One of the better stories from the Fremont Bicentennial book is how Rawhide Creek got its name.
In the early 1850s a “Dandy” from the east coast joined a party in Omaha that was headed west to seek their fortunes in gold. A real hot shot, he had promised to “shoot the first Indian I see.” As the party was camped near the present day site of the creek a poor old Indian woman came to beg, as was generally accepted custom.
The Dandy took the opportunity to make good on his evil vow and shot her dead.
The party of adventurers numbered around 150. They were soon surrounded by a group of Indians numbering close to 400. Either bring forth the dandy or the whole party gets a haircut. So the dandy was turned over and tied to a tree next to the creek. He was then flayed, or skinned alive. Crosshatching the entire surface of his body they followed by removing each square of flesh. The dandy lasted a few hours, his tale lives yet today.
Rawhide Creek. Aptly named.
We will have three mates (Jerrod, Kyle, Stacy) racing Novartis tomorrow morning. Should be a perfect morning, wishing everyone good luck, great racing, and Giddyup!
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