On Wednesday the 10th we went from the top of Wyoming to the bottom. We started in a pristine valley, continued through a transition from sage flats to grasslands, and ended in a coal and gas boomtown. We woke up as guests at a former retreat for energy company CEOs, and we went to bed in a campground where most of our neighbors were newcomers seeking entry-level jobs in the fields owned by those CEOs.
The retreat is called The Ranch at Ucross, and it is the only place where travelers can legally pull over in the 110 miles of U.S. 14 between Sheridan and Gillette. Finding it was a lucky break. It was a wonderful place, but also a little strange. It began as a cattle-and-hay operation in 1901. German stonemasons built the main ranch house in 1912 by hauling limestone down from the nearby hills. The place generated its own electricity from carbide batteries until the late1940s. The view of Clear Creek from our rooms is probably the same now as it was then. At night it gives you the absolute stillness of an area that is 27 miles from the nearest town, the clear air of high altitude, and the sounds of birds and animals packed into a desert stream corridor.
The Ranch at Ucross also gives you a lot of older people. It has a contract with a tour bus company that delivers 85 percent of its guests, who are well-to-do retirees on their way from Mount Rushmore to Yellowstone. We arrived in the afternoon and saw men in their 80s riding horses, elderly women strolling on the driveway, and a man who might have been 90 getting happily sloshed on the front porch of the ranch house.
The Ranch was sold to the Apache Oil Corporation of Houston in the early 1970s and operated as a corporate retreat until it became a lodge in 1995. Apache is a relatively small oil company, which means it has a market capitalization of only $35 billion (Exxon Mobil’s market cap is $390 billion). The company bought another ranch next door for their top dogs after they sold the first one, and they also bought the old Pratt and Ferris ranch complex further down the road. We dawdled around, watching the antelope in the fields and the fish in the creek, and didn’t get on our bikes until 11am. Then we got off them again for an hour at the Ucross Foundation’s art gallery and office just down the road.
Apache Oil renovated the 1882 Pratt and Ferris ranch, which everyone calls Big Red, and got it listed on the National Register of Historic Places. The company set up the Ucross Foundation to manage its 22,000 acres and the buildings. They donated a conservation easement on half of the land to the Nature Conservancy, and they made the ranch buildings into a retreat for artists. Residence manager Ruth Salvatore gave us a tour, which included a great show of landscapes by Joellyn Duesberry. A lot of good books have been written here, too. It’s a high-end, well-managed place.
Shortly after we left the Foundation, we noticed a road sign that said Gillette (our destination) was 80 miles away. We had thought it was 70. There was a crosswind, and it was after noon when we pulled into Clearmont, a tiny town with a lot of day workers from the Burlington Northern Santa Fe Railroad riding around in white fleet pickup trucks. We noticed that the woman tending the counter at the town’s one convenience store was the same woman who had been waiting tables at the Ranch the night before. She has two kids and says she works 12-hour days. The jobs pay $8 an hour. We were already a long way from Ucross.
As we rode east through big open landscapes, still battling the crosswind, we were passed by an endless stream of big pickup trucks loaded with tools, tanks, and dogs. Most of them are heading to or from Sheridan or Gillette after working on coal-bed methane gas rigs, said Vickie Abbott, who manages the Ranch. Abbott used to teach in public schools. She says that the energy boom is putting pressure on the grade schools to expand, but it is also keeping a lot of young Wyoming men from going to college. “They can start at $22 an hour, so they don’t think they need to go on,” she said. Field workers don’t acquire skills they can use in other industries, so when they are laid off, they are stuck. Injuries and drug abuse are also rampant among energy roughnecks, and Abbott also worries about the effect all this drilling is having on groundwater. “Ranchers have seen their cattle dying because the drilling pollutes their springs,” she says. “Water is everything out here.”
We rode past a big rail-bed rebuilding operation, with different machines for digging out old wooden ties, replacing them, driving spikes, and welding. It went on for miles. Coal trains are heavy. We also passed several buildings with big fans on them, which were probably booster stations for a natural gas pipeline. Then we crossed the Powder River, and shortly after that we climbed out of a small valley and the sage went away and we rode through fields covered with grass. Poof: we were in a different climate zone.
After about 40 miles we came to the bar at Spotted Horse (pop. 2). It had been several hours since we’d seen anything with a water spigot, so we went in. A cowboy and a methane worker were drinking at the bar. They and the bartender were all looking at different copies of “Playboy.” One sign on the dirty wall said, “drink till she’s cute.” Another said, “we don’t call 911.” We had to buy our water, but the guys were friendly enough. I bet they don’t see guys wearing black tights very often. “Eighty miles you’re goin’?,” said the cowboy. “When I’m on my horse for 40 miles, that is one long day. Better get on.”
Ah, but we had a secret weapon. After Spotted Horse we turned south, the crosswind became a stiff tailwind, and we started cruising at well above 20 mph. Rain was moving in and pushing us toward Sara and the camper. We were racing it. The white trucks were also racing home, and as the sky grew darker we pulled on reflective gear and hugged the shoulder. Near Gilette we passed the enormous Eagle Butte strip mine, which was lit up in the gloom. It went on for miles. We passed tire stores selling tires that were 20 feet in diameter. We passed a billboard that said, “worried about your water? Call Culligan!” The road was cracked and strewn with debris. The buildings were squat and ugly. Then it was welcome to Gillette; welcome to the boomtown.
We pulled into the Greentree Crazy Woman Campground just before the rain hit, exhausted and grateful once again to Sara for finding and setting up shelter. After dinner, when the rain paused, I went to the washhouse/laundry/tv/game room to use the wireless internet connection. A deeply tanned man and a 16-year-old boy were there, folding laundry. “We got here from Indiana a few days ago,” he said. “Things weren’t going so good back there, and I have an ex-wife who won’t leave me alone. So we loaded our dogs and horses in the trailer and took off. Today I got a job – which is good, because things were looking pretty desperate.” They slept in their diesel pickup truck that night, turning the engine on every few hours to run the heater. The place emptied out early in the morning, with all the guys heading out to drink from the dirty river of coal and gas money.
The men’s bathroom was heavily used and kind of creepy, but Sara said the women’s room was spotless and empty. Everything we saw looked cheap and temporary. I lay in my sleeping bag and thought about the guy’s smiling kid. Back in Ucross, they were probably serving after-dinner drinks to the artists and enjoying the sunset.The guy’s kid probably dropped out of school to follow his dad. Now he just has to wait a year or two until he can get one of those field jobs, where they pay plenty and it’s easy to get meth and weed . That kid is hanging by a thread.
Day 32: Gillette to Devil’s Tower
The forecast was for cloudy skies clearing toward sunset. Our destination was Devil’s Tower, a 1,200-foot stone plug that rises above the Belle Fourche River. If you’ve seen the movie “Close Encounters o the Third Kind,” you’ve seen it. We started off at 9am in light rain. At the outskirts of town we passed another strip mine with a large coal-fired power plant right next to it. Another 100 megawatt plant was recently approved for a site just east of here. It expensive to move coal to power plants, so many power plants are being built next to the coal. We didn’t smell anything coming out of the smoke stacks, and we do use electricity, but as I rode past the stacks I still had the following thought: this is the technology we have to replace if we’re going to survive.
Further out of town we rode past the Donkey Creek Rail Yard, where coal and freight trains wait for their turns to shoot down the main line. We rode past coal trains that seemed almost a mile long. They were just starting east from the yard, and we raced them as they picked up speed. After 25 miles we were in Moorcroft and hungry, so we stopped at Donna’s Diner for lunch. The food was good and the place was packed. They hadn’t seen a lot of men wearing back tights either, but they looked away politely as we walked in and out.
We paid for our pancakes and chicken dumping soup and went outside. Just as we started pulling on our helmets, a friendly-looking man walked up and asked where we were going. When we told him, he said it made him feel good to see people doing big things like that. When we sad that our destination today was Devil’s Tower, he smiled and said, “My son and I climbed that about 30 years ago, with ropes. I tried to climb it with my brother several times before. The first guy who ever climbed it put a wooden ladder there to get up the last 150 feet or so. Parts the ladder are still there. My brother and I almost made it.” I asked him what is on top of Devil’s Tower. “Sagebrush,” he replied.
Bill Hughes, 87, has lived in Moorcroft all his life, except for World War II when he was a flight engineer on B-17 and B-29 bombers. He has been the mayor; he has also managed the local department store and started the local bank. “If you stay in a town this small long enough, you do everything,” he says. Bill says he also built the first trail around the base of Devil’s Tower when he was a boy scout in 1935. The Civilian Conservation Corps came in a few years later and built a prettier trail, but his troop cleared the path.
We rode north through grasslands, and after we crossed the Belle Fourche River the landscape changed again. Here were pine trees and stone outcrops and hills several hundred feet high. We had entered the Black Hills. “I’m getting closer to home,” said Jim, who was raised in south central Minnesota. “The river valleys there look kind of like this.”
It was still cloudy and threatening but it didn’t rain. The Tower loomed every so often, and then it dominated the landscape as we got within a few miles of it. We pulled into the Devil’s Tower KOA Kampground, which is unfortunately about three miles from the base of the tower and right at the Forest Service entrance station. I went to the Devil’s Laundromat and took a Devil’s Shower. Then Sara and Jim made a diabolically tasty meal and wouldn’t let me clean up – they never do. “Go write your blog,” they said. Outside the sky had cleared and a huge moon had risen to the east, illuminating the tower. We’ll visit it in the morning.
12 replies on “Days 30-31: Ucross to Devil's Tower”
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This is an especially strong, evocative entry with stark contrasts.
The Steve Earle concert here last night at the State Theatre set me up for the descriptions of the father and son. Thank you, Brad. By the way, it was a great show and the political commentary was spot on. Tania (with Garth at my feet). PS . Here’s to warmer weather for the three of you.
You guys owe Sara big time – like a cruise, trip to Hawaii or another adventure of her choice (smile). I biked through Sheridan also but then turned south and headed towards Rocky Mountain National Park, and Boulder Colo where my son lives. Great and gorgeous country. What an adventure you are having.
And is it Sara that is finding the cool places to stay at night? Cool as in awesome not temperature cool (smile).
Take care and enjoy the ride. Jane
Not sure if you know it, but Devil’s Tower is of great spiritual significance to the Native Americans. There are some very interesting traditional stories of how it came to be. FYI. Jane
Garden of Eden?
No, it is not the Garden of Eden (which by the way would have been totally destroyed in Noah’s Flood, and thus, we would have no idea of its exact location)—but Jackson, Wyoming, is a beautiful place and one of Mally and my favorite places to visit in the USA. While we are here for a few days (I am speaking at Community Bible Church on Sunday—you can obtain information from the AiG website), we have done a little sightseeing. Here are some photographs taken yesterday: (If the pictures didn’t copy, they were very good..not as good as yours)..Is there a video or audio that Tania mentioned of you all that is available to us public? Peg is in Tampa ’til Sunday night.. Love, BigTOE
Cheese and crackers! I was all set to take a bike ride this afternoon but it took me an hour to catch up with the blogs…Sheridan WY made me think about our situation here in Boulder where we are the victims of our own success after 33 years of tax-funded open space acquisition–i.e. we now go through tens of millions of tax dollars a year to buy smaller and smaller parcels of private land (“jewels” as they are usually referred to) which has ballooned in value due to scarcity and demand. Tax money that is needed for schools, public health, public housing, etc.
My proposal–and I’m sure some smart person has figured this all out–is to develop a system where potential greenbelt/open space can be irreversably zoned as agricultural but the owner still gets a financial reward over time, just as if he had held on to the land as an investment and then sold it to a developer.
Example: Rancher Smith outside Sheridan has 200 scenic acres in an area where no one is developing, current value $100,000. Sheridan does not have $100,000 to spare but would like to preserve this land. They make a contract with Smith whereby every 5 years, for 30 years, the land is appraised and Smith is paid one-fourth of the INCREASE in value by Sheridan. This land is irreversably zoned agricultural. Assume Sheridan grows and the land increases in value by $25,000 every 5 years: The first payment to Smith is only $8,250 (Sheridan can afford this); after 30 years the propery is worth $250,000 and the fiinal payment to Smith (or his heirs or the new owner) is $37,500 (now affordable for the bigger and richer Sheridan). Sheridan has paid out a total of $133000 (by my rough calculation) but has done so over time. Rancher Smith has made a tidy, guaranteed profit and he, his heirs, or a new owner is still free to ranch the land.
Obviously this scenario has all sorts of assumptions which I have not considered. Hopefully people with big brains are working on it.
Well a hurricane is whipping into our Texas refineries so I’ve gotta’ go fill up the SUV now.
Toodles and tailwinds,
Tom and Lisa
Hey Brad. Are you doing a a live radio interview w/ Tracy this Sunday? If so please provide your loyal fans the details. Tania
Brad, Jim, and Sara!
It is great to read the blog and follow along with your trip! I was glad to hear about that tailwind! And what about the Devil’s Tower by moonlight!
Brad! You continue to outdo yourself with your wonderfully evocative entries. Bill Hughes sounds like quite the character, and I feel like I’m right there with you…you’re such a good writer.
Tania is right on the money, Steve Earle was terrific and very moving.
Tomorrow is the AIDS Ride for Life, with over 420 participants. Crossing fingers for little rain and lots of fun.
Jane… YES I do and will owe Sara “big time”. It won’t be a bike trip either. Maybe a trip to Scotland. How do we chose a campsite for example. We decide the nite before the town we can reach and the route. If we have internet SK will google for campsites option and make some calls. She may even visit more than one for a personal evaluation. She has saved us from some bad choices. Our buzz word for a bad place is “johns rancho inferno”..a reference to a place in Kettle Falls Idaho that was not only the worst but the most expensive. And we had to pay for showers. We hope to have cell reception during the ride and get directions to the “chosen spot”. Tonite in Sturgis Brad and I were riding in the rain during rush hour on Main St and getting directions. It can be “hairy” at times but 75% of the time it all goes smoothly. Tonite we have full hook ups and access to showers and laundry for $25. A “good value”.
The annual land auction is scheduled for Saturday, August 21, 2011 at 10:00 AM. The auction will take place at the County Courthouse.