On The Road – Independence Rock

A little south of dead center Wyoming and a short way down the Sweetwater River from South Pass, the hulking dome of Independence Rock rises above the scrub and sagebrush like the back of a huge whale napping at sea. Oddly, Independence Rock is probably a quieter place today than it was during most summers following the California Gold Rush. It sits on the Oregon/California Trail and was a busy stopover location on the journey west. If your emigrant party was on schedule, you arrived here around the 4th of July, Independence Day.

Even today, with a two lane highway close by, standing on top of Independence Rock, one feels lonely and insignificant. The landscape is immense and indifferent. Even amid the comforting hubbub of the community of wagon parties that paused here, there must have been many lumps caught in many throats. Will I ever see loved ones I left behind? And what awaits me?

Perhaps it was the need to push back against the vulnerability and insignificance those travelers must have felt amid such a vast landscape: ‘Who knows what my fate will be, but let the world know I took on a great challenge, and I passed by here.’ Whatever the motivation, around the rock’s base and up on top, thousands etched their names and the date they passed for us to contemplate 170 years hence.
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Independence Rock isn’t handy to the traveler. But if you are on the road between Rawlins and Casper, twenty miles east of Muddy Gap, pull over and look around. It is a nice moment to sit down beside one of the names etched in Independence Rock and imagine an adventure so grand.  

The Winds

I have always been fascinated by stories of the fur trappers who ventured up to where the Jefferson, Madison, and Gallatin Rivers join forces to create the Missouri River. Until the discovery of South Pass, the Missouri River was the main thoroughfare to beaver country for John Colter, Jim Bridger, Jedediah Smith, and so many other mountain men. Read about any of these men and the Wind River Mountains figure prominently in their travels. 

Descending Fremont Peak

I have visited the Wind River Mountains in Wyoming twice, and on each trip the prevailing winds brought smoky air from wildfires ablaze in the northwest. But even murky air cannot dull the magnificence of this range. It is a Sierra-like landscape. Glaciers have scraped the range down to its bare granite bones leaving spectacular serrated peaks and easily navigable wide open terrain. Terrific. 
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This view over Island Lake looks toward Titcomb Basin. Looming on the horizon on the right is 13,751-foot Fremont Peak, first climbed by John C. Fremont on August 15, 1842. Several days later, we climbed the peak. We did not realize until months later that we were on the peak 170 years to the day after Fremont’s ascent.

If you backpack, put Titcomb Basin and the Winds on your bucket list. You will see plenty of folks on the trail, but once there, you can find solitude. 

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