Riverside RV Park and Zoo, Scottsbluff, Nebraska: September 14 – 21, 2016

As usual on a travel day, we were up and ready to roll by daylight and the sunrise started our day with beauty – a good argument for getting up early. We traveled miles and miles without seeing a single vehicle and the scenery was amazing. More broad expanses of pastureland pocked with hidden arroyos,creeks, and occasionally a huge promontory in the distance. I wonder if Indians or mountain men climbed it to survey the area? Imagine crossing this country on foot – these promontories gave the early travelers landmarks to help guide their way. I can't imagine – I get lost using GPS! 

There are many things I love about traveling like this, but the big one is never knowing what you'll see in the next minute or hour. This drive was no disappointment although the campground was. As we have found with many county campgrounds that claim to be an rv park, the Riverside RV Park was dismal – few trees, a few Rvs, and lots of sand with little shade. It was only about 10% occupied and of those, most appeared to be long-term residents. There was an added surprise, however, the county zoo was adjacent to the RV park and we were treated to a bored lion's roar throughout the day. The zoo was as dismal as the RV park and although we didn't go through it, the animals didn't seem to have much in their areas to pique their interest. Sad. We decided to stay because it was near Scotts Bluff National National Monument, and as you've no doubt noticed, we enjoy historical sites and I especially like those dedicated to the settlement of the West.

I had read about Scotts Bluff as a landmark for the emigrants in covered wagons headed west, but that is just the tip of the story. The first humans ventured out onto the High Plains ten thousand years ago. Prior to that, it was all part of the area that was a huge, shallow, inland sea which was displaced when the Rocky Mountains were formed, and fossilized bones of rhinos, camels, giant hogs, and huge turtles have been found in the area. The park visitor's center is packed with wonderful artifacts and information and the rangers there were most informative, as is almost always the case. The emigrants on the Oregon Trail would have traveled nearly 6,000 miles by the time they reached Scotts Bluff – one of the landmarks they undoubtedly looked forward to. By this time, they would have become hardened to the 15 or so miles of walking a day, and making and breaking camp. Here they could rest in the shelter of the bluffs, mend clothes, tack, and wagons, and prepare for the next 1,500 or so miles.

We drove to the top of the bluff one morning and from there, could see Chimney Rock, just 23 miles east. We drove there that afternoon in 29 minutes – it would have taken the emigrants two days. Chimney Rock, while an arresting sight, was far less impressive than Scotts Bluff although the visitor's center had a huge quantity of books, displays, and other information. The first sign we came upon warned us of rattlesnakes, but it got better after that.

There were many excerpts from journals and diarys kept by emigrants; here are a few I found interesting:

“The Daily Routine

Our system of travel is thus: The whole encampment is roused by the sound of a trumpet at or before sunrise. Breakfast, which hitherto has consisted of bread, fried bacon, and coffee, is prepared and discussed as soon as possible, usually by six o'clock, when the morning cattle-guard is summoned to drive the oxen into the corral prepratory to 'catching up' or yoking. This occupies an hour or more, and at seven or half-past seven, our march commences. "Between 12 o'clock and one o'clock the train is halted in rhe road for the oxen to breathe. There is a delay of an hour, during which each person partakes of such refreshment as has been provided before leaving camp in the morning. The march is then resumed, and continued according to circumstances in reference to grass, water, and wood until 5 or 6 o'clock in the afternoon, when our corral is formed, our tents pitched, and our evening meal provided. "

Edwin Bryant, 1846

“These Platte Sioux are the best Indians on the prairies. Look at their conduct during the past summer. Of the vast emigration, which rolled through their country this year, not a person was molested, not an article stolen. Such good conduct deserves reward."

"Nebraska," writing to a St. Louis newspaper, 1849

We had an empty cracker box which we made answer for a coffin, dug a grave in the middle of the road and deposited the dead child therein... We filled the grave with stones and dirt, and when we rolled out drove over it. Perhaps we had cheated the wolf by doing so – perhaps not. John Clark, who in 1852 six days from St Joseph helped bury a child.”

“After getting into the [North Platte] valley we found two large towns of Indians who met us in great numbers and were very friendly. We camped between those two villages of red men. And immediately on getting into camp we were visited by some three hundred Indians with Whirlwind at their head who presented us with his papers stating that he was friendly and was the emigrants' friend. We felt pretty safe here..."

Walter Pigman, 1850

“More emigrants along the Platte Valley shot and killed one another (most accidentally) than were killed by natives. Indians almost never attacked encircled wagon trains as popularized by movies and on television.”

Graves of at least 20,000 victims littered the trail, with at least twenty named individuals buried in the Chimney Rock area. Many fatalities came from the deadly killer Asiatic cholera. Most accounts blamed ill health on bad water; at the time people were unaware of the dangerous microorganisms thriving in it."

Many other heartbreaking and heartwarming stories were, told within the visitor's center. I can't imagine embarking on such a journey. I can only think that life must have been even more difficult back East, but I have read about families who, once arrived in Oregon, turned around and returned.

While we were happy to leave the campground, but the visit to Scotts Bluff was a special stop.

Now we're on to Alma, Nebraska.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Devils Tower, Wyoming; September 9-14, 2015

We had heard about Devils Tower from several folks so took the opportunity to check it out on our way south, since the campgrounds in the Dakota's were closing down for the winter. The drive from Prune Lake down to Devils Tower was even quieter than usual in Wyoming – we went 20 minutes at times without seeing another vehicle! Lots of pronghorns and beautiful country, though.

Our first glimpse of the tower was miles away from the park, but it was eye-catching none-the-less. We played hide-and-seek with it for an hour before we got to the park entrance and once we were at the visitor center, it was almost too large to take in. 

200 million years ago, the landscape was very different. Shallow seas came and went, each depositing large amounts of silt and sand. Over time, this was compressed and hardened into sandstone and siltstone. Fast forward to 50 million years ago when Magma was injected into layers of sedimentary rock, forming the Tower beneath the earth's surface. Millions of years of erosion have stripped away one and one-half miles of the softer rock and sediment to bare the Tower as we see it today. The igneous rock left behind is called phonolite, which is found in Northeast Wyoming and central

Montana, but mostly in east Africa. As you can see in some of the photos, much of the original Tower has broken off and tumbled down around its base.

The symmetrical columns that make up the Devils Tower are the tallest (some more than 600 feet) and widest (ten to twenty feet) in the world. As the magma cooled (remember, it's a mile and a half underground) and solidified, stress points formed throughout. In order to release the pressure, the rock began to crack. These cracks grew outward from each stress point in three directions at 120 angles. The cracks continued to grow outward and downward, eventually intersecting with other cracks to form columns. The cracks tend to make six-sided columns – nature's tightest and strongest fit, although some columns have four, five, and seven sides.

The Tower and Black Hills area have been a gathering place for native people for 10,000 years. The Arapaho, Cheyenne, Crow, Kiowa, Lakota, and Shoshone have developed cultural and spiritual connections with the Tower and they continue to pass on those beliefs today. The Kiowa people tell of eight children – seven sisters and their brother – who were playing in the forest when suddenly the boy was struck dumb, and turned into a bear. He chased his sisters and they ran. When they came to the stump of a giant tree, the tree told them to climb upon the stump. As they did, the stump began to rise, taking the girls beyond the reach of the bear. The bear rose against the tree and scored its bark all around with its claws. The sisters were born into the sky where they became the stars in the constellation Pleiades.

Vast bison herds once wandered the valley near the Tower. As the buffalo were hunted to near extinction, the habitat changed to ranchland. Cowboys drove wild cattle from West Texas and New Mexico into this area where cattle ranching continues to be a primary industry.

Two local ranchers first climbed the Tower in 1893 using a wooden stake ladder, two years later the wife of one of the ranchers made the climb. Over the next 30 years, as many as 200 climbs were made using the wooden ladder. In 1937, a three-man team made the first ascent using modern climbing techniques. In 1941 a man parachuted to the summit just to prove he could hit the impossible. His planning wasn't as good as his parachuting skills, as he was stuck for six days before being rescued by a party of technical rock climbers. The Tower is still a popular destination for rock climbers – there must have been a half-dozen climbing groups each day we were there. Scared me half to death! Many Northern Plains Indian tribes view the area as sacred and oppose climbing on the Tower. Tribal representatives have often compared climbing the Tower to dishonoring a place of worship. There is a voluntary climbing closure in June out of respect for American Indian beliefs, which most but not all climbers observe.

And yes, it should be Devil's rather than Devils, but due to a typo when the proclamation establishing Devils Tower was published, the apostrophe was left out and the clerical error was never officially corrected.

Just outside the campground is The Circle of Sacred Smoke, a sculpture by Japanese artist Junkyu Muto, whose sculptures are in spiritually significant locations throughout the world, including Vatican City.

We took a day trip into Gillette, the nearest town (but still an hour and a half away) and while there, visited the Rockpile Museum and an overlook at the Eagle Butte Mine. The museum was a gem and well worth a few hours and a generous donation. The mine produces low-sulphur coal which is shipped by train to power plants throughout the West, Midwest, and South United States. This is the plant that produces the coal we saw while we were camped at Guernsey back in May of this year.

We had planned on heading over to South Dakota from here, but we've tarried too long in Wyoming and the parks are all closing for the season, so will head south and stay a week in Scotts Bluff, Nebraska, which was near a stopping point on the Oregon Trail.