Editor's Note: Lita Mathews was raised in northern New Mexico and has been following the powwow trail as a dancer since 1984. In the summer of 1993, Mathews kept a daily journal of her 20,000-mile, 10-week odyssey with her husband, Derek, and daughter, Melonie, as they participated in powwows from New Mexico and Colorado to Ontario, Canada. The following entries are excerpted, with minor editing, from her book based on that summer's travel, A Powwow Summer Across North America (Gathering of Nations Publishing, 2000; 192 pages with black-and-white-photos; $12.95; also available in audio CD format). It can be ordered online at www.gatheringofnations.com, by calling 505/836-2810, or by writing to 3301 Coors Road NW, R-300, Albuquerque, NM 87120. Lita and Derek also launched and run-with Melonie--the annual Gathering of Nations powwow in Albuquerque, where they reside.

Albuquerque, New Mexico
This time of year-late spring-is special as we pack our truck and head out; we plan to cover a lot of ground. For the next four days, we are headed north out of Albuquerque through Colorado, Wyoming, Montana and Idaho, and plan to end up in Yakima, Washington, to attend the Tiinowit Powwow. It is always difficult leaving home. I try to remember every little detail in preparation, as we will be away for three months. There is an art to packing, one that requires skill and patience. Our luggage for our dance regalia alone must resemble that of the Queen of England when she travels.

Near Yakima, Washington
It has been two days since I have written. I guess it took that long for me to digest the outcome of the Tiinowit Powwow-two goose eggs-our team lost. It is not a good feeling. Melonie and I danced hard all weekend. My body was sore from the pounding it took from the three days of dancing on the cement of the Yakima Sun Dome. The last session of the powwow on Sunday night was the real test, and I messed up. I had danced in place (stationary) when I should have gone around. I do not know what I was thinking. The master of ceremonies had given us the rundown on what style of dance was appropriate for each song, and I had failed to pay attention. I was so upset I wanted to hide. Overall the powwow was a letdown. That happens sometimes. We just have to regroup and prepare for the next contest.

Rousseau River, Manitoba
Derek and I have been watching a familiar scene; I call it a "powwow ritual." This ritual is the hair-washing that takes place under a spout of water. In rural communities like this one (Rousseau River Powwow, Manitoba, Canada), a water truck or water tank is set up. Everyone at a powwow uses the water in the tanks for everything from drinking to washing hair. Girls walk over to the tank with their shampoo bottles and towels, place their heads under the spout and wash their long, dark hair. Then the young ladies wrap towels circling their hair and walk away. All sorts of interesting characters-couples, singles, families, young and sometimes old-stand in line waiting their turn at the water. Yesterday, the tank was first attacked by a group of five or six kids who wanted to get wet any way they could. They started by turning the valve to get a drink. Seconds later, one boy climbed onto the top of the tank and tried to get in. The boys moved away, only to be followed by an older woman carrying a large water jug. The woman turned up selling hot coffee later that night! I am glad we did not forget to buy bottled water.

Hinkley, Minnesota
By the time we left the powwow campground last night it was after 1 a.m., and by 6:30 a.m. I was experiencing what Melonie calls a "powwow hangover." The Hinkley powwow is different from the others we have participated in over the past few weeks. Melonie labeled it a "money dog" powwow that attracts certain types of dancers, or "powwow dogs." That does not sound very nice, but a "powwow dog" is a professional dancer or person who considers himself or herself to be a serious competitor. (For them) competition is the name of the game, and the stress factor builds at every session. Everyone likes to win, or to be paid. All 325 dancers here at Hinkley want to do exactly that-win.

Namirind Powwow, London, Ontario
Powwows in Ontario are visibly different from most in the West. The arbor, for instance, is located in the center of the arena. All of the drum groups are set in the middle and not along the outer circle. The announcer is also in the center arbor, but from what I can see, he has no place to sit down. At this powwow, there is also a sacred fire that burns throughout the entire weekend. The fire is ignited before the people arrive and burns day and night until everyone has left. The fire is supposed to keep bad and evil away. This past week, I felt the need to smoke my outfits in order to rid myself of the bad feelings and vibrations from last weekend at Hinkley, so I made a special point to walk past the fire.

The visitors, Native and non-Native, were an interesting bunch. I have never understood why, for them, "going Native" means taking off some of their clothes and being barefoot. There was a young couple dancing around during the intertribal songs; both were barefoot and wearing only swimming attire. All sorts of people exposed their big bellies this weekend-men and women uncovered those big, beastly bellies. They rubbed them, sunned them and aired them. Fat bellies were everywhere.

The first contest session for adults was held Saturday evening. It was blazing hot! The temperature was in the upper 90s and the humidity had to be over 100 percent. Dancing under such conditions can be miserable. I was reminded of an experience in Window Rock, Arizona. One year a traditional dancer from Warm Springs, Oregon, died at the powwow from a heart attack induced by the heat. And on another occasion, while we were dancing at Six Nations, a powwow near Toronto, dancers were passing out from heat exhaustion.

Walpole Island, Ontario
We arrived at Walpole Island, Ontario, in the mid-afternoon. The drive from Niagara Falls was uneventful. Derek took his time driving, as he was a little weary. I know Melonie and I were. We have spent the last six days camping out, and although we love our truck, it was really good to know that soon we would stretch out at the Chimney Motel. Camping has been hard on the body but good for the soul. We have learned to appreciate a clean room and a comfortable bed. The room offered us some space, but more importantly, a sanctuary from the mosquitoes. They had swarmed around us so badly we almost inhaled them. As soon as we checked in, we took everything out of the truck and sprayed the various compartments. All three of us were bitten so badly on our arms, legs, hands, feet and faces that we looked as if we had a case of the chicken pox.

I am tired and I've noticed we are eating more and more junk food. Whenever we stop for gas we stock up on candy bars, chips and pop. I believe we have eaten at about every McDonald's between Walpole Island and home, and I am sick of fast food.

Six Nations Reserve,
Oshweken, Ontario
Sunday was a crazy day. It started out with the sun shining and ended with a pouring rain. The night ended with everyone just trying to stay out of the rain, which had turned everything uncomfortably soggy. For me, things took a turn for the worse. In all of my stress and the utter chaos, I broke my eyeglasses while climbing into the back of our truck to change out of my dance outfit. I went to sleep soon after that, saying to myself, "Just one more day."

By the time the Ladies Traditional came up, I was a little nervous. Derek calmed me down before I walked over to my starting position. I tried to focus on the drum beat. The host drum, led by Kenny Scabbyrobe of the Black Lodge Singers, gave us our first song, a round dance. I immediately relaxed and enjoyed the special song, and I danced well. My second song was a traditional. I danced my stationary style. When the song started, I looked over to one of my competitors. Her dancing style has a double bounce. I started on her beat and immediately knew that I had made a terrible mistake. Her rhythm threw me off my beat and I could not recover. My only consolation was knowing that my round dance had been the best one I had danced all summer.

Tulsa, Oklahoma
The session Sunday turned out to be even longer than Saturday. The announcer continued to drag through countless activities until way past midnight. After a few handshakes, we left the Tulsa Expo Center and headed back to the motel for a few hours of sleep. Even though it was 2 a.m. when our lights turned off, we wasted no time the next morning getting up and on the road. We were on our way HOME!