Chapter 2

We passed Rapid City and I-90 turned north. To interrupt my musing, the GPS made its "doorbell" sound and a mechanical woman's voice announced our exit next. The noise woke Krista. She straightened her seat and reached for her coffee. She asked, "How long now?"

"We leave the highway, and take county roads now. Part of it is two-lane and open range, so we won't make good time. Figure an hour."

"You okay driving?"

"I'm fine, K. Help me navigate and watch for suicidal cattle."

"Cool."

With Krista helping, we pulled into downtown Deadwood in under an hour. We would be staying with Dan and Jan O'Hara at their Deadwood Bed and Breakfast. Since they were also competing, the B&B was closed for this week. We were lucky to have a bed. Many competitors were staying in Rapid City and driving in every day.

We drove to the old livery stable on the north end of Main Street. Dan and Jan owned the dilapidated old building. We would be parking the pick up and trailer in the stable during our stay. The stable is an original, permanent, wooden structure that has been on the end of Main Street since the beginning of the Gold Rush.

Krista jumped out to open the combination padlock and swing open the main door. I pulled straight in. I climbed out and stretched as Krista lowered the ramp to release Duke from the trailer.

I walked over to the small window of what was the stable attendant's office. I reached to my belt and pulled out my lucky silver dollar. I turned to Krista, waved the dollar and said, "I'll leave the money for our stay here on the counter."

So saying, I threw the dollar on the counter.

It hit the counter.

The room rocked once to the left, then spun once on its axis to the right.

"What the fuck was that?"

Krista and Duke were standing, frozen, in stunned silence. Duke had his legs braced and ears forward. Krista was hanging from his bridle, trying to regain her feet. I was hanging on the counter.

We looked around at a building suddenly in much better condition with the smell of freshly cut lumber in evidence. There were no horses in stalls but the hay was fresh and bags of oats filled a small storage room. The office now had a cot and personal effects.

Krista and I cautiously opened the main door to confront Downtown Deadwood at the height of the Gold Rush!

The hitching rails were filed with horses and the saloons were loud even in the early afternoon. Krista and I looked carefully and then closed the door. She asked, "Is that what or when I think it is?"

"Yes, I think that is 1876 Deadwood."

"How?"

"I don't know, but my lucky silver dollar is from the Denver Mint and dated 1870. When it hit the counter the room switched."

"Can we go back?"

"One way to find out."

I picked up my 1870 dollar and then retrieved my 1951 silver dollar. The coin was a gift from my grandfather on my golden birthday commemorating my birth year.

I held up the "modern" dollar.

"Ready?" Krista and Duke nodded. I swear, he did. In a universe which had just given me a convincing demonstration of time travel, it didn't seem worth remarking on.

I dropped the dollar. It hit the counter. The room spun and lurched the other way.

We were back in the dilapidated modern day livery stable. Krista said fervently, "God damn, that was a rush."

Well, if Krista had the same reaction I did, then the whole thing hadn't been a hallucination. "K, I think we should have a talk with Jan and Dan."

"Good idea."

Given what had just transpired, the rest of our time in the livery barn was mundane. We unloaded suitcases, garment bags and two large duffle bags. Krista threw a sheepskin exercise pad on Duke's back. We roped the two duffle bags together and threw them over the pad. Then we roped the two garment bags together and threw them over the pad as well.

A word of warning: Don't try this at home! Most horses loaded like Duke would be in a bucking and kicking frenzy immediately, if not sooner. Duke took the load with his trademark equanimity, and patiently waited for his mistress to grab his lead rope.

Krista grabbed a suitcase. I grabbed the aluminum case holding our handguns. Long guns were in a steel vault in the horse trailer.

We walked out of the livery stable, with Krista leading Duke. I locked up. We sauntered down the modern Main Street until we turned west toward the Bed and Breakfast.

Jan and Dan were waiting. We had no sooner opened the front gate, than they came rushing out their front door.

Dan was short, but very broad. A classic "easier to step over than walk around." None of it was fat. He was amazingly strong.

He was also a martial arts instructor, with a dojo in his garage in Deadwood. That probably wouldn't pay the bills except for his contract with the South Dakota State police as a martial arts instructor. Dan also taught them to use their PR-24 tee-baton nightsticks. The PR-24 batons are equipped with a side handle, and are actually derived from the oriental Tonfa weapon.

Dan also instructed in his own martial art combination that involved strikes and throws also in combination with any or all of So staff, Manrikigusari chain, Whip chain, Tonfa, Sai, Katana, Wakizashi, Tanto, and Nunchaku. Dan also practiced with throwing knives, spikes and shuriken. He regularly carried an oak staff reinforced with brass caps and brass straps.

Dan specialized in bowie knife and tomahawk throwing events at the Roundups. His shooting skill was the shotgun, and he carried a ten-gauge Berretta side by side goose gun, with outside hammers cut down to a coach gun.

Jan was a petite brunette. She was short and slender with terrific muscle tone. She ran an exercise studio here in Deadwood, in addition to the B&B.

Jan was the "dead-eye" of the group. She had a Sharps falling block rifle in 45-110. Her long barreled rifle was literally almost bigger than she was. She would compete with iron sights to distances of 600 or more yards. She also shot in an event called Cowboy silhouette. The targets were metal cut outs to be knocked down at 50, 100, 150, and 200 yards. Jan uses a Winchester lever gun in 38-55 for that event. She has a wall full of trophies to attest to her skill.