ANCIENT VOICES AT SCOTTS BLUFF By Vonn McKee

"MITCHELL PASS" by William Henry Jackson

At the end of a recent trip to Wyoming, I decided to ramble over to western Nebraska and investigate Scotts Bluff National Monument. I have a couple of short works in progress set in the area and needed to see and smell it for authenticity’s sake.

     Scotts Bluff, named for a fur trader who died at its base, is actually a chain of sandstone/limestone rock formations covering 3,000 acres and towering 800 feet above the North Platte River. It’s a spot rich in history. From 1860 to 1861, Pony Express riders thundered by every ten days or so. 

     Between 1841 and 1869, some 350,000 people traveling the Oregon Trail squeezed through Mitchell Pass–with only sixty feet of clearance– in the shadow of majestic Eagle Rock, the southernmost peak of the bluffs. Westbound pioneers would have seen the pale hulk of Scotts Bluff for days before they reached it. It was an important landmark; it meant that they were a third of the way to Oregon and the prairie was about to give way to mountain ranges.

     It’s interesting to note that Mormon emigrants traveled and camped on the opposite, northern bank of the Platte, to avoid unpleasant encounters with those who opposed them. For that reason, the Mormon Pioneer Trail parallels the Oregon Trail for much of its length.

'THE HILL THAT IS HARD TO GO AROUND"

     Of course, the Native American tribes in the area had known about Scotts Bluff for a long time, although they may have had mixed feelings about its significance. Their name for it was “Me-a-pa-te,” or “hill that is hard to go around!”

     Scotts Bluff has been managed by the National Parks Service since 1919. The Civilian Conservation Corps constructed an access road during the 1930s. The drive to the top of the bluffs is dramatic, beginning with a lazy arc across the plains, then rising steeply through outcroppings and passing through three tunnels carved in the sandstone cliffs. (I recommend that you postpone enjoying the breathtaking view of the plains until after you’ve negotiated the switchbacks and are safely parked at the top!)

     Hiking trails allow visitors a closer look at geological features and vegetation. Numerous overlooks afford sweeping views of the plains and another rocky area known as the Badlands, lesser to those located in South Dakota. The Oregon Trail Museum and Visitor Center, located at the park entrance, provides a wealth of historical and scientific resources, along with some gorgeous oil paintings by noted Western artist William Henry Jackson.

     While it’s always fascinating to walk in the footsteps of our pioneer forefathers, sometimes the line between present and past feels mysteriously blurred. As I hiked up the rocky trail to the overlook, I stopped to take pictures of a determined little pine tree that had contorted itself into existence in the rocky ground. As its branches swayed in the wind, I heard what sounded like a faraway song…but only for a few seconds. As the breeze ebbed, I heard it again and, this time, it sounded like a chant––a Native American chant.

     I was sure I’d become weak-minded from altitude sickness, but just as I gave up on hearing the chants, they drifted by once more. I crawled up on a flat boulder and looked eastward down into the valley. I saw a grouping of buildings next to a large grassy park, roughly the shape of a baseball field. It was packed with people…and, even at that distance, I could see that most of them gathered in a circle. The chants drifted up again. A pow wow!

     Later, I drove past the Legacy of the Plains Museum and confirmed that my first visit to the summit of Scotts Bluff had coincided with the closing ceremonies of the Lakota tribe’s Circle the Bluffs Pow Wow, or wacipi, as the natives call it. How lucky can a writer girl be?

     Of course, I left with an overflowing well of inspiration. While I do all my writing from a converted bedroom office in the southeastern United States (at least, for now), I try to make the most of trips out west. Stories emanate from the land and the people of a place. I take hundreds of pictures, talk to locals, and drive down backroads. I have learned the hard way how to identify roads on the map that peter out into gravel. I’ve been known to sneak pine cones and bags of rocks into my carry-on bags. You do what you have do to make the West come alive in your writing!

MODEL OF AN OXEN-POWERED PRAIRIE SCHOONER (EAGLE ROCK)

 Learn more about Scotts Bluff National Monument at www.nps.gov/scbl.

                                                           

                                                           All the best,

                                                           Vonn

Vonn McKee
“Writing the Range”

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2015 WWA Spur Finalist (Short Fiction)
2015 Western Fictioneers Peacemaker Finalist (Short Fiction)