sylvestor Stallone as Rambo.

Here’s a wooden version of the main man himself. The real wooden version can be seen on your TV.

So First Blood was essentially about Rambo walking into a small town and coming into conflict with a small town sheriff. It’s a classic movie of our times. Oh really? Yup, a classic!

The movie was filmed in the quaint mountain town of Hope and Susan and I have been here before – 11 years and 1 month ago.

Since that time we have referred to the town as No Hope. Sometimes Susan calls it Tantrum Town. Yes, there’s a story and that’s why we have returned.

First, let’s have a couple of photos of me.

Just to clarify, that’s me incorporated into a wooden carving – it’s not all wooden! Well maybe just the heid! I will give you that!

Here’s me 11 years ago! Amazing isn’t it? The wings look older but I’m just the same. You never know I could possibly be Marty McFly.

11 years ago we were starting our tandem journey from Victoria Island to Newfoundland. We set off with all the confidence in the world for our marvellous adventure.

Coming out of Vancouver and into the mountains we struggled. I cannot emphasise enough how we struggled.

After a few days we made it to Hope and Susan needed a day of rest. We had our day of rest and wandered the town taking photos for our marvellous adventure.

The following morning we left Hope with hope. We were rested, we were ready for our marvellous adventure.

Ten minutes out of town we reached this corner.

The photo doesn’t show it but it’s a bit of a slope. Just a bit. The newer lighter concrete wall wasn’t there at the time and, right at that spot, we faltered, and stopped. We were knackered. We couldn’t go on. And it was bloody cold and raining!

One of us had a tantrum and boy did they shout and moan. They even blamed the rain on the other person. The other person remained calm despite being presented with reasoned logic why it was their fault it was raining.

We were never going to bloody cross Canada on our marvellous adventure if we couldn’t even make it out of No Hope!

Now this was THE pivotal moment on our journey to adventure land and all our subsequent travels. We genuinely thought we would have to give up and if that happened then the rest would never have followed. Everything was about to fall like a train of dominoes.

So what is the one thing that separated our success from failure? Attitude! Our attitude was wrong.

We had no shared experience of such an undertaking and no understanding of the commitment. Our confidence, built on a flimsy platform of hope and a marvellous adventure, had disappeared.

We didn’t know how to cope in No Hope.

We decided to gave it another try. We pushed on, soaked and freezing and made it to the end of the day. We didn’t get to our intended destination – nowhere near it. But we got up the following day and did the same. The next day ……. you get the picture.

That day was a lesson that’s taken us through all our adventures – ‘just keep moving!’. Don’t contemplate the enormity of the task or journey ahead or how bad it is or how bad it could get – just keep moving!

Of course, we’re now on a bike with an engine. The physicality is not the same as the tandem but, as any motorcyclist will tell you, it’s the most satisfying but exhausting way to travel.

Panama literally feels like it was years ago. It’s difficult to explain. We’ve crammed in hundreds of places and destinations, gone through countless experiences. Neither of us can comprehend that Panama was only 3 months ago. We’ve lived a hundred ‘holidays’ since Panama.

It’s not for everyone but please never take my motorcycle away.

Now, without getting too sentimental, I’m going to get sentimental. Because of this story I’ve unburdened onto you, Susan and I decided this was the official end of this particular adventure.

It all really started here. So let’s finish this journey here.

10,998 miles.

We have another three weeks left before we fly home so we’re heading for Whistler then the Oregon coast.

So for now I’m going to leave you with a beer photo of me. Yup you’re getting bang for your buck photos of me today. You damn lucky person!

And in true Rambo style I ordered a pint of ‘First Blood’ at the excellent mountain brewery.

Looking like Rambo. Well perhaps not. At least the beer was excellent – nicest pint of red beer I’ve had.

Of course, at the end of another grand adventure, I’ve got to acknowledge that I was part of a team.

I couldn’t have got through this without you.

Until the next time.

Skol.

Progress By Movie Character

Okay, okay I made the last ‘progress by beer’ far too easy. That’s Susan’s fault – I wanted something more cryptic but she obviously didn’t have confidence in your intellectual capabilities. I’m sorry it had to be said. Don’t be annoyed at me. I had confidence in you.

So this time I’ve got a photo of a character from a famous movie shot in our location.

Wait, wait, wait! Just wait!

It’s not going to be that easy. This character has been carved out of a tree trunk with a chainsaw.

This town is famous for its chainsaw art.

So who is this guy?

Yup, of course it’s him and yes that’s the movie and that’s where we are!

Well done. I always have confidence in you!

Long Way Up

Our route to Alaska was always going to be a long and winding road.

We had a break – the weather was settled and so we decided to go through to Anchorage with no rest days.

2,250 miles from Calgary in 10 days motorcycling. Doesn’t seem so challenging? Well, it’s 10 days over demanding roads, with a motorcycle carrying two old people. It was going to be tough at my age – I’m no spring chicken!

We left Jasper on the road we had previously cycled into Jasper. Yeah, yeah more memories!

We stopped on the road and tried to recreate a photo I had taken 11 years ago. That’s Mount Robson, the most prominent mountain of the North American Rockies.

We pushed on through Prince George and up the Stewart-Cassiar highway. The sun shone and we made good progress.

We kept up to date on the situation with our original planned route – the Alcan Highway. It closed for five days and whilst now open it continues to be affected by smoke. It’s not an option for a motorcycle.

On the third day we reached accommodation which was a little bit of luxury for Susan. I did say she was high maintenance!

The following day we crossed the border into the Yukon. Absolutely bloody marvellous wilderness! Love the Yukon.

The Yukon is, of course, famous for its gold rush, also known as the Klondike Gold Rush. In 1896, the idea of striking it rich led to over 100,000 people abandoning their homes and families to embark on a life threatening journey across treacherous, icy valleys and harrowing rocky terrain.

Less than half who started the trek actually arrived. Many gave up, many died. Those that made it found that reports of available gold were greatly exaggerated. The Klondike Gold Rush made some men wealthy beyond their dreams but most ended with nothing but broken dreams.

On our first night in the Yukon, we stayed in another chalet at Nugget City. More compact and bijou than luxury. I should say, Susan’s obviously not high maintenance all the time!

Met a lovely couple in the restaurant. Both retired. He was in the RCMP and she was a nurse. How often does that happen? All over the world policemen marry nurses.

Where was my nurse? What happened to her? All I got was a nursemaid!

The scenery in the Yukon was bleak and outstanding.

On route, we’ve seen brown bears, black bears and even a blonde grizzly foraging by the roadside. Once we had to stop whilst a brown grizzly slowly walked down the road centre line like he owned the place. Then we came across a very rare Canadian Lynx crossing the road with a menacing nonchalance. Wonderful.

We stayed in another chalet before crossing the border into Alaska.

And I drank another beer.

Honestly, I’m going to suffer going back to Scotland where the beer quality and choice is second division compared to what I’ve grown accustomed to since landing in Panama.

The scenery and beer are outstanding, the roads are not.

Most of the roads are paved but there’s long sections of gravel and mud. Susan hates gravel roads. Hated them in South America. Hated them in Central America. Hates them in North America.

Whenever we hit a gravel section the tension on the bike is palpable. I can’t keep the bike from slipping on occasion and this adds to the drama.

The permafrost destroys roads and, even where they’re paved, they can be treacherous. Potholes, dips, drops, undulations, subsidence, gravel pits, cracks, sand and mud are a nightmare for the motorcycle. Warning signs of danger for motorcycles are common along the road.

Sometimes, for a few miles, the road is wonderful but, suddenly, it can become very different and we’re braking hard, weaving and bouncing. When the bike comes down with a loud bang we ride along wondering if anything is broken.

Throughout the day, the road is an ever evolving challenge. You can’t take your eyes off the surface for a second. It’s pretty exhausting.

I’ve said it before and I will say it again. Susan is unbelievably brave on the back. How she copes with the bike hard braking, bouncing and slipping all over the road is unbelievable. Nobody else I know could do it!

Okay I know, I accept – nobody else would bloody want to do it!

So here’s a photo of Susan at the Alaska border. Fresh from a 20 mile mud and gravel section. Still smiling!

We were back in the USA!

Here’s me doing my crucifix impersonation.

Great, easy border crossing and the roads in Alaska are a significant improvement. Thanks America!

The Americans look after their roads (including roadside forest management) better than the Canadians. And Canadians if you’re going to retort you have a huge country and can’t afford to maintain the roads properly then give a chunk of your country to the USA. I’m sure Donald will take it 🙂

Helped by the settled, sunny, warm weather, biking through Alaska is simply magnificent.

As we approached Anchorage, the last 30 miles were four lane freeway. Oh how we flew into Anchorage.

Susan wasn’t happy we were flying faster than anyone else but, after 10 biking days on treacherous roads, I wasn’t going to take it easy today.

We finished with a flourish and then went for beer, of course!

Tomorrow is for the old man resting. The next day? Well it’s back down the same road of course.

We’re not hanging about in Anchorage. It’s a bit of a dump, if I’m being honest, but we knew that before we arrived.

We thought about taking a few days on the bike and explore the peninsula but I’m fearful the weather changes. This is North America and when a bad weather system comes in it can be devastating. I can’t contemplate riding some of these roads in very bad weather.

Also the forests are on very high alert for fire all along the Alaskan road and into the Yukon. If a forest fire arises we’re effectively stuck. There’s one way in and one way out for us.

So need to make progress whilst the weather is fair and the forests are calm.

It’s not a time for two exhausted old people to sit and nap in Anchorage.

It’s time to move. Again!

The Icefields Parkway

We headed north from Calgary towards Jasper along the Icefields Parkway, rated one of the top journeys in the world.

It probably isn’t but it’s certainly better than most. How do I know that? Well me and the old girl cycled it in 2014 in the opposite direction.

Truth be told, the ‘engine house’ (stoker) of the tandem was Susan.

Here’s the ‘engine house’ in 2014 contemplating why she brought a passenger on a tandem.

And here’s us passing the same spot, 11 years later.

This time around I’ve got an ‘engine’ that needs less maintenance!

Ooooooh that’s nasty ‘big helmet heid’. Remember the problems and heartache the motorbike has given you!

Ooooooooh I hear you and you’re absolutely right! And yes, yes I agree – it’s actually the other way around!

So ‘high maintenance’ Clif and ‘low maintenance engine room’ Susan tackled the Icefields Parkway once again and we couldn’t bloody believe it! What couldn’t we believe? We couldn’t believe we had actually cycled these rollercoaster roads through the mountains. Madness!

This time, we had great weather for our journey and the scenery was outstanding.

We even stayed at the same motel and I had a beer with a view.

So you think we’ve got it difficult, at times, on the motorbike? Well have a look at days gone by -there’s no comparison when it comes to hardship.

Here’s the ‘engine house’ in 2014.

That’s the Athabasca Glacier in the background and, thankfully, the snow plough has just been through to clear the road.

Here’s me in front of the same glacier today. Yes, I’m smiling, nae pedaling today!

Let’s have another photo of today’s ‘engine room’ that made the Icefields Parkway journey so pleasant this time.

We loved both trips and wouldn’t change either one. Times of our lives.

So we travelled the 232km Icefields Parkway from Banff to Jasper and thoroughly enjoyed the memories.

In Jasper we had another ‘deid heids’ hotel. Yes, it’s a shame and Susan says she doesn’t like it but they’re deid and there’s nothing I can do but enjoy them. Well you know what I mean!

From Jasper our carefully laid out plan was to head north to Fort Nelson and then west towards Alaska. Sometimes plans have to deal with issues and, unsurprisingly, a big issue arose – forest wildfires! Massive wildfires.

The blue dot is us. The plan is to travel north.

Now there’s a problem when a man has a plan and a plan that he very much likes. He’s proud of his plan. His plan is the best way to accomplish the task. He’s committed to his plan.

Unfortunately, this plan was through two major areas of wildfire. The roads were open though one did have a 100km contra flow and perhaps several hours of waiting on a motorcycle in smoke and embers. No fun.

Even knowing this it took a lot of discussion and hand wringing to finally abandon the plan.

The alternative route north (the only alternative) was the Stewart-Cassiar Highway. It’s more remote with less services, slower and prone to closure.

So the man with no plan had to draft a new plan mapping routes, distances, accomodations, gas stations and food. Then factor in prevailing weather conditions, potential contingencies and so on. Thereby a new 5 stage plan was born.

Leaving Jasper and heading into the Canadian wilderness with a dodgy fuel gauge was, however, a slight concern. But we had a contingency. I love a contingency.

You see we have a petrol bag – a flexible canvas bag with liner, that we’ve carried throughout the Americas. It’s a few years old but it’s been our constant companion, ready to help us, ready to be the saviour. One day I thought I would be telling you the story of the petrol bag that saved our bacon.

So, when we topped the bike up with petrol, before leaving Jasper, I brought the petrol bag into action for the first time, unstrapping it from the pannier where it’s never moved since 2023.

As I’m getting the petrol nozzle ready, Susan turns over the bag to the underside and sees some instructions. Damn I think, I know what’s coming next!

‘Have you read the instructions?’

She knew the answer. She didn’t have to ask that question!

Of course I hadn’t!

But it was too late. I was at the petrol pump, the pump was whirring and I had the nozzle in my hand. Not only that, the pressure was on me as there was a queue of cars waiting, drivers watching.

I should mention, a couple of the petrol stations went up in flames last year during the Jasper forest fires. So there’s always a long queue at this station.

Back to the story.

There I was, petrol pump nozzle in hand, ready to engage and people staring. I mean have you ever seen a person fill a bag with petrol? Neither had they! I was a disaster waiting to happen and they could somehow sense it.

This was no time to read instructions. This was a time for action.

I engaged.

Susan held the bag in a horizontal manner and I pumped. The bag slowly filled with petrol and, when full, I put the cap on. It was actually a bit trickier and messier than that but let’s not get into details.

I got the job done. Who needs instructions?

I’m now wallowing in a self congratulatory manner after a task well done. Susan still thinks I’m an idiot for not reading the instructions but I don’t care. I’m successful.

Then Susan has to go and rain on my parade! Honestly, sometimes I feel she hates to see me happy!

‘It’s leaking, it’s leaking’!

‘Look’ she says pointing to the steady dribble falling onto the garage forecourt.

My self congratulatory world came crashing down. I stared at the dribbling dribble willing it to stop. It didn’t.

I knew I had to take action and get the dribbling bag of fuel away from the petrol pumps. Conveniently, Susan was the one actually holding the dribbling bag.

‘Take it over there’ I said, pointing to the back of the forecourt where there were some bushes.

Susan calmly walked over to the back of the forecourt leaving a trail of petrol behind her.

Meanwhile, I moved the motorcycle away from the petrol pump and gave myself some thinking time. Yes, I’m aware my teammate, my partner, my pillion, is standing with a dribbling bag of petrol but she’s calm. Well as calm as any person can be with a dribbling bag of petrol. The kind of rock you need in a dribbling crisis.

As soon as everyone has stopped staring at us and moved on with what they were doing, I moved in and took control. Susan, of course, gave advice but I sorted it. Well done me.

Oh don’t ask what happened to the bag of petrol! Move on please! Stop being so curious!

Look there were a number of options and I chose one. It wasn’t perfect and if you’re a sensible person it’s, most likely, not the course of action you would have taken.

Now let’s get on, please.

Susan confirmed there were no security cameras and we made our escape. Sorry, I mean, we made a quick departure towards Prince George.

The old plan was dead, long live the new plan.

Yogi & Boo Boo Visit Jellystone

Cody was our gateway to Jellystone National Park.

We were up early and had a wonderful hour ride to the gates of the park in time for it’s 8am opening. Let’s start with a video.

I chose this video because Susan got off the bike reasonably nimbly. I’ve got to be honest and say sometimes she balances like a flamingo on one bike peg trying to get her other leg over whilst I’m hanging on like mighty mouse trying to keep us upright. Some days are graceful. Some days are not. All days are amusing for us both.

So what’s Jellystone all about?

Well I’ve always wanted to visit. Always.

You see Yellowstone National Park sits over a supervolcano and magma lies just below the surface. Past volcanic eruptions have been global disasters and, though it stirs occasionally, Yellowstone currently sleeps.

Thermal activity throughout the park is, nevertheless, extensive. Yellowstone is home to more than 500 geysers; that’s more than half of the total active geysers on Earth! Geysers come in all sorts of shapes and levels of activity, from towering eruptions that occur sporadically to small fountains of steaming hot water that erupt almost continuously.

In amongst all this volcanic activity live the bison or, more commonly called, the North American buffalo.

Then there’s the geysers, mudpots and hot springs with their multicolored layers caused by different species of thermophile (heat-loving) bacteria.

Absolutely amazing. And there’s the wastelands created by the acidic hot water.

And there’s the Grand Prismatic Spring with its striking colours.

And the bubbling mudpots.

And the crystal clear hot springs.

And the magnificent caldera lake.

And of course, there’s the famous geyser ‘Old Faithful’ that gets its name because of it’s 50 metre high eruptions of boiling water every 60 to 90 minutes.

Yeah I know, photo of Old Faithful doesn’t look impressive. To be honest, it wasn’t that impressive in real life either. Still it was good to see

And how did we get around the park over two days? By iron horse of course!

Talking about iron horses, just look at this bar diner sitting on the banks of the Yellowstone River.

What a fitting place to end our two days in Yellowstone National Park. The beer was wonderful and the food was great.

So what did I have to eat at the ‘Iron Horse’? Well I like seeing Buffalo on the American plains so, of course, I had to try one. What a great BBQ buffalo burger.

Before my buffalo dinner I must admit to having a small pre dinner beer at our high class rustic lodge. Unfortunately, there’s a limited choice of beer from the gas station but at least it helps cut down my calories.

No we didn’t see Yogi and Boo Boo but the scenery, sights and experience of this park were exceptional. I will repeat myself – this place is exceptional.

Let’s now move on and get this blog right up to date.

We left Yellowstone and made good progress north. Weather and roads were great and we were soon crossing the border from USA to Canada. Great border crossing and we were through in a couple of minutes. Thanks USA and Canada border people.

Here we are entering Alberta.

How about a retro shot.

That’s from last time when we cycled through Alberta. As you can see I’ve matured since then and I don’t wear tights anymore.

Then it was straight to Calgary and the bike shop to ask if they could arrange a service and new tyres. They understood our circumstances and did it there and then whilst we waited.

The mechanic even replaced quite a few bolts that had been rattled loose and lost. He said the bike was in good shape though his eyes widened when I revealed I had a fuel filter bag floating around in my tank and the petrol gauge wasn’t working.

So we’ve been in Calgary in a lovely Airbnb apartment for the last few days chilling in the extra time we had because the bike was serviced so promptly.

It’s nice to be here in Calgary again after having visited on our cycle ride across Canada. It’s just like I remember which is surprising since it’s so unmemorable.

Now, we move on towards Anchorage and it feels like the journey is nearing its end. It’s a sad thought. No genuinely it’s a sad thought and so we’ve been thinking about plans to extend this trip to cheer us up.

That said, there’s still another 6 weeks to go.

That said, we’ve still got another 4,500 miles to go.

And did I mention our planned road to Anchorage, the main Alcan Highway, is currently closed due to multiple forest wildfires?

Yup, there still appears to be some life in this old journey!

The Wild West Meets Scotland

From Buffalo to Cody we detoured over the Chief Joseph Scenic Byway in Wyoming. Motorcycle heaven. Outstanding scenery. Outstanding roads. Outstanding weather.

We stopped for a couple of days in Cody (established and named by William F. ‘Buffalo Bill’ Cody) and checked into a nice motel to provide us with a ‘theme park’ experience.

Unfortunately, on the way to the pub, Susan and I got into a bit of an argument – she found alternative transportation for our trip and wouldn’t get out.

I had to resort to threats. Sorry guys! – sometimes even us metrosexual guys have to resort to unmetrosexual like conduct.

I proposed towing her in a traditional carraige – the local historic museum had a few spare that were available for reasonable cost.

Yes, I know the photo doesn’t really look like much of a historic town. Well it was and you know me – I always deliver!

Let’s start with with something impressive to demonstrate I know what I’m talking about.

This is Curley’s (Bull Half White) cabin where he lived with his wife ‘Takes A Shield’. What great names Native Americans had. So descriptive! I mean you certainly know not to leave your shield lying around when Curly’s wife is about!

Susan and I realise we now have adopted Indian names – ‘Clif Bigheid’ and ‘Susan Bigdug’. You see how us travellers easily metamorphosise ourselves into the local culture.

By the time Curly was 12 he had killed a buffalo and received his own horse. By the time most Scots lads are 12, they’ve completed the latest video game!

Ah, perhaps I should explain who Curley was?

Well, he was a Crow scout for Custer and the 7th Cavalry at the Battle of Greasy Grass. He was on the outside of the charging circle of Sioux and Cheyenne warriors and managed to escape. Well, that’s Curly’s story!

Okay, I’m listening, I hear you – you hadn’t heard of Curly and you’re quietly singing to yourself ‘that don’t impress me much’.

Well look at this!

‘Oh-oh you think you’re something special’? you ask.

Well, yes I do because look at this …..

Only the bloody table where the ‘Hole in the Wall’ gang played cards!

Yes, yes I know, I’m playing a blinder.

And whilst I’m on top – how about an original wanted poster for Kid Curry!

In terms of delivering on cowboy history I think I’ve knocked it out the park again!

If you don’t know about these infamous characters then you were probably not raised on a diet of cowboy movies and television series. I feel sorry for you.

I could show you more. I could tell you more, but I don’t have time and you don’t have the patience. I’ve got to move on and ramble on about another Wild West character.

Let’s talk about Bill.

We visited the Buffalo Bill Centre of the West, a museum affiliated to the Smithsonian Institution. Proper culture stuff. Yes, yes I’m not all about beer and beer and ……. well beer!

Here’s Bill. What a dandy!

Oh, I know it’s a photo of a photo. Best I can deliver cause he’s deid.

Here’s his coat.

Yeah, yeah it’s only a blinking coat and you’re still reeling in awe having seen the card table so let’s move on with the story.

Buffalo Bill, born in 1846, was a buffalo hunter, US Army scout and pony express rider. His marksmanship, courage, endurance and knowledge of the land made him a legend in his own time.

It should also be recognised, he was chief scout for the U.S. Cavalry throughout much of the government’s attempt to wipe out indigenous resistance to settlement of land east of the Mississippi. So he wasn’t a saint.

His exploits made it into newspapers and dime novels of the day and transformed him into a Western folk hero. He even formed a partnership with an author and they produced a stage show, dramatising the west.

For many years, Cody performed during the winter and scouted for the army in the summer. The lines began to blur between the two when Cody famously wore his theatrical clothes into battle.

In 1883, Cody organised his famous Wild West Show, a spectacular outdoor entertainment with a cast of hundreds, featuring cowboys, Native Americans, along with recreations of buffalo hunting, the robbery of the Deadwood stage and the battle of Greasy Grass.

Buffalo Bill’s relationship with Native Amercans changed and his Wild West show offered them an alternative way of life that allowed them to earn money. A cynic may say he exploited their destitution brought on by his summer job.

Lakota Sioux warriors became a centerpiece of the show and, for a time, even included Sitting Bull and other warriors who had fought at the battle of Greasy Grass.

The show played through the USA and toured Europe, including a performance in front of Queen Victoria.

In 1893 alone, three million people attended the show and, by the end of the 19th century, Buffalo Bill was one of the most recognised people in the world.

Surely he wasn’t recognised in Scotland? Oh, he surely was!

Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show first visited Glasgow in 1891-92. It ran for 3 months, staged in a 7000 seated theatre in the east end.

The most famous of the Native Americans in the show, at that time, was Kicking Bear who was the last Lakota Sioux warrior to surrender to the US Government.

Kicking Bear was a familiar figure in the streets of Dennistoun and one of his most well known photos was taken in a studio in Bellgrove Street.

So the Wild West Show in the Wild West of Scotland? What could possibly go wrong?

Well, George Crager, who toured with the show as a Lakota Sioux interpreter, sold a famous ‘Ghost Shirt’ to Kelvingrove Museum. Yup, if you’re going to reset stolen goods where else in the world would you go?

Ghost shirts are sacred to the Lakota people and thought to be imbued with spiritual powers. On a winter morning, on the banks of Wounded Knee Creek, a slain Lakota Warrior was stripped of the one item that was supposed to protect him from death: his Ghost Dance Shirt.

It became part of a collection assembled by George Crager and this looted artefact found its way into a Glasgow museum.

Fast forward to 1998 and, after a six year campaign, Kelvingrove Museum agreed to return this Ghost Shirt, stained with the warrior’s bloody, to his descendents.p

That’s not all that happened in Wild West Glasgow.

Crager also hit the headlines when he was assaulted by Lakota Sioux warrior ‘Charging Thunder’.

Jeez, even the wee neds fae Glasgow would think twice about upsetting a guy with that name!

Charging Thunder obviously lived up to his name and hit Crager over the head with a block of wood. And what did the Glasgow polis do? They did what they’re best at – they ‘gied him the jail’ and, subsequently, Charging Thunder was sent to Barlinnie (prison) for 30 days.

Nowadays, ‘Charging Thunder’ would claim diplomatic immunity and get out of jail or, alternatively, he would have a 5000 flag waving march in Sauchiehall Street proclaiming injustice and his innocence.

On the second visit to Scotland in 1904, the Wild West Show came back bigger and better than ever. It performed at numerous venues in Scotland to an estimated 500,000 people at a time when Scotland’s population was around 4 million.

They travelled in their own trains, extending to three quarters of a mile long and in Edinburgh they played for a week at an 18,000 amphitheatre in Gorgie.

Before the show, it was written that the participants collectively represented men who had served in almost every major conflict waged throughout the world since 1861.

So that’s Bill Cody and Scotland.

I could tell you more but, at your age, most of you will have dozed off by now. And you know what they say – always leave them wanting more.

Or as I always say – leave them with another famous coat!

Worn by Annie Oakley, greatest sharpshooter of the West. Now there’s a story!