LAS -> LAX -> LDN

Josh and I are up early. On the way to the airport to catch our flights home, Richard calls. He wants to come and have a coffee and say goodbye.

“When are you two going to see each other again?” he asks as we divide up the excess baggage.

“Oh probably not for a very a long time” I say, jokingly.

So he takes a hundred dollar bill from his wallet and rips it in two, handing us half each.

“This is so you can meet up sometime, and have a dinner on me”

It’s a nice touch.

We can’t quite believe this journey really is almost over, and the three of us wont be spending every waking moment together.

As we embrace and part ways Richard’s already on the phone. He’s heard Obama is in Vegas tonight and wants to hustle up some tickets.

It has been inspiring and frustrating and exhausting and remarkable and we’ve definitely got a film on our hands.

It has, as Richard would say, been real. And now we’re heading home.

The End?

Day 65 of the shoot. Richard is prevented from leaving Vegas by a burning car in the rental lot. It’s not over yet. He laughingly accepts the extra two days they will have to wait until the next Allegiant plane out.

Proud to be an American

We drive back from Williams, dodging Memorial Day traffic cops the whole way. Quick pit stop beside the Colorado river for a picnic, which sounds a lot more idyllic than the jet-ski infested riverside dust bowl it turned out to be.

Recipe for an argument: lack of sleep, too many people sharing a room, large “unappreciated” financial outlay, family dinner (mostly meat).

Recipe for a make up (or temporary cease fire): more expensive Cirque du Soleil show tickets and ice cream.

The water show outside the Bellagio is impressive and inspiring when accompanied by Sinatra or Puccini, but plain nauseating when “Proud To Be An American” is playing.

The family walk together along the strip. There are smiles and laughter. Josh takes a quick break from filming to acquaint himself with some local ladies. 

A Grand Don't Come for Free

Amongst hordes of tourists, the troops are finally gathered.

“Next time you want to go on a family holiday why don’t you all come to mine and we can spend three days bitching on the front drive” says Greg.

Eventually everyone has used the bathroom, bought more water and/or a plastic poncho, eaten energy bars, changed socks, taken photos, run back to the car one last time, and we’re ready to head off. We hire a mule train to carry all of the camera gear:

As the morning mist lifts the Grand Canyon reveals itself to be every bit as spectacular as any photo we have ever seen. We hike down into its vastness. 

Richard yodels. The youngsters forge ahead. People talk. Bonds are formed. Richard lies down every 50 minutes, and makes friends with strangers. Scenes are shot. Amends with Lynn. Sweat and sunscreen and water flow. Previously unacknowledged muscles become vocal as the day unfolds.

Josh completes a full health and safety risk assessment, and then films the circling condors from an outcrop.

As we toil back up after a flash thunderstorm Richard and Barb spend some time alone together on the trail. “Is the going up worth the coming down?” Barb asks, refering to Richard favourite Kris Kristofferson song The Pilgrim. It’s the right question to ask on so many levels.

Barry Big B Brenner is playing in the bar at the top afterwards. A pint of Fat Tire never tasted so good.

Round the fire later the 3 siblings - Zac, Kelli, Greg - and the new kid on the block - JP - share stories about growing up with Richard. There are amazing tales of cars balancing off the edge of cliffs and guns and police and arguments and life.

Route 66

We saddle up and head out of town. We’re heading for the Grand Canyon via Williams, a small town on Route 66 where we’ve booked rooms.

We crawl across the Hoover Dam and pull in to the only gas station we’ve seen for hours. It’s impossible to make a quick pit stop. The coolers come out. Food is microwaved inside the store. Richard upsets the owners first by spilling last night’s doggy bag everywhere, and then by sitting in a ‘restricted area’. We finally manage to leave two hours later.

Opposite the Motel in Williams there’s a rowdy band playing in a bar that’s built around a Wild West-style courtyard with a bonfire roaring so we join the fun. Beers are a dollar and there’s a special on fish tacos. The news is all good.

Early Rising

I made the mistake last night of asking Richard to call when he wakes up. The phone rings at 5.20am. He’s just calling to say he’s shaving. This is not a good sign.

Josh grabs the camera and heads out. The sunrise is amazing behind the Vegas skyline. Richard makes for a 7am recovery meeting.

In the afternoon Lynn, Richard’s second wife, arrives. She’s come all the way from Vancouver. She’s the real reason we’re here - so that Richard can make amends. Everything else came later, when the plan expanded in a flurry of enthusiastic conversations and emails to become a reunion of all Richard’s significants.

She and Barb hit it off immediately. The dinner goes well. They compare notes, they both have horror stories.

Greg and Michelle arrive today too and meet the rest of the crowd outside the Cirque Du Soleil show Richard has bought everyone tickets to see. It’s a full house. Afterwards the family wander round the old part of Vegas. Spirits are high.

Hustle Town

JP hasn’t slept. He was locked out of Richard’s room last night so ended up wandering around until 6am, via McDonalds, an illegal swim in the pool, Subway, and about 10 cups of coffee. He’s pretty wired, and very pissed off. He spends most of the day staring into space on various sofas around the hotel.

In the evening Josh and I head out of the city to try and film the skyline at night. A few miles out we climb a hill on foot to get a view. The earth is dusty and dry - this really is a desert. It brings home just how artificial the whole city is, shimmering gracefully in the distance.

Later, an epic dinner in an Asian restaurant at which Richard insists he wants to eat “the whole fish - head and eyeballs and all” and then spends an eternity immersed in a series of convoluted transactions involving discount coupons, new friends, and ordering entrees only instead of mains. Meanwhile he is also trying to hustle up someone local to book tickets to tomorrow night’s show at the MGM Grand. Locals get big discounts apparently.

This is a hustler’s town, and Richard is loving the hustle.

Son Zac and his girlfriend arrive later in the evening and the family catch a comedy show while we recce other locations on the strip for the family dinner tomorrow. We settle on the Mad Greek Cafe.

All you can eat

First day in Vegas. Richard takes us to the legendary buffet at The Orleans, where we’re staying.

“I don’t know of a single place in the world where two people can eat for less.”

He’s got a point. It’s two-for-one on tuesdays so for $5 a head we have the run of an enormous food hall, and free drinks. There are hundreds of calorifically challenged peeps at the troughs, chowing down on steaks and ribs for breakfast. It’s a spectacular sight.

In the afternoon we waddle out onto the strip for a wander, filming until we get told to stop and then moving on.

The city really comes alive as night falls. We’re booked in to the Stratosphere for dinner, where we get some shots of the city. The restaurant is 107 floors up and revolving gently so we get the full panorama. 

Richard clicks with the manager, Robert, who is old school Vegas. He used to hang with the Rat Pack. He worked with the Beach Boys. He’s met Buster Keaton for goodness sake. He and Richard flip it around. He’s right on the money. “Richard, you need to forgive yourself”. It’s a great encounter.

Furthur

Back on the bus. I fly in from Toronto, Josh and Barb and JP and Richard come from Fargo, where Richard’s 4 hiking sticks and breathing machine cause some hold ups but somehow he makes it on (last on last off of course).

I find them at the car hire desk, where Richard is bribing an employee with slices of cheese and pieces of sausage which he’s slicing off on one of the laminated brochures with a big pocketknife. There’s a big queue gathering behind but eventually we depart with two vehicles and a pretty good deal.

The bright lights of the strip are only about 15 minutes away. A few detours later and we’re at the hotel, where as soon as you come through the front door you hit rows of slots and dead-eyed punters feeding them relentlessly. It’s a barrage of noise and light and air conditioning.

Josh looks slightly shell shocked by the over stimulation of every sense after after the simplicity and slow pace of North Dakota.

And then there were two

It’s Day 50 of shooting. I’m up at 4.45am to catch a plane from Omaha to Houston, and then on to Toronto for the last couple of days of Hot Docs. Hopefully the film will be screening there next year. Josh stays behind to shoot with Richard’s first wife Nola.

Looks like Vegas is on, but who knows what might happen in the next 10 days. Last night Richard suggested Greg and his wife Michelle come along too. What began as a way to entice Lynn to a neutral place where Richard could make amends has grown into a full blown family get-together.

It feels strange to leave Josh and Richard - in some ways the journey is almost over, but there’s a process underway which feels like it’s only really beginning.

The Tao of Richard

Notes from a Breakfast Diplomacy Meeting:

Richard: “We need a system for resolving conflict and making decisions. When traveling with Mike in the 60s we used to flip a coin to decide where to go next, or who was paying. Why can’t we adopt that system?”

“This journey has already been the most significant growth in my twenty years of recovery and has set in motion a process that if kept on track can only have the most positive results of my life.”

“I am grateful to have been an instrument in your spiritual growth“

“We all like to hike. The summit we reach is not a destination it’s a rest point until we see the next valley and ridge to hike. We need time to rest up as we look at the valley ahead.”

“The thousand words are sometimes worth more than the pictures.”

“I am now more centred and calmly looking forward to the trip to Omaha and engaging with the people there. If we had not had this conversation I would have allowed my buttons to be pushed to total uncentredness”.

Great, lets get back on the road then.

When we arrive in Omaha Richard insists on finding a place he can buy bbq ribs. This is where he watched Obama’s inauguration and he wants to show us how down with the coloured folk he is.

“Is that an African accent?” he asks in the first place.

“No, I was born in Omaha”

They don’t have ribs, so we head to Bill’s which is next to a gas station in a fairly rough looking part of town.

“Akuna Matata brother” he says through a heavily fortified window, before placing his order.

There’s a procession of people buying cheap liquor, and Richard banters merrily with them all. Anyone else would have taken a beating but he’s all smiles as he walks out with a big bag of ribs 10 minutes later.

Son Greg is the eldest of his 3 children. They eat the ribs together in Greg’s back yard and chew the fat.

Richard presses him to get the skeletons out. Greg starts cleaning a rifle.

“When I was very young you paid a lot more attention to your friends than to me. Most of the time you were making a lot of promises and then not keeping them.”

“What could i do to be a better father from here on in”

(long pause)

“Pay attention to me. I’ve got something important to show you all the time. You’re my dad, I want to impress you. I’m proud of what I’ve done, and I want you to be proud of what I’ve done.”

When The Student Is Ready The Teacher Will Arrive

After a night in Mission and some ringing around we’ve managed to find Sylvan.

“Many winters have passed since we last met” he says on the phone when Richard speaks to him. He and Richard used to run together, and sobered up together.

Sylvan lives out in a newly built house with a creek running through the bottom of his land. He has a room full of trophies for horseshoe throwing. He lights wild sage as we sit down to break bread. He speaks slowly, deliberately.

They pray together to the Great Spirit to give Richard strength in this search for a new way of living. Sylvan shares stories of his own amends.

“You forgot your Treaty Paper“ he shouts, waving a toilet roll at Richard as we set off for Omaha.

Manic Tuesday

Last night we ended up at the North Star, which is closed on Mondays and run by a fellow whogoes by the name “The Living Legend”. He and Richad go back some, and they talk into the night in the empty bar.

We slept in a town called Gregory. In the morning Richard seems strangely hyper, and as he drives through town he suddenly pulls over and has a mock altercation with 12 foot gorilla (A statue of the town’s sports teams mascot). It seems we are beginning to see the ‘high’ side of a growing manic state.

We run in to a cowboy and his wife on an old pony trap. Richard lifts his shirt and asks the wife to whip him. It’s a good opener, and soon he’s riding alongside them. The cowboy turns out to be an old hand from California and treats us to an hour of fire and brimstone while his pretty (and much younger) wife looks on. 

Richard can’t resist a theological showdown with the right wing Baptist and an argument ensues. After getting kicked off the trap, Richard makes a a hasty amends (‘peace be with you brother!’) before the cowboy rides off.

Richard’s high is escalating and when we hit the cafe for lunch. He walks in with a scarf over his face holding a shotgun and demands to see the manager. The old ladies inside barely bat an eyelid.

Over lunch he gets a call. He loves to banter with salespeople, but as we listen (he’s sitting on another table of course) he starts to give out personal details. Card numbers. Security numbers. We try to stop him but he waves us away. Eventually he hands the phone to me, but the damage is done. I speak to the guy on the other end and question him but i can almost hear the money leaving richard’s account the longer we stay on the line. He calls his bank five minutes later, and a transaction for $995 has already gone through. Oh dear.

Richard comes back to earth with a bump and sets to work on the phone. Once again he has created a whole world of drama which needs to be unravelled.

On the way to Mission we couldn’t drive past this picture, so we lost Richard.

When we arrive he’s at the Native American University in the office of an Indian named Hollow Horn who has a photo of himself meeting the Pope on the wall. We’re trying to track down his old buddy Sylvan White Hat.

Crawlers

The room is alive with ticks. Well, two of them. JP spies one on Josh’s shirt, and I find one on my jeans. Then Richard comes in for a meeting, and he’s got one attached to the back of his neck. Josh does the honours.

We check out of the Siesta and hit the road. Richard has seen a storm brewing and wants to get his car hailed on so he can claim on the insurance. He speeds towards it.

The sky is a golden yellow, but soon we’re right in it. The rain falls so hard I can’t see more than about three metres ahead. It closes right in until I’m crawling. Then suddenly we’re out the other side, past a sign that reads:

“God does not keep us from life’s storms...He walks us through them”

The sunset is spectacular. We cross the Missouri as night falls and pause on the other side. As we film in the dusk, coyotes begin to howl.

Sunday by the lake

A new day. Somehow Richard manages to patch things up with Barb after an altercation at the Kongo and they head off to brother Mike’s place by the lake.

It’s a peaceful afternoon and after the tour Mike and Richard sit down and look through an album of photos which Richard has brought, with all the pictures from their global adventures together back in the 60s. These two used to be incredibly close. Now, it’s an amazing thing to witness them spending these few hours together.

We drive out see some of Mike’s land, and he shows us how he’s been planting to create the ideal habitat for wild pheasant to thrive. There’s real science at work, and years of preparation to ensure the birds can survive the harsh winters.

Meanwhile, Debs has their six hunting dogs out. I’ve never seen happier or better trained dogs. They’re quite a sight.

As night falls and ticks start appearing on people’s legs, we head to Ruby Tuesday for dinner. Today was a good one.

Kristofferson to Kongo

Richard’s birthday! We give him a book and his favourite Kristofferson album on cd. He apologises for having encouraged me to eat ‘Prairie Oysters’ which he later revealed were really pieces of deep fried bull’s testicles. I had not seen the funny side, but it’s a day for forgiveness.

Barb and JP drive down from Lidgerwood for a birthday dinner which turns out to be remarkably unremarkable - no arguments, no embarrassing scenes, nobody storms out. In fact it all goes very well. Bob Trusty, one of the original Robin Hood posse is here, so is brother Mike and his wife Debs and Barb and JP.

Afterwards as Josh films him in the car outside the Corn Palace, Richard is approached by a police officer who has spotted him parked illegally.

“Officer, in case you hadn’t noticed we’re making a movie”

“Yes, I can see that“

and then after checking his id Officer Badgood (really) proceeds to stop the traffic so Richard can pull a u-turn and go on his way.

The night ends at the Kongo Klub, a ‘legendary’ establishment where Richard misspent much of his youth.

Mike? check

We’re back in Mitchell. Brother Mike has agreed to be interviewed. We meet at his office. The walls are covered in hunting photos.

We hear stories from the 70’s. Early days of Robin Hood, the hunting service that Mike and Richard ran together with some friends. Weeks of hunting and drinking. There were some wild times. Good times. In the 20 plus years since, they’ve grown apart and led very separate lives.

“Yes he can make amends. Anything’s possible. But the clock is ticking and time is running out. He’s 69 years old now. Will he make them? That’s the $64,000 question. We’ll have to see”.

While we’re having lunch with Mike and his wife Richard calls to say he’s heading over to a recovery meeting and why don’t we film it.

Josh speaks to the assembled and they vote to allow us to film as long as we don’t reveal anyone’s identity.

The stories of loss and tragedy and broken relationships are heartbreakingly mundane but no less powerful for their familiarity. People shunned by their families, troubled by lifetimes of drinking and battling alcohol.

It feels a real privilege that they are willing to share their stories with us, and we leave humbled.

The day’s not over yet. Richard heads off to make amends with an old neighbor who he owed money to for some building work back when he lived here. The man is now in his eighties but when Richard called up to arrange to meet, his first words were “So are you going to pay me the money you owe?”

He doesn’t say much during the encounter, but Richard pays the first instalment, and then we head over to his old house by the lake.

He’s in reflective mood as the sun goes down, talking about how people here celebrated when he left.

One last song with Lenny

We learnt enough last time to keep out of the way during the packing and departure.

On a stretch of empty road we drive alongside Richard to film him driving. He has a ziploc bag full of hard boiled eggs which he munches in between phone calls.

Before we arrive in Mitchell, Richard pulls off onto the dirt track that leads to Lenny’s place.

This could be one of the last times they meet. Lenny is close to checking out.

“You’ve been a good friend Dick, and I like the journey you’re on. But I have to say in front of God and everyone, you’re absolutely nuts”.

They say their farewells.

Family Plot

Before we head off on the next leg Richard wants to visit the family grave.

As the light fades he talks about his parents, how his father never really recovered from his wife’s early death. The sadness at brother Bob’s refusal to see him as he lay dying, or even allow Richard at his funeral. How bad must things have got for Bob to not want to see his brother before he died?

Richard points out where he will be buried. It’s a strange thing to know where your final resting place will be.

Memories

Shooting with Richard as he searches out old photos in the attic.

North Dakota Game and Fish

“Today, I will not hunt illegally”

Until today Richard was an avowed poacher. His nemesis was the state Game Warden. They’ve played cat and mouse for years. Richard has very strong views on hunting, and his freedom to kill stuff on other people’s land.

But the Warden is on the Amends list, so after church Richard arranges to meet him out by one of the lakes. He doesn’t explain why.

It’s drizzling as he pulls up in his jeep, and they take a walk together.

The high of killing and hunting is something Richard has been chasing (and finding) since he could run and hold a gun.

This is going to be one of the toughest ones for Richard to accept. There’s no recovery program for poaching.

Ransom

On the spur of the moment we drive with Jim and Sandy out to their place near Fort Ransom. It has been tricky for Richard to get time alone with his brother Jim and say his piece - he has to apologise for almost allowing his brother to drown when a boat they were in together sank. He’s tried a couple of times already on the ranch. He tries again in the car. He finally succeeds by the flooded river which runs at the bottom of Jim’s property.

Over steaks from the bbq, Richard recounts the story of how we all come to be around the table. It all begins with a travel agent in Mitchell in the early 60s, a trip to New Zealand, a meeting (in Fiji?) with Lynn who went on to become his second wife, the child they had - Kelli - who thirty years later came to London and Josh met, a trip to Mt Kilimanjaro by Josh, Kelli and Richard, the seeds of a film. You know the rest. If any detail had been different, this journey, these moments, wouldn’t be happening like this.

Tex

Richard drives out to a ranch on the outskirts of Wyndmere. He’s here to make Amends with his oldest friend Tex.

As they sit down to speak, Richard is overcome with emotion. Tex is a hugely dignified man. He waits silently for Richard to compose himself. They talk. Well, mainly Richard talks. He circles and dives and circles again. He brings it round. He opens old wounds, and “kicks the crust off old turds to smell them one last time before we bury them”.

The repercussions of some of the harm he has caused in the past, and the loyalty of his friend, are brought home. They made bonds when they were young men which have lasted to this day, but they’ve been seriously stretched by some of Richard’s behaviour over the decades.

When he gets up to leave over two hours later, Richard looks about a stone lighter.

“The last time we spoke as long and as deep as this was fifty one years ago up in the Sand Hills, in a lean-to with a jug of Seagram Seven” says Tex, smiling.

Thriller

The days in Lidgerwood begin to blend in to each other. We’re still in The Motel where we’ve switched to a weekly rate.

We have pretty much exhausted the food options. Naked Juices from the gas station are the only reliable source of vitamins. It’s proving a challenge to get Richard back on the road, he’s got himself tied up in insurance deals.

We start telling people Michael Jackson is moving to town when they ask why we’re filming.

Dash Dot Dot Dot

“One of the last times he was here, broad daylight, all of a sudden he jumps up and proceeds to go over to the tree on the corner of the driveway and just relieves himself right on the tree there.”

Richard’s sister lives in a nice suburban neighborhood. She’s on the front lawn, surrounded by Easter decorations. She’s explaining why her husband Larry doesn’t like Richard coming over to visit.

During the course of our conversations she adds more pieces to the jigsaw. She has the same energy as the other Kuchera’s we’ve met. It’s fascinating to see the overlaps.

Her infectious enthusiasm for life is born out of a serious illness ten years ago which she survived.

“It’s a lifelong journey to figure out why am I here, what am I supposed to be doing? The greatest gift that I received was the illness of cancer 10 years ago. I think of it as a privilege to be chosen by God to go through this adversity - in going through that you realise what we are really here for”.

Towards the end of the interview, she tells us the story of a reading at a recent funeral,

“Your tombstone has the year you were born, and the year you died, and then in the middle will be the dash. And in the end it isn’t important what year you were born and what year you died, but what you did with the dash, what did you do with your life in between”.

Bodily functions to death, via family and the church. It’s classic Richard.

Not Biting

An early morning drive to a secret fishing location.

Dead by the side of the road: raccoon, skunk, pheasant, badger, squirrel, various unidentified birds.
Alive: pheasant, duck, deer, pelicans.
Fish caught: 0.

A Dog's Life

"I’ve found Bodie!"

"I don’t believe it, where was he?"
"In the kennel, come take a look"
We walk around to the back of the house. The dog cage is empty.
"Where is he?"
"Inside, go take a look"
"Bodie! Here boy!"
Nothing.
"Look inside!"
Richard goes down on all fours. His head disappears inside.
"Bodie!"
He reaches in. As he reverses out, we see he’s holding a dog’s front legs.
Bodie slowly emerges from the kennel. There are strange liquids oozing from him.
"Oh Bodie"
"He must have died in the winter"
Bodie has been missing for months. In the meantime Richard’s current dog Pepsi has been sharing her sleeping quarters.
Richard calls over a young girl who has been playing next door.
"Watch how well trained my dog is"
He points at the lifeless creature.
"Play dead Bodie! Play dead!"

Lidgerwood

Time starts to slip down a gear in Lidgerwood.

On old boy drops off some fishing rods. JP and Richard butt heads over domestic arrangements. Richard composes a letter to the sister who refuses to see him. The dog gets walked a lot by the lake. Insurance deals are set up and meetings arranged.

Meanwhile we’re making friends. Mrs Bohnenstingl who runs the Lidgerwood Cafe (we resolve after a few beers to open a business back in London called Bohnenstingl’s), DayDay who is janitor at the local school, member of the volunteer fire squad, throws his darts underarm and says “It don’t matter” a lot, which swiftly becomes a catch phrase.

There’s Richard’s hunting partner Randy and his oversexed dog Bud, who Randy assists in impregnating any bitch in town who’s in heat. Across the road is wise old Eli, who served in Korea and flies the Stars and Stripes in the front yard.

Not much to do here but it’s strange, we’re not tempted to turn the television on once. TV here is rubbish.

Brother Jim

Wyndmere, ND. Richard’s home town.

Richard’s brother Jim lives here out on his farm. He’s got the family handlebar tash and a fast talking no-nonsense delivery peppered with jokes and expletives.

We film with him out on the ranch as he feeds the cows. We drive in his pickup over to collect hay on the site of what used to be the largest turkey farm in the US. The whole complex is deserted after the place went bankrupt and there are row after row of empty corrugated barns.

The cows are friendly, but it’s one of the horses that gets up close and personal with Josh and gives the camera a lick.

Back at their place his wife Sandy shares her just-out-of-the-oven rice krispie cakes and we sit down for a chat.

Afterwards we make it to the local bar just in time for happy hour. Richard joins us and as Jim tucks in to beers, it’s clear he’s got things to say. Talk turns to an upcoming family reunion in June and he warns Richard that “there will be none of that healing talk shit”.

For supper we eat a goose that Richard acquired under dubious circumstances and has had roasting all day.

Remote

A tumbleweed blows across the main street in Hankinson, North Dakota, as we search for a different place to stay. I’ve never seen a tumbleweed in real life before. I guess it’s not a good sign. We feel properly in the sticks here - the only decent bar in Lidgerwood burnt down a few weeks ago.

We join Richard, Barb and JP to film on a walk outside the town. There’s a small graveyard full of tombstones written in German. It’s sparse and austere countryside and the lakes still have ice on. Somehow even out here Richard finds someone to talk to and before long we have met a landowner who has a license to shoot turkeys and a son in law who knows how to call them. They’re in season so there may be some hunting on the cards. I’ve always wanted to meet someone who can imitate a female turkey and summon male turkeys the their death.

As we break bread later, Richard realises he’s left his shotgun out on the back porch at the Portable Ranch House, along with a bag which contains his tape recorder and all the notes for his Amends. He puts in a call to the local bar and manages to convince someone to drive out there and rescue the stuff from the rain. This man was born to hustle.

Pow Wow

We are woken by the sound of four rotund elderly ladies bouncing in the pool outside the window.

It was a late night by the time we had taken all the footage in and called it a day so it’s a bleary start. Breakfast overlooking the Missouri. Josh asks for HP sauce, then Marmite. The waitress is confused.

Back up on the reservation Richard calls a ‘meeting’ and passes around his ‘meeting stick’. It’s a very un-British approach to problems - talking about them - but it seems to yield results. Grievances and tensions which have been building for the past few days are aired. The filming process inevitably puts strain on everyone, and this seems to be a way of dealing with the issues quickly. The main one seems to be power lines and Richard’s pathological insistence that they shouldn’t be in any shots.

Richard gets very emotional when one of the Native American security ladies he has been buttering up gives him the phone number of the tribe’s medicine man as we are leaving. He tries to call but there's no reply. 

We drive out to Sitting Bull’s memorial and he picks up a couple of young squaws on the way. It’s a beautiful location but they have surprisingly little to say about Sitting Bull. He was a Sioux holy man who “had intense spirituality that pervaded his entire being in his adult years and that fueled a constant quest for an understanding of the universe and of the ways in which he personally could bring its infinite powers to the benefit of his people". Sounds like our kind of guy.

A full day of driving, and stopping to shoot scenery or airborne wildlife. At one point there's a flock of cranes riding thermals above us - We finally roll in to Lidgerwood for $1 burgers at the Genoseo Grill. Richard carries his own meat everywhere. Tonight he brings a full spread in Zip-Lock plastic bags and we commandeer an empty basketball court to eat in. I’ve never been so glad to see a bag of salad in my life. We drink the only four Fat Tire beers in the bar then retire exhausted to The Motel (there’s only one in Lidgerwood).

Delayed Departures

It’s goodbye Spearfish, hello North Dakota. We’re ready to head North. We arrive atthe Portable Ranch House at 10am - in plenty of time for the scheduled midday departure.

As time begins to pass it gradually dawns on us that there are a mountain of ‘tasks’ to be completed before we leave. We wash up. We make beds. We carry cases out. We stow skis in the shed. Richard decides to hoover. Then he decides to spend a long time picking things up, moving them, and putting them down somewhere else. His ADD is in full effect - he tells me in the car later that his nickname used to be ‘Lightning’ for this very reason.

A few skuffles later we finally roll out at 5, with an 8 hour journey ahead.

It’s a massive relief to be moving at last. We’re travelling in two cars so we keep changing the configuration. Richard keeps up a constant stream of conversation. He has bags of cheese and meat and olives on the dash. The club soda is flowing. 

We see wild turkeys right in the middle of the road. We see buffalo. We see beautiful sunset.

By the time we reach the halfway point - a place just over the Missouri called Mobridge - it’s getting late and Richard decides to overnight. The Mo’Rest is full. The Wrangler Inn is expensive. We head to the casino a couple of miles out of town where Richard works the comp system by telling them we’re here making a documentary about Native American culture and wangles a free room. It’s the last empty one in the place - they’ve got 20 Indian families staying here after their village flooded. Josh and I head back to the Wrangler and collapse.

Rushmore

Easter Sunday. Apart from Christmas, this is the big one for the Catholic Church. There is a non-denominational event at Mount Rushmore at 7 so we head off at 4.30am to catch the sunrise.

The monument looks impressive in the early morning mist.

The service opens with sixty kids drumming on stage. It’s hands in the air. Their leader is a very enthusiastic and slightly camp middle-aged man who leads with gusto. He's holding a green mic. 

Richard is wearing about 10 layers of clothing. He’s in irreverent mood and cracks open a club soda during the sermon. He makes a beeline for the only black family in the congregation and tells them how proud he is to be an American now that Obama is in the White House. It’s all going well until he asks the father how it feels to be the token black man in the audience.

He insists on Josh filming him at Crazy Horse nearby, telling the camera how connected he is with the Native Americans.

To Rapid City and the Cathedral. It’s a full house. The procession of people coming up to receive communion lasts for three hymns. They keep coming. Afterwards the priest spends a long time reading the location release but Richard is on fire and soon he’s charmed.

We share an Easter lunch with Richard at the Bay Leaf. He has a habit of getting up mid-mouthful, walking to another table, and starting a conversation. Soon he knows everyone in the place, including a musician who’s friends with Kristofferson and agrees to put us in touch. Result.

Following the tracks

We’re trying to pick up the traces of someone who lived in this town over 20 years ago and in many cases the trail has run cold - people have died, others have moved away, some simply want to forget.

Josh speaks to Coyote, another original member of the Robin Hood hunting guide service that Richard ran with Mike back in the day. Coyote is in hospital so we arrange to film next time we pass through. He's a pilot and a craftsman and a hustler and a hunter. He's another fragment of the story we're beginning to piece together.

We have breakfast in somewhere purporting to be “The Greatest Coffee Shop in the World” which turns out to be anything but.

Sadly we don’t have time to check in with the extraordinarily named Bonnie Bollock

After shooting some GVs around town we stop off in Cabela’s - an ‘outdoor supplies’ store on the outskirts of town which is a cathedral to hunting and killing stuff. They have an amazing display of stuffed animals which takes up the whole of the back wall.

It also affords us the first sighting of beaver on the trip.

We jump back in the car and make the 5 hour drive back from Mitchell - the snow has begun to melt and the countryside is brown and dry beneath the white.

It’s Good Friday and we’ve arranged to film in the Catholic Church in Deadwood. Deadwood turns out to be a tourist trap - grannies feeding the slots and chowing down at the buffets.

The service begins with the priest lying prostate in front of the altar and there’s a procession of people who come to the front to kiss the cross. Good hymns this time. We're becoming Catholics by proxy. 

The Mitchell Brother

We’ve arranged to meet Richard’s brother Mike in Mitchell. His participation in the film is crucial, but he’s understandably cautious. They travelled the world together as young men, but by all accounts things got pretty fraught over the years and Mike has been keeping his distance.

We meet in a coffee shop near his office. His wife joins us and we talk about hunting, training dogs, shooting in England. 

Mike has given Richard plenty of chances over the years. He’s lived through the good times, and the bad, and suffered the consequences of Richard’s behaviour. We leave with the door open, but no guarantees.

In the afternoon we meet with Lenny, another old friend of Richard’s, who lives right out in the middle of nowhere. He’s still a bit high from a session with the dentist and then he takes a hit of some particularly strong weed before the interview, so it takes a while to slip in to gear. When he hits the marks there’s some great stuff in there, and his voice is resonant and full of history - he tells us “I’ve been knocked down and run over so many times I can tell the make of tyre that’s coming”.

Josh asks him to write some songs for the film.