The battle of Little Big Horn

Indians knew, it wont work to put everything into an economic frame.

“We cannot sell this land. It was put here for us by the Great Spirit and we cannot sell it because it does not belong to us… As long as the sun shines and the waters flow, this land will be here to give life to people and animals.”

Paradoxically Mastercard, incarnation of all consumer whores, advertises itself with the slogan "There is some things money can´t buy". For example high quality outdoor stuff. Of course you can buy it with money, but not with the kind of money i have. So for a couple of days I am looking for good bargains, they call it "utsala" here in Iceland. This shopping-marathon has the name "Operation Winter". May the assault begin.

In honor of our indian ancients, and the wise story they told us, I will call the actual advance of Operation Winter "the Battle of Little Big Horn". Fought in 1876 it was one of the biggest victories of the Indians against the white invaders. It was Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse, whose men killed General Custer in the shadow of the black hills of Montana. 

 I cannot guarantee for geographical accuracy, but like Sitting Bull I was advancing from the West. Over the hill of Perlan I crossed Kringlanriver to enter Skeifan-Territory. Skeifan is a mighty tribe, who sell a lot of stuff; firewater, sportbows and outdoor stuff. The old chief of smoky bay Crazy Gnarr as well respects their honesty and ability to guidance. So to come to an point. The battle was glourious, the victory was mine, and I bought some new, fucking nice hiking boots (Iceland here I come again), a softshell windstopper and a 66° North hat. 

But as always in big battles there were losses as well. Or at least victories, which I still have to wait for. The gloves are at no way appropiate for winter trips. The rain jacket as a hole in the back. And I guess the long underwear still has some problems in an asthetical point of view.So the battle might be won, but the war ain´t over yet.