"I followed the rodeo circuit, but I wasn’t too interested in competing as a rider, It was just an excuse to travel to different reservations. My life was changed and I myself was changing. I hardly recognized myself anymore. I was a wanderer, a hippie Indian. I knew nothing then. Right or wrong were just words. My life was a find-out. If somebody said, ‘That’s bad,’ I still wanted to experience it. Maybe it would turn out to be good. I wasn’t drinking then, but soon would be. My horses and cows were gone. Instead I was the owner of a half-dozen wrecked jalopies. Yet I felt the spirits. Always at night they came down to me. I could hear them, something like the whistling from the hearing aid that I am wearing now. I could feel their touch like a feather on a sore spot."
Lame Deer, Hard Times in Sioux County