#TBT Out in the Wild, Wild West
This started as a Throwback Thursday post on Facebook, but as is often the case with me, once I start writing I just can't seem to stop. Maybe I'm compensating for still not being able to talk with humans with my raw throat, but I digress (as I usually do).
Back in the late 70's (or could be early 80's), Rick Sands and I spent a month doing a Climbing tour of the American West. We did big mountain and alpine climbing in the Cascades & Tetons and rock climbing at climbing hot-spots ranging from small and obscure like Sinks Canyon in Wyoming, to big name areas like Leavenworth in Washington and the Needles in South Dakota. This tale concerns the time we visited Devil's Tower in Southeast Wyoming.
Devils Tower is a 1200 foot high rock structure rising incongruously from the flat prairies of eastern Wyoming. It's main claim to fame - at least to normal people, not climbers - was that it was featured in Steven Spielberg's famous movie Close Encounters of the 3rd Kind. It was a pivotal plot element and featured in the climax of the movie. One of the characters even builds a replica of it at the dining table out of mashed potatoes.
Plains Indian lore are that some girls went out to play and giant bears saw them and pursued them. The girls ran onto a rock and prayed to the Great Spirit. The Great Spirit grew the rock and transported the girls high into the air. The pissed off giant bears raked the sides of the rock with their claws giving Devils Tower it's present day appearance.
A less colorful theory by scientists is that a long time ago, this was the site of a large volcano. Magma from eruptions cooled and plugged the neck of the volcano. Over eons, the rest of the volcano eroded, leaving the harder plug in place. I kinda like the Indians version myself.
Rick & I spent several days climbing various routes. The first route we climbed was the classic Durrance Route (5.7) which leads to the summit. You do some 4th class (un-roped) pitches to get to the bottom of the technical difficulties.
Six or Seven pitches lead to the summit. One of the fun pitches was high up on the route there was a jump of a gap about 5 feet wide from one small rock to another. The bottom of gap was about 700 feet straight down. Not technically hard, but psychologically intimidating. The summit was an amazing place. It's a slightly sloping flat area of about 2 acres covered in grass and flowers. Due to the vertical sizes of the tower, it felt like being on a small slice of prairie floating thousands of feet above the surroundings.
Since dark was approaching we hurriedly prepared to leave. A couple of double rope rappels, with the last by headlamps, found us safe on the ground.
Feeling flushed with victory, Rick & I decided real food was in order. We have been living on camp food for several weeks at that point. We headed out into the night to find some.
After a half hour drive through the sparse countryside, we spotted a bar with a glowing 'pizza' sign with all the beer logos. Pizza and beer! Sounds good to me.
We entered the bar and immediately realized that it was probably a mistake. It was a dark and smokey place filled with cowboys, ranchers and shitkickers. All conversations came to a halt, and all eyes turned to us. Being we were a jewboy from New York and skinny hippie kid, this started to feel like a scene from Deliverance.
Hunger (not intelligence) won out and we made our way to the bar. "Help ya son" growled the bartender. "Yeah, we'd like a pizza and some beer."
"Ain't got no pizza."
"But your sign say Pizza?"
A hard-eye stare followed with "I said we ain't got no pizza" with the implied "for the likes of you sissy faggot boys".
Rick & I looked at each other, and one of us said, "You know, camp food sounds pretty good right now ..." and we headed back to our white-gas stove and P&B sandwiches.
Back in the late 70's (or could be early 80's), Rick Sands and I spent a month doing a Climbing tour of the American West. We did big mountain and alpine climbing in the Cascades & Tetons and rock climbing at climbing hot-spots ranging from small and obscure like Sinks Canyon in Wyoming, to big name areas like Leavenworth in Washington and the Needles in South Dakota. This tale concerns the time we visited Devil's Tower in Southeast Wyoming.
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| Devils Tower from outside the park |
Devils Tower is a 1200 foot high rock structure rising incongruously from the flat prairies of eastern Wyoming. It's main claim to fame - at least to normal people, not climbers - was that it was featured in Steven Spielberg's famous movie Close Encounters of the 3rd Kind. It was a pivotal plot element and featured in the climax of the movie. One of the characters even builds a replica of it at the dining table out of mashed potatoes.
Plains Indian lore are that some girls went out to play and giant bears saw them and pursued them. The girls ran onto a rock and prayed to the Great Spirit. The Great Spirit grew the rock and transported the girls high into the air. The pissed off giant bears raked the sides of the rock with their claws giving Devils Tower it's present day appearance.
A less colorful theory by scientists is that a long time ago, this was the site of a large volcano. Magma from eruptions cooled and plugged the neck of the volcano. Over eons, the rest of the volcano eroded, leaving the harder plug in place. I kinda like the Indians version myself.
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| Devil's Tower - Durrance Rount in the center |
Rick & I spent several days climbing various routes. The first route we climbed was the classic Durrance Route (5.7) which leads to the summit. You do some 4th class (un-roped) pitches to get to the bottom of the technical difficulties.
.JPG) |
| Better pic of the Durrance Route - It starts at the bottom of the leaning tower.and ascends cracks to the top (pic from Wikipedia) |
Since dark was approaching we hurriedly prepared to leave. A couple of double rope rappels, with the last by headlamps, found us safe on the ground.
 |
| Another view of rock structure. Most of the climbing is cracks between the extruded columns. |
After a half hour drive through the sparse countryside, we spotted a bar with a glowing 'pizza' sign with all the beer logos. Pizza and beer! Sounds good to me.
We entered the bar and immediately realized that it was probably a mistake. It was a dark and smokey place filled with cowboys, ranchers and shitkickers. All conversations came to a halt, and all eyes turned to us. Being we were a jewboy from New York and skinny hippie kid, this started to feel like a scene from Deliverance.
Hunger (not intelligence) won out and we made our way to the bar. "Help ya son" growled the bartender. "Yeah, we'd like a pizza and some beer."
"Ain't got no pizza."
"But your sign say Pizza?"
A hard-eye stare followed with "I said we ain't got no pizza" with the implied "for the likes of you sissy faggot boys".
Rick & I looked at each other, and one of us said, "You know, camp food sounds pretty good right now ..." and we headed back to our white-gas stove and P&B sandwiches.
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| A friendlier local resident |
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