Wyoming Travels

 

It is mid November and we are setting out for a ramble around some of Wyoming.  Camp grounds are mostly closed by this time of year, so we will be staying at motels and eating dinners at restaurants.  Morrison’s gas mileage should be better since we will be carrying a lot less gear.

 

We left on a Thursday morning.  Cheyenne, WY is only 40 miles due north of Greeley, so it didn’t take long to get away from commercial highway businesses and shopping malls and into the rolling, treeless hills of southern Wyoming.  The wind was stronger than the weather report had indicated, so Dave was fighting the southwestern wind a bit as we traveled west.  The peaks of the Rockies were visible to the South.  As we went further, past  Laramie, we began driving through the Snowy Mountain Range, which is at high altitude, but flows more smoothly than the Rockies.   We were on I-80, covering the same territory we had passed in September when we drove to California.  In late September the trees in the hillside valleys were turning to yellow and orange and the grass was still green.  By November the grass had turned brown and the trees had lost all their leaves and there were small patches of melting snow.  It was wonderful to experience the change from Fall to an almost Winter landscape.  At Rawlins, we turned North and drove toward Casper.  We were headed for Independence Rock on the Oregon Trail, where in the mid to late 1800s many, many travelers on the trail paused to add their name and date to the rock.  Some carved their names into the granite, others wrote with tar or axle grease.  Dave and his Dad visited Independence Rock in the summer of 1971.  He said he clambered around on it some and saw many names and dates all over, lots of them were black, presumably tar.  When we walked out to the rock from the parking area, we crossed over a small bridge.  Underneath was a swale worn into the land by the passage of thousands of wagons.  The bridge was there to preserve the swale.  Independence Rock is quite large.  No way we were going to climb up on it like 17 year old Dave did.  But we did hike the trail all the way around it, which measured 1.7 miles on my phone app.  As we walked we searched for names and dates, but found very few. The rock was overgrown with lichen that covered the old carvings, and the black markings Dave had seen were no longer visible.  Fifty-three years of weathering had made a difference.  We did find some names and dates near the bottom of the rock on the South side where less lichen had grown.  Five miles away, south of Independence Rock, was a gap in the mountains called Devil’s Gate.  It was clearly visible to us from the road.  I believe the gap was cut by the Sweetwater River.  The Oregon Trail did not go through the gap, but it was a major landmark on the trail, just as Independence Rock was.

After hiking around the rock, we went on to Casper, WY and spent the night.  We had a nice dinner at The Silver Fox restaurant.  We’ve learned that many restaurants in the Midwest close by 8 pm, so early dining is the way to go.

 

The next day, we had a worse than usual breakfast at the hotel before setting off northeast toward Gillette, WY.  I’ve gotten pretty proficient at operating those flip-over waffle makers that so many hotels use now.  That was the ONLY hot item they had there, though, and the coffee machine was empty.  I asked the lady to make more coffee and later when she told me it was ready, I dispensed a cup of hot water that wasn’t even as dark as tea.  I left it behind and got coffee at McDonalds.

 

Back on the road, we drove north, then east through Gillette, WY.  Leaving the interstate, we drove north again to Devil’s Tower National Monument.  By now we were on the western edge of the Black Hills, climbing into a pine tree covered landscape.  The day was mild and sunny with only a light breeze.  Our first glimpses of Devil’s Tower were so exciting.  As the road wound about with switchback turns, the tower was occasionally seen thrusting upward, completely solitary, vertical columns encircling its entirety.  The name Devil’s Tower is considered disrespectful by Native Americans.  They call the phenomenon “Bear Lodge”.  We arrived in early afternoon and started our hike up to and around the base of the tower.  There are several trails that can be taken.  We took the “Tower Trail”, which was paved and went around the base of the tower.  The distance was 2 miles.  All along the trail, Native Americans have tied prayer bundles and prayer flags to tree branches.  It gives you a sense of reverence as you walk among them.  One must not touch the bundles, or else cause bad things to happen to those who tied the bundle.  It is also preferred that one not photograph the bundles out of respect for the Native people who come each June to this sacred place to perform ceremonies and add prayer bundles.   Approaching from the parking lot on the North, the path twists and climbs through the rock field.  There are innumerable boulders of many sizes surrounding the tower, having fallen from it over time.  The trail was a minor workout with ups and downs in elevation, but overall it  was a pleasant and easy hike.  On the Western side, the sun warmed the rocks and the air.  The setting was intensely soothing, yet also felt slightly dangerous—a few yards over from the trail, the cliff edge existed.  The trail then moved to the Southern face and the breeze hit us and the warmth disappeared.  Looking away from the tower, a huge valley, river winding through it, was spread all around.  A spectacular view that needed time to be appreciated.  It was really something. Looking at the tower, though, you could appreciate spectacular in a different way.  There were two pair of rock climbers up on the tower face.  One pair on the Northwest  side and the other pair on the South side.  Parts of the vertical rock columns have broken off and fallen over time.  Climbers creep up the vertical cervices and then stop to rest on the platforms created by the broken off columns.  They looked so tiny up there, but their voices carried out to us.  Awe inspiring, but I would never be enticed to try such an activity.   As we continued around the South side, lots more and larger fallen rocks were apparent.  Some of the larger portions of rock had the hexagonal shape of the vertical columns.  As we reached the East side, we found more and more fallen rocks as well as many, many fallen trees.  The trees were good sized and had broken off about 4 feet or so from their base.  They had all fallen in the same direction.  It didn’t appear as though the falling rocks had struck them, but that perhaps a powerful wind had blown them over.  Not sure what really happened, but the broken wood was not overly weathered, so it had not happened too long ago.  As we got around to the North side again, the climbers on that rock face were shouting to each other.  One of the pair had made it to the top of the tower (which I understand covers about 1 1/2 acres), but the second climber was calling for help.  He said he was stuck and that his ropes were all tangled up.  This caused a lot of concern for everyone below.  We could see the climber who was in trouble.  The person above didn’t seem to have anything to assist him with.  By the time we made it back down to the van and got out the binoculars (which we had forgotten to take with us) he had gotten untangled and was proceeding to the top.  Everyone was relieved.

This hike was the highlight of our trip. We’ll remember it for a long time.

After leaving the tower we decided to drive further into the Black Hills to Rapid City, South Dakota, to spend the night.  Mt. Rushmore is located only about 24 miles from there.  The Black Hills are amazing, so lovely.  No wonder the Native Peoples consider them sacred.  Rapid City was a hidden gem.  If any part of South Dakota is “liberal”, it would be here.  The town is hilly and hosts a university.  We had a yummy meal at an upscale Italian restaurant.  This time we stayed at a Comfort Inn and the breakfast was sooo much better than the day before.   We left early and headed for Mt. Rushmore.  Again, driving through the Black Hills was very beautiful.  We passed a large big horn sheep buck standing in the trees just off the road.  He was huge!!  Never saw any other sheep, but did see a few deer, including two young fawns munching something on the side of the road.  They were very close and looked at us curiously, but did not run away.

For miles outside of Rapid City the tourist-aimed commercialism was unmistakable.  Tons of mini golf places and some kind of children’s zoo attraction that featured bears.   It seemed pretty intimidating with all the fortifications designed to keep distance between the people and the bears.  In the last little town before Mt. Rushmore, called Keystone, the entire place is a tourist Mecca with fancy spa hotels, a plethora of souvenir shops along a western boom town motif boardwalk, and candy stores galore, all closed up because it was November, not tourist season.  I could imagine that the place  teems with people in the summer.  A little further along a winding road, here and there were glimpses of Mt. Rushmore.  The carving of George Washington seemed larger than the others, but perhaps that was.just the perspective from the road.  The carvings are quite high up on a mountainside, so the road winds around, always going higher until you are almost at the same elevation as the carvings.  To walk in and view the monument is free, but parking costs $10.  They have a lot of parking garages, and a fancy exterior with lots of steps leading up to a wide bridge-like walkway lined with flags from every state.  At the end of the walkway is the carved mountainside.  From that plaza you can look over a barrier wall at the carvings and take any manner of selfies, which is what everyone was doing, but you cannot go any closer.  There is a restaurant, a gift store, and a big display about the artist who did the work.  This entire display is obviously a monument to the United States of America.  The fact that it occurs on sacred Lakota land was upsetting to me.  There was one small display, off to one side before one reaches the avenue of flags, dedicated to the sacredness of the Black Hills and the Lakota view of the area.  In my opinion, it was not enough.  Many could come to Mt. Rushmore and leave again having no idea of the role the area had played in the Lakota Nation.

 

After Mt. Rushmore, we headed for home.  Coming out of the Black Hills, you could see the flatness of the rest of South Dakota in the distance.  Once we were out of the wooded hills, the wind caught us again and it was a bit of a struggle until we were out of Wyoming and back into Colorado where the wind was much less.

We enjoyed taking this time to appreciate more of Wyoming and to see things and places that we had heard of all our lives but had never seen.