The sounds of a million hooves rumbling in the tall prairie grasses.

The great American Bison.

The clack of wooden wagon wheels turning, passengers dreaming of what the western horizon will bring.

Pioneers that tamed the trail.

I walk a small portion of the Santa Fe trail in Kansas, and hear the songs of the native American Indian in the wind.

The cloudless blue sky penetrates my soul, rips my body in two.

I feel cleansed.

Wench, bring my ale, what say you?

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