Trail of Tears Ride

This past weekend was the traditional motorcycle ride to Waterloo in honor of all the Native Americans that were herded away from their homes to reservations and such. I think. I do know that Indians were gathered up and moved to Oklahoma so as not to cause any trouble for the white men that were taking over their land. Once a year, everybody gets on a motorcycle and rides all day to the Waterloo destination in memory of all the suffering, dying, and hardships that were endured by the Indians. I think you are supposed to say Native Americans but I always liked the word Indian. Makes me think of coal black hair, feathers, loin clothes, teepees and beads. I went through an Indian phase where I wore clothes and decorated my house in Indian decor. I like Indian names. We even made up a few Indian names for our family...for instance...my sister who is skinny, she is called Walks On Sticks. My name is Blowing Wind...you can imagine why. A few others are Flying Buzzard, Rising Moon, Cheeks On Fire, etc.

My sister-in-law and her husband traveled from Centre Alabama this past Saturday to Waterloo. They left at 6:30 in the morning and rode along with hundreds of other motorcycle riders for this event. On their way back they stopped at the cabin late Saturday afternoon and spent the night with us.