The ruts were cut into rock, according to the signs by the pioneers wagon trains as the crossed through Wyoming in the 1800's. The ruts were about 3-4 feet deep. I walked around the site, read the historical posts, then drove another two miles to the register cliffs. The pioneers left their names in a cliff as the passed through. It is now known as Register Cliff. Unfortunately people are still carving their names in the cliffs.I scoured the walls looking for authentic names. Most of the original names are behind chain link fence to deter vandalism; always sad that it is necessary to take such measures. Makes you wonder what is going through someones mind who is vandalizing a part of history.
Several trails cross paths here. The Oregon Trail, of course, the Mormon Trail, California Gold Rush and the short lived, which I was surprised to here, Pony Express.
I headed off to Fort Laramie. A military installation, that also functioned as a prairie town. The fort is mostly ruins today, but I walked around and explored the buildings. The officers quarters, the watering hole, the bakery and the Captain's House still remain. It reminded me of Williamsburg, although at Williamsburg they are actually functional making goods for people to use in modern day. Fort Laramie is more of a historical site. The bakery was operating though. I spoke with the soldier in the bakery who was making bread, as he said, the same way they made it in the 1800's. It tasted like it too.
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| Sign post on the way to Ft. Laramie |
After touring the fort for a couple of hours I headed to the Ayer Natural Bridge. Along the way I passed a truck carrying a turbine blade for a wind turbine. I never really comprehended the size and magnitude of the wind turbine until then. Impressive! And, as I drove along I thought it would be my grandfather's birthday today, and also a good friend of mine. My grandfather moved on when I was 12 years old, but I always remembered his birthday for some reason. I sent my friend Carol a text wishing her a Happy Birthday.
I took the small road to the natural bridge which goes by farmland where of course I stopped and said hello to the cows grazing in the fields. One even said hello back "Moooooo-moawwww." He seemed a little irritated so I went on my way. The road to the natural bridge a winding road, quite narrow with huge drop offs, absolutely no room to make a mistake. When I arrived I found a small park with a few people soaking up the rays and having picnics. One little girl was running around as her parents napped not to far off. There was also a small campground that people camped at free of charge.
The red rocks were stunning. Huge red boulders tower over you. The color was extraordinary. The cliffs dwarfed the natural bridge. The bridge is in the middle of the park. It separates the camping ground area from the park. It is 20 feet high with a 90 ft span that was carved by a stream that runs through the entire park. I sat on the edge of the stream listening to the water, when the young girl of the sleeping parents came over and started talking to me. She looked to be about 5 or 6 years old and was asking me what I was doing and why I was there. She told me her parents weren't really sleeping, and that they knew what she was doing the entire time. I was very amused that she knew this, but thought her parents probably told her that.
I headed back to Jamie's. About half way there a storm came through. I loved the storms in Wyoming, they were usually short and everything seemed refreshed and new when it quit.
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