California or Bust, Day 6 | NE to WY
Finally getting back to blogging the rest of our trip! Buckle up. This is going to be a long one, since we saw SO MUCH.
The day started at Windlass Hill, which is part of the Ash Hollow State Historical Park. Remember all those poor pioneers who had to drag their wagons up the incline at California Hill? Well, this is where they had to come back down again. Windlass Hill got its name due to stories being told about the emigrants using a ship’s windlass to winch their wagons down the hill. While interesting, research hasn’t uncovered anything to prove that the stories are true.
Robin and I were the only ones that made the hike up to the top of the hill. She was a little alarmed by the CAUTION:Rattlesnake area signs that were posted along the path. Thankfully, we didn’t encounter any snakes, but we were rewarded with some beautiful views.
From here, we headed west (duh) to our next amazing land feature, Courthouse and Jail Rocks. I may have driven down the wrong road at first, but eventually I figured out where we needed to be. While this wasn’t technically on the trail, many of the emigrants would go out of their way to get a closer look. You can see why…
Then, we headed to a monument that all you 80s kids should recognize from playing the Oregon Trail game on the black and green screens of your classroom IBMs. Chimney Rock! Be still, my geeky, little heart. It’s much, MUCH more impressive in real life.
We spent some time at the visitor center, where we were largely ignored by the ladies who were working (definitely a big difference from the excellent people at Fort Kearny). The kids got to pack another wagon, and I got some peace to look around and read the huge Trail Timeline they had. Elijah got a yo-yo, and Wyatt fell asleep in the carrier on my back.
In the pioneer days, the spire of Chimney Rock was taller than it is today. It has since been reduced, due to erosion and lightening strikes.
Did I mention that we saw a lot? As we were headed away from Chimney Rock, and out of Nebraska, we passed by Scott’s Bluff. We drove on through though, because I had my sights set on one last stop in Wyoming.
Aside from bathroom breaks and snack stops, we did some drive-bys of some significant locations, including the Battle of Blue Water (near Ash Hollow), the burial site of Rebecca Winters, and the location of The Great Smoke, where the Horse Creek Treaty was signed.
After having traveled next to, passed, or crossed over the Platte River, at least, a dozen times, we finally reached a point where I was able to get out and photograph it. The marker reads, “Old Army Bridge over the Platte River – erected in 1875. This bridge was a vital link between Cheyenne, Fort Laramie and the military outposts, Indian agencies and gold fields of the Black Hills Dakota Region.”
As we pulled into Fort Laramie National Historic Site, the sun was getting ready to set. I live for historic sites like this, so I was a little bummed to only have an hour to explore. It was absolutely deserted, save for a truck that I could only assume belonged to the park ranger. All the kiddos wanted to do was run around and get the crazies out, so my mama sat with them, and I set off to grab what photos and history I could.
I started with the building called “Old Bedlam.” It was originally built to house bachelor officers (Bedlam? Bachelor officers? Whaaaaaat??), and is the oldest military building in Wyoming. I was pleasantly surprised to discover that you could actually enter the old buildings, and grab a peek into some of the different rooms throughout, giving a brief sense of what life must’ve been like, living on an isolated Wyoming outpost in the 1800s.
When I exited the building, there was a park ranger waiting. I had the briefest fear that I had done something wrong, but he was super friendly, asking what brought me to Fort Laramie. I’m sure he wasn’t prepared for the earful he got, as I was in the throes of a complete history fangirl moment. He was, however, most gracious. He told me that he was getting ready to do his final rounds of the buildings and start locking up, but if I wanted, he’d give me a lift across the parade ground (the buildings on the site are pretty spread out), so that I’d have a chance to peek into the jail. I accepted, after determining he wasn’t a creeper, and as we motored over, he explained that this was actually the THIRD jail building the fort had seen, and at one point, it even housed a drunk Calamity Jane for a night, before she joined a wagon train headed to Deadwood, SD with Wild Bill Hickok.
Now, it just houses some of the canons that were supplied to Fort Laramie throughout the years. The two lower photos are what remains of the old solitary confinement cells (left), and the two existing solitary cells in the “new” jail (right).
After visiting the jail, he recommended taking a look at the post-surgeon’s quarters, and then the Lt. Colonel’s Quarters (aka Burt House). Col. Burt and his wife were stationed at Fort Laramie twice, and the house is restored to how it looked on their second time posted here, in 1887-88. The park ranger explained that, when the Burt’s son learned that Fort Laramie was going to be restored as a historic site, he donated all of his parents’ furniture and belongings from their time spent there.
Adjacent to the Burt House, was the building that housed the fort commissary, post office, and in later years, the officers’ club and a bar for enlisted soldiers and civilians who were passing through.
The Calvary Barracks was the last building that I had time to visit. It’s also the largest building on site. The upstairs had large sleeping quarters, while the lower level contained a mess hall. When the fort was decommissioned, and the Army sold off the buildings, it went through a few different incarnations, including a home, store, saloon, and even a dance hall!
When I was done looking through the buildings, the kind park ranger let me talk his ear off a little bit more, before asking if I’d like to be a part of Fort Laramie history. I didn’t even hesitate before saying yes (and yes, I realize that it was getting dark, and I was, more or less, alone, and this is how horror movies or newspaper headlines start, but I recognized a fellow history lover, so it is what it is).
At any rate, he asked my help in lowering and folding the American flag that proudly flies over the Fort Laramie parade ground. This is a tradition that has taken place, each and every day, for as long as the fort has been in operation.
I. Was. THRILLED.
…I may have even gotten a few of The Feels, but it was windy, so we could also just attribute the watery eyes to that.
