Devil’s Tower

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Such an amazing morning. Took a two hour drive to Wyoming to visit Devil’s Tower. I have always been a fan of Stephen Spielburg’s Close Encounters of the Third Kind And wanted to go there. To be able to be up close and personal with the monument, hike 1.6 miles around the whole base, see people climbing up to the summit and smell the Ponderosa pines was a dream come true. We learned so many interesting things. Devil’s Tower started out as a magma plug in a volcano that never erupted. As it cooled inside the chamber, long columns formed around the edges. The whole structure was covered by land mud and slit over the following millions of years, and then through erosion by winds and water emerged as what is seen today.

The Native Americans have several tales about the structure and the columns, particularly one about an Indian family of seven girls and one boy. They were playing in the general area one day and suddenly the boy began to turn into a bear. He started to chase his sisters, trying to kill them. The gods heard the girls cry out and the land below them began to rise up. As the land rose, the bear scratched deep grooves into the rock trying to get to them, but to no avail. When the upward movement finally ceased, the gods placed the Seven Sisters, the Pleiades, into the night sky. Always wondered how those Seven Sisters got there. As I mentioned the other day, Ponderosa pine bark gives off an intoxicating smell, usually vanilla or butterscotch, rarely strawberry or chocolate. The more direct sunlight the pine receives, the stronger the smell. Part of our hike included smelling the trees. I found them to have more of a vanilla caramel scent than any other.

Also, as in many other structures, geological features and formations Devil’s Tower is sacred to the Native Americans. They come to the monument and tie prayer parcels to the trees and bushes, sort of like the Jewish people put notes in the Wailing Wall. After several hours there, we enjoyed lunch at a fancy golf club, then off for an afternoon in Deadwood, SD, home to the murder of Wild Bill Hickok during a poker game with the winning hand of 2 black 2’s, 2 black 8’s and a 9 of diamonds, now considered The Dead Man’s hand. We took Kevin Costner’s Deadwood bus tour with an hilarious driver. Pretty corny, but still learned a lot. Seems Mr. Hickok had a premonition he would never leave Deadwood alive. He met the love of his life, Agnes, a woman 11 years his senior and the owner of a circus, and they married. Less than two months later, he and a friend, Mr. Utter, left for Deadwood with all the things a miner would need to support himself, a claim to a deed, and an idea. Utter would sell supplies to the miners and keep the business going. Hickok would work the claim. Took only a little while for Hickok to realize it was hard work and he would rather drink and gamble. Forgot all about his wife, it seems. He spent his days in tSaloon Number 10 drinking and gambling. He always took the seat where his back was to the wall. One day however, there was someone iin his preferred seat who would not move. Hickok reluctantly took a different seat. Unfortunately, that was the day he was killed as Jack McCall snuck up behind him and shot him in the back of the head. The bullet came out of his right cheek and went into the wrist of a doctor playing opposite him. The doctor kept the bullet in his wrist until he died many years later of blood poisoning. They hung McCall and buried him in an unnamed grave. Hickok was buried in St Moriah cemetery. Over the years his head stone was stolen several times. Next to his grave and slightly up the hill, is buried Calamity Jane, who after Hickok’s death claimed they were an item. No one believes that though, because Jane not only was short, she looked like, talked like, drank like, gambled like, shot lIke and cursed like a man. The history of Deadwood, like all the other tourist areas is really interesting, I just can’t remember it all.

Last tidbit for the night because I am getting tired, There are a lot of national parks and a lot of national monuments. Not all monuments are in parks though and there’s a big difference why. A President may declare anything to be a monument, but to become a national park, the place must be approved by Congress. Enough for tonight. Sleep well.

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