Day #7    Robert Leverett    Sep 08, 2006 10:41 PDT  ENTS, Day #7 We arose fairly late on day #7 of our journey. To recap the end of Day #6, we ended up in the little town of Buffalo, located in north-central Wyoming. So I'll begin by giving a little information about it. Buffalo is a former cattle town that is especially rich in western cowboy and Indian lore. It is the site of the famous Johnson County cattle war. Many charismatic western figures passed through Buffalo. Spots of interest nearby include Fort Phil Kearney, the Fetterman's Massacre Site, the Wagon Box Fight, and the "Hole in the Wall" hideout of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. The Jim Gatchell Museum displays many artifacts of the area. The town, itself, sits at 4,650 feet altitude and is positioned on the eastern side of the Bighorn Mountains. Downtown Buffalo has undergone a lot of renovation over the last few decades. It is almost shishi. Day #7 was crystal clear and it was apparent that it was going to be a warm one. Summer heat is not unusual for the June-August period in Buffalo. July averages 70 degrees and the temperature has been as high as 106. Fortunately, it is a dry heat. Buffalo averages about 18 inches of precipitation per year. However, as with most of Wyoming, the summer nights usually cool off. It it can get hot in the summer in Buffalo, it can get cold in the winter, though not Minnesota cold. And it is nowhere near as cold as the high country just to the west. Buffalos lowest recorded temperature is 36 below zero. That’s cold enough, but 30 degrees warmer than Wyoming’s all time low. We were contemplating camping in the Bighorns that evening, but first we needed to fuel up. We found an open-air restaurant on the main street of Buffalo. It was quaint. After a pretty good breakfast, we stopped into look at the nearby and very historic Occidental Hotel with its roster of famous western characters. It served as a setting in Owen Wister’s “Virginian” The décor in the hotel was about as genuinely authentic western as you can get. The place is very impressive. We both could have stayed longer, but we had to make tracks. From Buffalo, U.S. 16 climbs rapidly up through sedimentary strata into the Bighorn Mountains by initially following a stream that cuts through a series of elongated ridges, basically the eastern foothills. After a brief, steep climb, the altitude gain becomes more gradual and the grass-covered ridges are noted for their exhibition of large meadows of flowers that bloom in late June and early July. Lupine is to be seen everywhere at that time of year. The extensive grasslands are broken by occasional stands of aspen that provide an aesthetic vegetative texture to the covering of the ridges. As we approached the altitude of 7,000 feet, I became more conscious that we were nearing the high country of the Bighorns. We were getting close to the boundary of the 189,000-acre Cloud Peak Wilderness Area. It began life as the Cloud Peak Primitive Area, gained acreage and became the Cloud Peak Wilderness Area and then gained additional acreage. In my not so humble opinion, the Wilderness Area should be expanded by another 50,000 acres for reasons I won’t go into here. Along U.S. 16, the geological formations are identified by the roadside signs. As the basement rock formations are approached, the ages go farther and farther backward into time. Some of the rocks are Precambrian, dating back to over three billion years. The oldest listed that I saw have been dated to around 3.5-billion years. An added fact about the rocks of the Bighorns is that, unlike other Wyoming ranges, the Bighorns have thrust faults on both their eastern and western sides. So they appear as a great wall as one approaches from either the east or the west, and especially the west. The elevations of the Bighorn Basin near the western flanks of the Bighorns are 3,700 to 4,000 feet. The elevation change to the summit of Cloud Peak is on the order of 9,000 to 9,400 feet, which is comparable to what you see approaching Colorado’s Front Range from the east.     As you drive U.S. 16 across the Bighorns, you get to a point, turn a curve and suddenly across a region of broad, flat ridges with abundant meadows, you come face to face with the backbone of the Bighorns – the southern portion of the Bighorn high country. There is no equivalent road access in the highest part of the range, which is in the vicinity of Cloud Peak. The southern portion of the high country visible from U.S. 16 is dramatic. From 9,677-foot Powder River Pass the altitudes quickly build to over 11,000 feet and remain there all the way to Florence Pass, which dips to about 10,950 feet. The named peaks between Powder River and Florence Passes include Loaf Mountain (11,722), Bighorn Peak (12,324), Darton Peak (12,275) , and the Mather Peaks (12,348). These plus a few unnamed summits are the ones that dominate the view from U.S. 16. The sight is incredibly spectacular. I never tire of gazing into those granite walls. It is the view that caused me to instantly fall in love with the Bighorn alpine region the first time I saw it. As I gazed at it again, I found myself taking a brief trip down memory lane. For a few moments I was back on my first trip to the region, which was in the summer of 1965. I should explain that from late 1964 until 1968, I was stationed at Ellsworth AFB. Going to Ellsworth was quite a life change for this old southern mountain boy. However, the natural beauty of western South Dakota provided a link to the southern highlands. There were mountains – the Black Hills. Shortly after getting settled on the base, I began exploring the Hills and over the course of a year, I grew to love them. What soon became apparent was that they were very accessible mountains. They were compact and afforded me the opportunity to explore ever larger sections of them. But throughout the period of my Black Hills treks, I also wanted to see bigger stuff - snowcapped mountains that pierced the clouds. So, I frequently looked at maps of adjacent Wyoming and kept note that nearby U.S. 16 ran west from Rapid City across north-central Wyoming, slicing through the Bighorn Mountains and reaching a highpoint at Powder River Pass, which was listed as 9,666 feet (Powder River Pass’s altitude is now listed as 9,677 feet on topographical maps). The thought of visiting the area kept growing. The road map showed a summit named Cloud Peak that was listed as 13,165 feet (13,167 on the latest topographical map). A quick comparison and that was enough for me. The highest point in the Black Hills is Harney Peak at 7,242. feet, which less than a thousand feet higher than the tops of the Southern Appalachians. I went to the base library and looked up the Bighorns. According to one source, those mountains possessed textbook glacial cirques and had been featured in early geology texts as illustrating the action of ice on hard surfaces. Cliffs of stern gray granite were said to rise 1,000 to 1,500 feet above the string of glacial lakes that ringed the high country. With an abundance of cliffs and glacial lakes, I had to see those mountains. The issue was settled. So, a fellow lieutenant and I laid plans to go camping in the Bighorns in late June of 1965. The distance from Ellsworth of the Bighorns was about 220 miles. That was manageable for us over a long weekend. So, at our first opportunity, we packed our equipment and away we went. Once at Powder River Pass, we climbed the mountains above the pass and from one summit shown of the maps as 10,493 feet high, I gazed longingly into the Cloud Peak Wilderness Area. That began a love affair that I have had with those mountains ever since. From the meandering road, Monica and I approached the Powder River Pass and it was there that I shared a dream of mine with her. There are three peaks south of the Pass that reach to between 10,000 and 10,550 feet, Hesse, Hazelton, and Hazelton Pyramid. Their bases all lie at about 9,000, so the gain in altitude to their summits is modest, but they are all rugged with talus slopes and some cliff regions. Their tops rise above timberline by about 500 vertical feet, which is between 9,700 and 10,000 feet in that area. I have long wanted to climb those southern peaks, but on this trip I wasn’t in good enough shape to attempt it. So looking at their tempting forms, I set the goal of climbing Hesse Peak, the nearest, for the summer of 2007. However, on this trip, we weren’t supposed to just cross the Bighorns in a car. We needed to put our feet on the ground. So, we detoured onto a Forest Service road, drove a short distance and parked. We began then walking toward the dominant form of Hesse Peak. I wanted to at least reach the mountain’s immediate base. We gained altitude for about three quarters of a mile as we continued walking up the Forest Service logging road. Along the way, the forest consisted mostly of Engleman Spruce and Subalpine Fir. The whole area had been logged some years before and we were looking at the youthful regeneration. There was little shade. The temperature was probably about 80 degrees and the air was crystal clear. I was bareheaded – foolish in the extreme. Without being aware of it, I quickly dehydrated and suddenly felt the worrisome symptoms of heat exhaustion coming on. So shy of my planned destination of only another quarter of a mile, we turned around. I drank plenty of liquid going down and Monica covered my head with a bandana, but the damage was done. Although I didn’t know it at the time, my hiking for the next several days was over. Back in the car, I got cooled down and we proceeded onward. We drove across Powder River Pass and I gazed at spots that I had climbed in the 1960s and once in the 1980s. The latter was on a return journey to the Bighorns. My young son and I got caught high on a ridge in an electrical storm. It was scary to say the least. We both thought we were going to be killed, but it wasn’t our time. Leaving Powder River Pass, Monica and I proceeded down through spectacular Ten Sleep Canyon. That names is the English equivalent of an Indian name. The local Crows located themselves at a point near the bottom of the canyon as being 10 sleeps from some particular destination, which is still debated. Monica especially liked Ten Sleep Canyon. It has a spacious feeling and there are plenty of colorful rock formations to see. Actually, Ten Sleep is one of several highly scenic canyons in the Bighorns. Two others are in the northern part of the range. One is traversed by U.S. 14 and 14a by the other. The U.S 14 route running through Shell Canyon is the better known of the two. I don’t recall the name of the canyon that 14a runs through, but it is perhaps the most spectacular of all and definitely the scariest to drive. However, apart from the scary western side descent on U.S. 14a, there are ample reasons to visit the northern end of the Bighorns. On Route 14a, one can visit the famous Medicine Wheel, a Native American calendar of sorts made of stones. The builders of the wheel have been lost to antiquity. The Indians of the region are the Absoraka or Crow. They have no convincing explanation for the Medicine Wheel. At the bottom of Ten Sleep Canyon, we found a small spot to partake of lunch. I had to have shade. We then exited the Bighorns and passed uneventfully through the small town of Ten Sleep. We crossed the largely dry Norwood River and proceeded westward to Worland where we intersected the Bighorn River. That famous stream flows north on its way to eventually join the Yellowstone River in Montana, which in turn flows into the Missouri across the border in North Dakota. But on its way, the Bighorn River has to carve the Bighorn Canyon, a scenic national recreation area that has surrendered its wildness and much of its character to a dam – a damn dam. After leaving the Bighorns, we entered the southern part of the Bighorn Basin, a true desert, but not a colorful one in its interior. At points, it is 100 miles wide. It is a region that lies between the Bighorns and Absorokas on the east and west and the Owl Creek and Bridger Mountains on the South. It is characterized mostly by the drab brown of the rock formations. Precipitation can be as low as 5 inches per year. Were it not for the profiles of the mountains bordering the Basin with their wildly colorful strata, the area would have little to offer scenically. There is some irrigation there. The climate is blisteringly hot in the summer and cold in the winter. But then Wyoming is a state of climatic extremes. As a brief climatic digression, the difference between Wyoming’s all time high of 116 degrees F. and its all time low of –66 degrees F. is a whopping 182 degree differential. In terms of average climate, there are places in Wyoming such as the Darwin Ranch in the Gos Ventre Mountains where the climate is remarkably cold. The average annual temperature for the Darwin Ranch (a guest ranch) is only 30.1 degrees. The ranch has recorded as low as 46 below zero in November, no less. By contrast, some parts of the Bighorn Basin can expect between 43 and 50 days of over 90 degrees in the summer. A phenomenal summary of Wyoming’s climate can be found at http://www.wrds.uwyo.edu/wrds/wsc/climateatlas/title_page.html From Worland, Monica and I headed in a southwesterly direction, passing through the town of Thermopolis which features the famous Mammoth Hot Spring. Mammoth is advertised as having the largest in volume in the world. I have no idea if the claim is valid, but sources that I checked all list it as “one of the largest”. Unfortunately, the state of Wyoming has exploited the spring. You will find no semblance of the natural spring. The State chose to make the site look and feel like a city park. However, at least it is free to the public. We eventually reached the Wind River Canyon, which cuts through the Owl Creek and Bridger Mountains. The Wind River does the cutting. Very scenic geological formations are to be seen everywhere. But now comes an oddity. At the point the Wind River emerges from the canyon, its name changes to the Bighorn. Yes, they are one and the same river. I know of no other river that does that. In the canyon, signs identify each rock strata as to type and period. Passing through the canyon, we headed to Riverton and through a part of the Wind River Indian Reservation, home to the Shoshone and Arapaho. Like the Crow, the Shoshone had been consistent friends to the white settlers and to the U.S. Government, but the reward of the Shoshones was to be forced to live with their enemies. Our insensitive government put both tribes on the same reservation, confirming that it didn’t make much difference whether a tribe was a friend or enemy to the invading white settlers. In the end, every single Indian tribe/nation got screwed. But the story is not entirely all grim for the Shoshones. They had a champion. Chief Washakie was both their war and peace chief and a true leader. He was a very foresighted man. Washakie was able to protect his people from the fate of the less fortunate tribes - removal from their native homelands. Many Indians were relocated Oklahoma. Although Washakie prevented a removal by his befriending the whites, he still wanted to see his people run free and hunt buffalo. When encouraged by an Indian agent to take up agriculture, Washakie’s response was “goddamn a potato.” I guess he had observed the life of the white sod-busters and wanted none of that lifestyle for either himself or his people. Continuing on southward, a wall of mountains loomed on the hazy, smoke-saturated horizon. We had reached the shadow of the remote Wind River mountains, Wyoming’s highest range. All but 4 of Wyoming’s 13,000-footers are in the Wind Rivers and their distant profile speaks to many glacier-carved spires. The state’s highest point is in the Wind Rivers, Gannett Peak at 13,804 feet. The mountain is named for a famous geographic and surveyor Henry Gannett, who was once president of the National Geographic Society. In addition to the number of 13ers in the Wind Rivers, the largest glaciers in the continental U.S. portion of the Rockies are in those mountains. They receive more snow than the other Wyoming ranges. It is true that the glacier fields on Mount Rainier and elsewhere in Washington State are much more extensive than those in the Wind Rivers, but within the part of the Rockies that are located in the continental U.S., the Wind River Range has the title sowed up. The surface area of the Wind River glaciers amounts to about 32 square kilometers. By comparison, the surface area of the glaciers in Glacier National Park add up to 28.4 square kilometers. Now compare those numbers to Mount Rainier, which alone boasts 92.1 square kilometers of glacial surface. Colorado’s total is about 1.5 square kilometers. Continuing on, we eventually reached the town of Lander, Wyoming. It was late afternoon. I wasn’t feeling any better, so we contemplated reining it in at a motel., but we still wanted to check out a nearby scenic area. It wasn’t very far, so we headed out of town. We soon entered another canyon called the Sinks Canyon that is cut by the Popo Agie River and quickly found a delightful little state campground. Monica fell in love with the area. Despite my heat symptoms, I thought that I might be up to camping for the night. In truth, I just wanted to find a place and lay down. After looking around, Monica spied a tent camping site next to the Popo Agie River (Popo Agie is pronounced Po-Po’-Zha). The site was ideal. So we grabbed it and quickly set up camp. We were right next to the rushing water. I well knew that was what Monica wanted. We ate a light meal and proceeded to hit the hay. The stars were brilliant and the sounds of the nearby water spellbinding. In the fading light, the outlines of the canyon walls reminded me that we were in rugged western country. Later in the evening, a canyon wind arose and added its voice to the spell cast by the place. Who could want more? There was little doubt in either of our minds that we would return to the Wind Rivers next year and stay at the same campsite if available. I wish we had gotten to the site sooner and I wish I had felt better. The river does something unusual. A short distance down stream from where we camped, the river suddenly plunges into a limestone cave and disappears underground. It then pops up 1200 feet farther down the canyon, seeping out of the rocks and creating a huge still pool that is home to huge trout. Based on dye tests, it takes the water over 2 hours to traverse the 1200 linear distance and more water seeps into the pool than rushes into the limestone cave. There are obviously other sources of water that merge with the river along the 1200-foot corridor. I will end Day #7, by noting that while on our trip, I acquired two books on the geology of Wyoming: “Roadside Geology of Wyoming” by David R. Lageson and Darwin R. Spearing and the “Traveler’s Guide to the Geology of Wyoming” by D.L. Blackstone, Jr. Blackstone was the state geologist for a couple of years and Professor Emeritus in the Department of Geology and Geophysics, University of Wyoming, so that might seem to be the choice to make. But, if you must make a choice between the two books, don’t hesitate on which one to chose. Buy the first one. Although there are some good illustrations and explanations in the second, i.e. Blackstone’s book, he provides incomplete treatment of many areas and even misidentifies the summit of Medicine Bow Peak in a photo. Blackstone’s economic bent is clear throughout the book, and for me, is a considerable distraction. On that note, I’ll end Day #7. Bob    Robert T. Leverett Cofounder, Eastern Native Tree Society   Home