On the morning of the 14th we skedaddled (western talk) out of Lusk and enjoyed the prairie for mile after mile as we wound our way down route 85. At the town of Fort Laramie, we detoured over to the real Fort Laramie, one of the 19th century forts which helped the pioneers cross the plains and “subdue” the Indians. It was on a flat plain next to the Platte River, down some from the bluffs around it. It served as a fort between 1849 and 1890 when it was no longer needed. Many houses and barracks have been restored; many are preserved as ruins; and some, over its long history, have been lost entirely. It was easy to see how it was a welcome sight for the tired travelers, but also how boring life must have been there for the army. After surveying the entire place, watching a movie on the history, helping the economy by buying several books, and becoming better informed citizens, we drove down the road a few miles to two other nearly forgotten historical spots. The first was called Register Rock; a large bluff where people from the wagon trains camped overnight and carved their names and dates into the stone face of the soft limestone rock. Many 20th Century idiots have carved their names too, but the oldest section now has a chain link fence to protect it. I took several pictures of old names, of course. The second site was a spot of rock where the wagon wheels actually wore tracks in the stone – they figure over 500,000 people migrated out on the Oregon Trail – and in one spot the trail was about 4 feet down in the stone. Soft stone!
What beautiful country as we drove down route 34 to Laramie; high stony outcroppings on both sides of the road at times; much endless prairie grasses, big storm clouds building to our northeast. I get very nostalgic about it.
Laramie has grown. Developments have sprouted out in every direction. We got situated in the KOA campground – unfortunately, located right next to Interstate 80. There are many trailer parks in the area and we both thought “uck” as we drove in, but it hasn’t been at all bad. We slept right through the hum of the highway.
After checking in we took a quick tour and went through the downtown as I knew it, now known as the “historic” downtown – boy, does that make me feel old – and then the old neighborhood. I found the elementary school I attended (Beitle School) and then we parked next to the park we used to walk through and walked over to 1933 Custer. There were thick lush bushes and trees in every yard now – not the empty yards with scrawny trees struggling to live that I remember – and the houses are small and packed close together. There were kids playing in the front yard and I introduced ourselves. A very polite young man (tenth grader) talked to us and told us to look at the back yard and take pictures. He offered to take us inside too, but without a parent we wouldn’t go in. They had just moved in a few weeks ago and he attends a recent high school a few blocks further out off Grand Avenue. The neighborhood has become more “seedy” and lower income than what it once was. A huge movie theatre complex occupies the end of the street where the National Guard Armory used to sit. Ugly!
We treated ourselves to a steak dinner in the “historic” district after walking around downtown for awhile. There was a street farmers market going on, on a couple of blocked off streets, which we enjoyed. Have found the Episcopal Cathedral, but not the old Baptist Church where we used to attend. Today, Saturday, we will do some more driving around and looking. It is a slow morning. Resting.
more later, j & r
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