Remember my tipi idea from a few days ago?
I was feeling pretty down, no one thought my idea could work, at least those that knew construction materials. Yes, a fiberglass tipi would fit the dream of tipis in Ten Sleep… But I am just on to “playing” with extended life and/or solid tipi for myself here at home.
I go to my local Ace Hardware store, which is THE place to go… The first kid told me he didn’t think it was possible… After discussion, he retreived another gentleman, who also said no. The third guy listened to my idea and plea for anything that might work.
“Sure, you can do that!”
(Keep going til you find someone to support your idea! Is my motto…)
He proceeded to tell me what I should be googling to get the proper ratios… It’s called Monster Mud and it’s used in set decorations. The basic formula is joint compound and latex paint. Other things can be added to this depending on the look and strength desired.
He thought Portland cement and a concrete treatment might give it some strength and flexibility… But encouraged me to go Google it, believing that there was a recipe that had some “rubberized” effects.
I haven’t found the “rubberized” version, but I’m still looking. There was one where they added latex caulk…
In the meantime, the little tipi is up and cuter than snot!
I’ve more investigating to do, I need to cut those smoke flap poles, but there’s hope that this little tipi may have more permanence in the future!
Small fire erupted this afternoon, most likely from a lightning strike yesterday or the day before. My guys were right on it… and were joined by neighbors, Ten Sleep Fire, BLM, Worland Fire, and the Forest Service… plus a spotter plane, this helicopter, and two slurry bombers. For more pics and video, follow Red Dirt In My Soul on Facebook and Instagram. Due to quick action, it was quickly put down, although they’ll be keeping a close eye on it.
When our sunsets look like this…
I remember this…
“Song Of Wyoming” by Chris LeDoux
I’m weary and tired, I’ve done my day’s riding, nighttime is rolling my way.
The sky’s all on fire and light’s slowly fading, peaceful and still ends the day.
Out on the trail, night birds are calling, singing their wild melody.
Down in the canyon, cottonwood whispers a song of Wyoming for me.
Well I’ve wandered around the town and the city, tried to figure the how and the why.
I stopped all my scheming, I’m just drifting and dreaming, watching the river roll by.
Here comes that big old prairie moon rising, shining down bright as can be.
Up on the hill there’s a coyote singing a song of Wyoming for me.
Now it’s whiskey and tobacco and bitter black coffee, a lonesome old dogie am I.
But waking up on the range, Lord, I feel like an angel, Feel like I almost could fly.
Drift like a cloud out over the badlands, sing like a bird in the tree.
The wind in the sage sounds like heaven singing a song of Wyoming for me.
A song of Wyoming for me.
July 20, 1969
My dad called me in from playing outside. I whined pitifully, preferring to hulahoop, or play some game with my friends, or something Very Important to my ten year old self.
“Get in here, now! Someday you’ll be happy to tell your grandkids you watched the first man walk on the moon!”
Where were you?