Yesterday, while stopped at an overlook on the Beartooth Highway in Montana, I saw some travelers that I was pretty sure were from the one of the southern states.
Their accents were what first got my attention. They were looking though binoculars and yucking it up over some of the scenery they saw far below. There was four of them, probably in their late twenties or early thirties.
They sounded like a bunch of southern good ol’ boys — from some southern mountains or backwoods.
One of them wore a gray cap with a very distinctive shape.
It wasn’t a ball cap. It was the type of cap that was worn 145 years ago and generally came in two colors — blue or gray.
We got back to the parking lot before them and I saw a vehicle that just had to be theirs. It was a Chevy Suburban and had a trailer loaded with four dirt bikes — four good ol’ boys, four dirt bikes.
It just had to be theirs and it had to be from the south.
The rear license plate said Tennessee.
The plate on the front bumper was the Stars and Bars — the flag that today is perceived to have been the flag of the Confederate States of America. It never was ( see Flags of the Confederate States of America).
Perception is reality.
I don’t know who these guys were or what they were really like. They were probably just a bunch of good ol’ boys.
I didn’t really care to find out.
The gray cap and the confederate flag said all I needed to know.
Perception is reality.
