Wonders await us in the Shooting Star Saloon, a good place to refresh at the end of a long day.

Whoa! What's that on the wall above the bashful hamburger-eaters?
It's a stuffed head, but can that be a dog? The light's not too good, so...

...a flash picture helps, and it IS a dog, a St. Bernard.
The story is it was the 300-pound beloved pet of the saloon's owner.
I think I've seen everything now.

Here's Carol. She's worked the bar for 35 years,
and it looks like she's got the job down pat—these guys are happy customers.

What's to eat in the Shooting Star Saloon? Burgers. Some chips.
That's it, burgers and chips (and beer), but they're the best hamburgers west of at least the Mississippi.

See for yourself - have you ever seen anyone love a hamburger with more relish?

OK, here's a lesson to be learned: these are locals. Most of them are wearing watch caps and gimme hats.
See what they're doing? They're sitting around a big table talking and laughing
and enjoying each other's company.

These are NOT locals. They're tourists. You can tell because none of them are
wearing watch caps or gimme hats, and they're NOT sitting down enjoying each other's company.
They're fidgety, wandering around taking pictures of things.

She's taking a picture of a guy holding a beer to the lips of a moose head on the wall. Go figure.

	This guy's taking pictures of the ceiling. What's the point?		Dollar bills with names and stuff written on them, markers of people who have been there over the years. And the saloon's been there since 1879.

This guy is a tourist trying to masquerade as a professional photographer.
It looks like he's shooting something, uh, artistic.

Uh oh, he got something started. Everyone wants to be an artistic photographer.

It's obviously a very artistic subject.

OK, this is pushing things too far. I can't hang with this crowd so I'm outta here.

But first, a last admiring look at what must have been a most magnificent St. Bernard.

A nighttime farewell to the Shooting Star.