While nothing can replace the power of the Horse Medicine and the experience shared in sacred community, due to COVID, 2020 was used to celebrate the "Spirit of the LakotaRide", honoring previous rides and riders and continuing to move the objectives of the LakotaRide forward.
The Spirit of the LakotaRide took place virtually, through Facebook and Instagram, and helped us to remain connected with LakotaRide alumnus, share their stories, pictures and more! We've shared those stories and more from the Spirit of the LakotaRide on this page. Enjoy!
Opening Ceremony Live Streams
Ramona White Plume Video of Pine Ridge Tour
Rider Reflections
Each day of the scheduled LakotaRide we gave thanks for the people and the memories that have made the LakotaRide so special over the years. Below are reflections from some of our beloved Riders on their experiences:
Dorothy - 2018 LakotaRider “Good Day, So not sure what should happen now... Memories? Where do I start? I learned so much on the Ride And thought I knew so much. I never knew I really didn’t need a shower every day in 90+ heat. But hot dang you really don’t. Returning to the ‘land of plenty,’ I did not abuse the GIFT of running water again. Dave, our fearless and funny leader, who was this man of many hats, a Sunday school teacher who had the little paint horse that could. He seemed to thrive on chaos!!! And yet around every chaotic corner there was peace. Running from town to town, not really knowing where we would stop to rest……He thrived. Day by Day, we struggled but laughed and ATE. I was so hoping to lose weight on this adventure……JELLY DONUTS. At 5 am with a magnificent sunrise in the middle of Nebraska, there should not be the most delicious jelly donuts. Or in the Perfect storm creating the maybe lifetime cancelation of the Frontier days in Wyoming ice and snow storm Pizza run. I mean, how lucky could one girl get to have her horse lose a shoe and end up at a steakhouse mid day while the storm raged on her tribe? Snow in July??? Even the Pizza guy said UH????? I delivered pizza to my tribe only to find more chaos. Cause folks, life just is full of chaos. Stay strong, eat pizza, sleep, and carry on…….because Life and THE RIDE go on. The Children, ok so under 65 are children, helped everyone from the oldest to the youngest. They worked together towards one common goal: Arrive alive at Pine Ridge Rez. Which we did!! I am not really sure how. What, where was the most fun?? That run I seemingly saved ole Romeo for 16 + miles. When all the horses were plum-tuckered out, me and my trusted partner persevered. I had held him back in the trailer on more than one run (over that 400 mile ride) cause he was mine. My friend, my trusted friend, my partner whom I loved and cared for and who took care of me on more than one occasion. Therefore I too had his back. When I needed him most……we thrived. Then there was DAVE. “Turn him out on 500 acres,” he said, “We will catch him in the morning,” he said. Good thing I was too tired to argue, for Dave was right one more time. And man we had some fresh fruit that night along with the most excellent dinner. Seemed we never dieted? Then there was ADAM. He would sleep atop a trailer at night yet carried every bucket of water I needed for 3 weeks. People, 3 weeks. You have no idea. Never complained, never wavered. However, he did voluntarily sleep atop the trailers. He also was one of the only ones to ride my Romeo bareback…….ADAM. I will never forget his peace, his grace, his smile, his laughter, his lack of drama…….. Those kids…..under 65……. that laughed that danced that helped each other EMILY RHEA Sammy Sierra they swam horses and made dinner they washed clothes and cleaned dishes all the while laughing and living this dream of We are all connected. However so few understand….. The Ride That Changed Us all……”
Nancy - 2019 LakotaRider and Supporter “It is difficult resolving two aspects of my personality and life path as I navigate Life: an optimism that most of humanity instinctively chooses the High Road and my love for studying the history of civilization. Yikes. A car wreck - a head on collision - tectonic plates - an earthquake - come to mind. The history of the expansion of the U.S.A. is a lesson in dishonesty, subjugation, disrespect, and cruelty. Our European culture bulldozed the Lakota culture, a culture in which spirituality is integrated into the rhythms of daily life, where honesty, respect, compassion, and wisdom are venerated. I welcomed the Ride as a way to learn about the Lakota by hosting the Riders and Friends as they departed Sedalia. I approached the Ride as a way to help them. I was sorely mistaken. The Ride changed me. Philosophic discussions with Dave, a hamburger lunch shared with Hank and the horse crew at McDonaldʼs, a hug from Miya, a smile from Pansy, the gentle spirit of the Lakota, the morning blessing, our mutual respect for the Tsunka Wakan, and the general spiritual connectivity - we were part of something much bigger than ourselves, an awakening, the World as itʼs supposed to be. So many lessons - the World needs a lot of healing right now. Thank you, Tipi Raisers.”
Maria - 2018 LakotaRide Logistics Support To navigate horses, riders, volunteers, trailers and support vehicles 400+ miles from Sedalia, Colorado to Pine Ridge, South Dakota—in all kinds of weather—is extraordinary. The challenges are ongoing and often unforeseen. The “plan“ is loose, open to diversion on a moment’s notice and the communication piece can often seem frantic. To the untrained eye, one might even call it deranged. But what evolves daily between the Lakota and the non-natives who ride, work, smudge, eat, play and pray together for 22 days is nothing short of divine. Every night, 30+ campers circle up to share and, in Lakota tradition, close in the same way by adding, “Mitakuye Oyasin“—punctuating that “we are all related.” At the end of a day filled with grit, courage, laughter, horses, sun, rain or tornado, nothing seems more true. I was not a rider. My part was to essentially drive ahead and scout out our day’s destination - to prepare and anticipate the needs of the horses, riders and volunteers coming in. “Someone always rode shotgun with me to man the walkie-talkie and cell phones that were often being used at the same time. Sometimes it was Junior “Dean,” often it was my daughter, Daisy, who talked me down more than once. We were usually the first to arrive and meet our hosts and understand the landscape. On day seven, all of us were headed for Carr, Colorado, a small jump from the Wyoming border, and that day was to be the end of the line for me. Terry was at my side as we drove onto Rusty’s place. We arrived early enough to share Gatorade and chat a good long time on the back of my van. Rusty‘s wife, Janna, brought out more ice to replenish our depleting coolers. I remember there was a moment when Terry was sharing Lakota traditions with me, that I was also noting simultaneously how full of gratitude my heart was just to be there and listening to him. I will forever see wasps differently because of Terry. The wind began to pick up and the clouds were moving in just as the RV and many of the support vehicles arrived. Many of us recognized the urgency to get the tents up as quickly as possible for cover. That storm took our 10-foot pop-up that afternoon and blew it across the prairie like a tumbleweed. We surrendered and let mother earth have her way with us for a good hour or so. When she had passed, we all resumed pulling the camp together. Dan, from Wales, put on some traditional Welsh music that made us smile and got him talking about home. After a while, he changed the music to more vintage pop and “Me and Julio Down By the Schoolyard“ came on. I cried out, “I love this song!” I started to dance and invited Junior to join me. He took my hand and there we were, dancing to Simon and Garfunkel after a storm, in the middle of a prairie of northern Colorado—arguably Native land. I will never hear that song again without thinking of that day, the smell of parched earth after a rain and seeing the gentle smile on Junior’s face. I don’t believe that I ever thanked Junior for dancing with me that evening—perhaps because it’s taken this much time to digest how meaningful it was to me. Until now, I have hesitated in writing down all that the Ride encompassed for me. Words have fallen short when I have tried to describe the depth and breadth of any recollection. I hope that my words here and now do not offend the memory. Driving back to Denver that night in the dark, I wept. Even now, as I attempt to reach back for this story to share, I wonder if anything I put down will adequately capture the nuances of how sacred those seven days were, how transformative a conversation can be on the back of a van with a cold beverage or how holy a shared dance became on a warm July night. Wopila, Junior.”
Suzy - 2017 and 2018 LakotaRider “There are more happy memories of Lakota Rides 2017 and 2018 than I can count or even recall at the moment, but there are certain people who I can never forget. It was always the young people who made the biggest impression on me, and I wish I could tell a story about each one of them. One person in particular is Levi. I still remember how he and his cousin Thomas would pick grass and carry it in a wheelbarrow over to the horses at one of the sites we stayed at, and helped shovel horse manure in corrals. Levi’s presence was quietly encouraging, because he never complained, at least not out loud, and even though it took him a while to feel comfortable on a horse, he always treated them with gentleness and care. I was so proud to see him ride with his Uncle Waylon the second year I was on the ride, and the look of joy on his face to be on a horse will forever stick with me. On days when it was hard to go on with the ride and everyone was tired, the exuberant spirits of the kids always gave me that extra bit of energy and motivation I needed. It has been a joy to watch the children grow, some into young men and women. I missed them all at Lakota Ride 2019, and will miss them dearly this year and think of them often. They are all truly sacred and special.“
Sammy - 2018 and 2019 LakotaRider “For the Lakota people, the circle is a sacred symbol that represents the union of all aspects of life: the living and non-living, the two-legged and four-legged, the birds in the sky and the creatures in the ground, and everything else in between. All of the beautifully dysfunctional elements that make the Lakota Ride what it is—the big red horse trailer, the sacred horses, the slightly banged up RV, the storytelling, the playing in creeks, the daily morning logistical meetings, the unrelenting sun, the getting lost on horseback in the middle of nowhere-ville Wyoming, the liberating feeling of galloping together through the open plains, the laughter shared over the day’s shenanigans, the unforgettable silly games, and the tears of sadness and of mourning—each come to life through the power of the sacred circle, which is always the foundation of our camp. The circle of camp chairs serves as the site of epic games of catch and water gun battles, the birthplace of Pansy’s new phrase “sort it!”, lots of mosquito swatting, and in the case of this particular picture, ceaseless laughter. But most of all, the circle reminds us that we are all related in each of our journeys through life. From all of the laughter, struggle, pain, and empathy we shared together within the sacred circle, the Lakota Ride teaches us that reconciliation is achievable only in communion with others.”
Eve - 2018 LakotaRider “I found out about the Lakota Ride while at the University of Georgia. I did not know much about it, but I felt very drawn to go. I’m so glad I did! I was not able to join until the last week, and ended up arriving the same day as Chloe. We met with everyone else in the evening around dinner, and then joined in for a community circle. Everyone was so kind and welcoming. Right from the start I was amazed by the connectedness. The drums, song, and prayer were so powerful. I also loved having the opportunity to ride the horses. There were eye opening moments throughout the experience - moments that helped me understand the mistrust, and moments where healing shined through. The memories from the Lakota Ride stir in my mind, heart, and prayers often. It’s something I want to continue to be involved with, but to be honest I’m not sure in what role yet. That may be something that varies over time. I am very thankful for the kind people I met, and for the opportunity to be a part of this experience.”
Daisy - 2018 LakotaRider and Logistics Support Assistant “One of my favorite memories from the Ride happened on a trail just outside of Denver. We were deep into the day of riding fast to make up the distance lost from a late start. It had been my first day of riding and I was grateful when the pace slowed down for a while. Due to the geography of our route, the riders and horses, including myself, were separated from the caravan of cars. Everything had been going rather well with Dave in the lead when I heard commotion coming from the riders behind me. Waylon was off his horse and a storm of dust was all around him as he moved erratically across the ground. Within moments his shirt was off and he started whipping the dirt. It was an alarming image, if not confusing, to see on the trail. One of the other riders close by noticed that he was desperately trying to catch a chipmunk, so we paused to watch the entertainment as it unfolded before us—a grinning Waylon scuffling with a terrified rodent. The one person in the group who did not stop to enjoy the show was Dave. It quickly became clear that he was unaware of what Waylon was doing and his first instinct was that he had fallen off the horse. Before I knew it, the radio was on and Dave was shouting to the caravan, “Rider down! Rider down! We need the nurse!” The rest of us quickly began trying to stop the alarm that Dave had started—that, in fact, Waylon was not hurt, but was instead messing with a critter on the trail. But between the overlapping voices and distance between us, the message was not relayed. Adam and Sierra stepped in trying to calm Dave and explain the situation, but even then, it took them several attempts to get his attention. It wasn’t until Waylon stood up with his goofy grin holding the squirming chipmunk in his shirt that Dave fully realized what was going on. I could see the relief on his face and soon we were all laughing together at the chaos we had just experienced.”
Cindy - 2019 LakotaRider “I think the most memorable thing about the Ride is the friendships I made and how each person added to make it such an awesome experience. Mitakuye oyasin!”
Noah - 2019 “One of my favorite parts of the ride is forming friendships at (personal) record pace with people from different corners of the country with vastly different backgrounds - on the reservation, on farms with horses, in Africa... I have many exemplary memories of this sort of thing: driving the big red horse trailer with Miya and Skyla, having Eric ping baseballs at me for me to catch at our camp, trying to hold our wounded horse still while Cindy bravely put medicine in its eye, going to get a haircut with Oliver, ending one long day’s ride to meet a group that came all the way from Europe...the list goes on. To me, these memories show the love and dedication that Uncle Dave, Aunt Lori, and the rest of the Tipi Raisers team put into reconciliation with the Lakota. It reminds me of the importance of diverse friendships, of our responsibility to help systematically oppressed people in the US and around the world, and inspires me to return to see how their work has grown in both size and impact.”
Emily - 2017 and 2018 LakotaRider “I miss The Ride. For the past several weeks I've been thinking about it and just feel such a strong draw like I need to get back. I miss the freedom and the friendships. I think it shifts something in you while we're all out there. It feels like a rebalance, and I know I need that again. For three weeks we became a family. We worked together, ate together, rode like crazy and helped each other along the way. We might not have been a perfect family, but we always kept the common goal at the heart of everything we did. We laughed a lot and sometimes we cried. We smudged, circled, and listened to Waylon tell stories until we fell asleep by the fire. We took care of our horses and they took care of us. We learned new ways and formed new bonds and made memories that will last a lifetime. We had the honor of listening to songs sung with drums and hear words of wisdom that have been passed down through generations. We got to experience Inipi and had the privilege of being welcomed into homes on the reservation. All of this, it sticks with you, it changes something in your spirit to be a part of something with so much strength. To be with people of so much strength! It brings healing and power when we come together in such a way and I am so proud, humbled, and honored to have been a part of it and get to know all of you as well as the horses. I miss you all and I can't wait to ride together again soon! Mitakuye Oyasin ♡”
Joe - 2019 LakotaRider and Medic (and current Featured Volunteer) “UNLEARNING AND RELEARNING PEELING THE LAYERS. My use of the word truth would be disingenuous if I said 54 years of cultural programming didn't etch biases and inaccurate narratives into my distorted lens of the world. Having a distortion in my lens sometimes makes current events more palatable. Each week I learn that there is much I need to unlearn, and this is a complicated mess, I learned. Reminiscing back to the 2019 Lakota Ride of Reconciliation, which began in Castle Rock Colorado tucked in the foothills of the Rocky Mountain Front Range, there was much unlearning and relearning. The Lakota riders, fresh off the Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota, circled their horses. A befuddling dichotomy was before me. These Native people mounted on horseback, who were forced off their ancestral land onto a reservation (also designated as prisoner of war camps by our federal government) live on the most socio-economically depressed areas in North America. Ironically, the Natives are our "guests" in one of the wealthier areas in the nation. An area that was colonized by the culture that drove the Natives onto the reservations in order to secure this spot of land.
The opening invocation of the three week adventure from Castle Rock, Colorado to the Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota began with prayers voiced in the Lakota language of song and drumming. The God of the Lakota and my God have a different name but the warmth of the spirit embracing my heart ensures me our Creator is the same. The beating of drums overdubbed the rhythm of my own heartbeat. Flute music floated off into the winds and the song was prayers of thanksgiving and blessings. Hooves tore into the Earth, dust rose into the air and the spirit of horse became present. The horse is a source of pride, pageantry, spirituality and healing for these Lakota people. The dust rising under the horses’ frisky feet settles peacefully onto those gathered in circle as if it were powdered holy water of the prairie laying down a blessing.
Reconciliation is generally thought to mean the restoration of friendly relations. But in this case, I and these Lakota were at best acquaintances with no shared experiences that typically forge friendships.
This Reconciliation ride isn't about me and him, but us and them. Reconciliation then becomes me bending my view of things so it is compatible with the guy's view sittin' across from me and trusting he is doing the same. Histories need to be compared, squared up and milked for truth. I don't believe any transformation can be forced, but instead settles placidly unnoticed like the settling dust kicked up by the horses circling in prayer.
Unlearning for me happens in informal conversation about why it's so hot out and if those clouds are going to unload on us before getting the tack off and the horses turned out for the night. Topics of substance get weaved in among the banter. Unlearning happens when I playfully tease another about an inconvenient mishap and consequently, somehow, subconsciously tease out a tolerance for an open mind that invites a challenge to what I long believed to be true. If I had to purposefully think about confronting my long held beliefs, this wouldn't be easy, because I must knowingly and courageously untangle a thicket of projections; my denying of messy things about myself that I attribute onto another. Things like "I'm not racist, he is." or "I'm not taking advantage and abusing a system set up in my favor, he is." I have noticed when I keep space and have conversation with someone whose life is a different story, layers start peeling back and unlearning begins. This takes courage and empathy, and sometimes those two things come when I'm waving a fly from my dinner with hands that need a better washing than they got, because when I look around I notice that everyone could've used more soap and water before dinner. In the community of dirty hands a lot of relearning begins. That grime on our mits has a common origin from a shared moment during the day.
Every day of The Ride begins with a circle to discuss the plan of the day. We know that prior planning prevents piss-poor performance. That's what old guys always told me when they were showing off their scars. The scars tell the truth, piss-poor planning makes better stories. As soon as the circle closes we get up from our chairs, pitch the plan and start reacting because the horses, trucks, and weather didn't join us at morning circle to get the plan. The ensuing chaos brings out a common purpose and unified cooperation. Holding onto any projections doesn't work when two of us are wrestling with a shared purpose of getting down the road and a horse, a piece of tack or a truck has set upon itself to not cooperate, as those things are known to do. Wiping the sweat from my brow, another layer is peeled back and some more relearning is happening.
It takes seven and a half hours to drive from my house in Colorado Springs to the Pine Ridge Reservation, if I'm pouring on the cobs, trusting the fuel gauge and stretching my bladder. It takes weeks on horseback or in a support vehicle rolling along tediously behind horses that have abandoned all sense of urgency. In these weeks, whether I was on horseback, sitting in the cab of a pick-up truck or grinding the grit in my teeth from the dust that settled onto my food, I was in sacred space hearing the story, feeling the hurt, laughing at the silly tomfoolery of the day and basking in the satisfaction of working through a misshap or troublesome event with a friend.
In the relearning, I learn that under each layer is much more to learn. There is a fellowship that evolves during the unlearning and relearning process of the Ride, and a common truth starts to fade in as the dust settles, forming a new and different layer of learning.”
Rob - 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018 and 2019 LakotaRider and Supporter (and current Board President) “Before the T-shirts (and sometimes hats) and even before it was called something, my wife asked me to go out to Colorado to ride horses with this guy from Denver, and some Lakota relatives to raise awareness around a non profit called the Tipi Raisers and it’s work. We planned to meet up with them on a small parking lot off of Hwy 93 heading into boulder. When Ashley and I got there I met Dave and his daughter, Sierra for the first time. I asked where we would be meeting all of the others. I found out we were then headed to pick up the horses but that we, in fact, were the entirety of the ride at that point.
It was the first year of what would become the Lakota Ride. I was expecting to join a cross-state ride with a group riding from Breckenridge, CO to Pine Ridge, SD but by the time we joined the group had dwindled to Dave and Sierra and they would be stopping in boulder that year. Any disappointment soon evaporated as I was on horseback riding through the front range and getting to know the first two of all the incredible people I would eventually meet. I would spend the next three days with a budding organization that I would grow to love and join… and eventually as a board member.
The rides today are still rough and tumble (thankfully) but they have grown immensely from those humble beginnings. They are filled with people from many walks of life and I am so grateful for their stories. You find yourself hungry, tired and thirsty while you are bringing water to the horses at the end of the day, but you also know that someone is working on a meal for you and that when you wake in the morning Dave has already made the first pot of coffee. On the ride you can spend too much time on a hot roadside in a support vehicle and also spend a glorious afternoon in the hills before a rainstorm pops up and it is just you, your LakotaRide family and your four legged relatives seeking shelter. For me, rides are filled with spirit and relationship that can be hard to come by in our busy world. Each year that I have been out, I question why I am disrupting my schedule and packing my sleeping bag to fly west. A ride with the Tipi Raisers is hard work and takes patience . . . your mind cannot be anywhere else and you wouldn't want to be anywhere else in the world at that point. That, at least, is the way it is for me.
This summer I didn’t get any rope burns or have to pitch a tent in a ranchers field, but I also didn’t get to circle every morning and evening with my friends and relatives to work toward reconciliation. I miss it immensely.
