Bamm Brewer: Some memories of the annual Crazy Horse Ride

Thursday, February 24, 2011  

The following article by Bamm Brewer, a member of the Oglala Sioux Tribe, first appeared in the Lakota Country Times. All content © Lakota Country Times.

As smoke drifted thru the tipi poles and the warm sun rays shined, the camp was slowly coming to life. There was only a few riders moving around early, after two days of a long ride it was great to know it was a day of rest. The night was a long one. There was a low fog and everything was soaked, but the first person I saw was a smiley faced kid looking for his horse and that is what we were all about.

I rolled over and remember wishing for just a couple more hours of sleep. I was never a late sleeper but this was one time I wish I was. If I never felt age I was feeling it now. I hoped we had a dry ride ahead, but rain was always a part of our journey.

Next someone came over to see if we had any coffee, we didn’t even stand up yet. Then I heard someone talking they had a tough night .They were talking and the tone of their voice made me listen closer. They were talking in Indian, and I could make out some of it. As it seemed, they were saying some of the horses got out last night and in the dark some of the boys went after them.

We always left the horses secure and it was the young warriors duty to watch them throughout the night. They said something that ran a chill down my back. It was said the young boys who went up there on foot to get the horses, they were having some trouble the horses ran farther away into the night. The boys continued after the horses. Then a rider showed up out there in the dark! They couldn’t see the rider it was too dark, but the rider was trying to help them .They kept saying there was someone out there helping them. Whoever it was turned those horses around and they don’t know which way they went after that, or who it was. That was the morning mystery; it was the talk around that morning coffee pot.

That camp is a special place to the Lakota. Most of those kinds of experiences we thought we were used to after 10 years, but that one was a good one. You kind of give it a whirl in your mind then let it settle, there's no way to shake off a mystical experience like that, especially when you know you’re at the Crazy Horse Camp. It’s the kind of feeling we try to hold onto as long as we can. In a camp where yesterday meets today and we are one with our ancestors.

It had been a long time ago that Crazy Horse camped in the Beaver Creek area, in 2011 the people will ride again on June 5 through June 9; coming into the camp on the afternoon of June 7. The area was rich with game and good water and it provided a sheltered place from the hardest winters. The surrounding hills were loaded with big bucks, turkey, rabbits, and to the north in the plains were the antelope and buffalo. If ever there was a warrior camp this was it. The Beaver valley grew ash trees providing good hard wood for the camp. The camp was known to be a favorite camp of Crazy Horse and the people; it was also a Sundance ground, today in the month of June the people return once again. The camp in all its beauty is still there today. A historical landmark preserved and protected by the Kadelchek family north of Hay Springs Nebraska.

In 2010 on the rest night the Thunder beings spoke for three straight hours and the sound of washing rain gave the riders a wide awake night. I mean the thunders rolled a constant rumble for three straight hours. I knew morning would come fast after a night like that. I remember a constant hard down pour, everything soaked and horses singing with the rain into the night. The only time I could see anything was when the lightning would flash. Everyone had to duck into tents when that rain started. I came outside of the tipi to check on the situation and all looked normal, just a soaking wet camp. It was the Crazy Horse Ride alright.

Everyone took shelter and the camp kitchen tent, courtesy of John Two Bulls, was providing shelter for those that didn’t want to go to tents. It was always fun staying up late and visiting around a camp fire and a pot of coffee even in the rain, but when it started to rain really hard later that night everyone vanished. There wasn’t anyone over at the cooks’ tent anymore and it looked like I was the only one up when that rain hit. I walked up on the hill above the camp and when the lightning flashed, I knew that even as deserted as the camp looked it was not so, this was the Crazy Horse Ride and in this camp there were over 200 Lakota riders.

The sun always shined more than the rains drenched us and as the people always said when it rained; “it is a cleansing of the earth and the people” The nights were always something to remember on the Crazy Horse Ride. There is always some great laughter sitting around those crackling camp fires.

When the drum group pulled out the drum on a starry night that always brought us closer to the grandfathers; a 49 song or original camp honor song always stopped you in your tracks and you could feel it in your heart. The Cheyenne creek singers were always there from the start, Bull, Tim, Rob and John and what was great they weren’t just the drum group they rode too.

They’d sing into the night and then start out the next day’s ride with a prayer song. These guys were always a ton of laughs, when there not under the arbor they are sitting atop a green broke bronc. Anyway as I would often walk around camp I would stop at their camp for our usual joker session. It was always fun to see who was riding what horse; Brian Dean always had someone on a bronc in that camp.

This part of the journey is always my favorite, the people really come together and learn to travel as one oyate.In the beginning we may travel a little spread out, but by the time we get to the Beaver Valley area the people are closer. I really admired them for that togetherness, as today I see that to be one of our many difficulties. A difficulty that can be overcome and this is one event that can teach togetherness and team work. Great team work and the togetherness of our people are the heart and soul of the Crazy Horse Ride. To all the sponsors, cooks and supporters we would not have been able to do this event without you. All the Oyate coming together has been a Crazy Horse Ride Tradition. A tradition that echoes through the Beaver Valley.

Many times as I rode along I looked at our people and I was overwhelmed with pride, as they all came to ride for Crazy Horse and our Veterans. This was the whole reason we done this every year, because of our warrior people and what they stood for. In honor of all veterans and Crazy Horse we committed ourselves to this journey; a journey that has brought us closer to our ancestors and gave recognition to the real heroes of today, our veterans.

In a modern time when our youth really struggle with the difficulties of growing up, here is an event that has been a cultural, educational and spiritual experience for our youth. Our journey has seen some rough spots with injuries and accidents; I thank all of our people for your dedications to our Veterans and Crazy Horse. I have seen the people come together, we forgot anything that was negative or the hardships in our lives, I know some of those injuries were serious and the horse that we lost was a beautiful war pony. We continued on through it all to say thank you to those Veterans who returned from the battle fields, and to remember what Crazy Horse stood for. We took our youth on a journey back into who they really are, the future generation of the Lakota Nation.