Wyoming and the Code of the West

Last March the Wyoming legislature passed senate file 51. This bill, while not a true law as much as it is a suggestion has been both admired and critized. Some say it makes those of us who live in Wyoming look like a bunch of hicks, others say, yes, this is what we are all about.

Here it is - The Code of the West, bill.

Adapted from the book, "Cowboy Ethics," by James P. Owen

-The code includes-


1. Live each day with courage
2. Take pride in your work 3. Always finish what you start
4. Do what has to be done
5. Be tough, but fair
6. When you make a promise, keep it
7. Ride for the brand
8. Talk less, say more
9. Remember that some things are not for sale
10.Know where to draw the line

The Code of the West, alive and Well in Wyoming –click here to watch a great four minutes of Wyoming.

http://www.vimeo.com/7931683

Laramie Wyoming

What a crazy place I live in.
No, not that way crazy, but a crazy name.

Laramie, named after a French-Canadian trapper, Jacques LaRamie. He came to Wyoming Territory to trap no earlier than 1816 and was killed by the Arapaho in the winter of either 1818 or 1819. According to Jim Bridger who came to the area a few years later LaRamie was well liked and respected as an honest trader by Indians of the area.

So why was he killed? No one knows but likely for whatever possessions he had with him at the time. And no one can say with absolute certainty that it was Arapaho who killed him, although most stories back up this belief.
Today the city of Laramie is named after him along with: Laramie Peak, the Laramie Plains, and the Laramie Range of the Rockies, Laramie County (Home of Cheyenne, Wyoming’s state capital), the Laramie River, the Little Laramie River, and maybe others I cannot think of right now.

So what did he do that warranted naming more things after him than any other person except James Bridger? No one knows, but Laramie City was a true wild and wooly Wild West town in the late 1860s when the railroad first came to town. Jacques LaRamie, a true symbol of the times long past seemed to be a fitting name for an area changing so rapidly.

LaRamie was a pioneer, trapper, explorer and trader in this area and we don’t even know his real name. There were many Jacques with French last names during this time in history so somewhere along the way historians assigned him Jacques as his first name. LaRamie may have been one of many trappers who went by only one simple name (and to think people today think, Elvis and Cher came up with this idea). Not sure why historians thought he needed anything other than just LaRamie.

-N-

Merry Christmas With Only One Mishap

Christmas is over and I am sitting in my recliner playing with my brand new Kindle. All four kids and all seven grandkids made it. BUT as always there had to be a mishap and this one was a dozy. Our four year old granddaughter broke her leg sledding. It was our second day on the hill (yesterday) she is a tough little kid but when she said she needed to go to the doctor we knew it was hurting. Now it is all cast up (hip to foot) and in about eight weeks she will be as good as new. Thank God for grandkids, good doctors and quick healing for four year olds.

Peno and the Bear

Some stories are just too good to let die. The following story came from the trapper/mountain man period of Wyoming history (1820-1840s). Tall tales made for great sitting around the fire conversations and fun. One of my favorites and one of many nearly lost tails is the story of, “Peno and the Bear”. Like so many other stories old timers would, “swear” this one is true. Whether it is true or only a tail to pass a long winter night I hope it will not go away. Following is my version of the story.

-PENO AND THE BEAR-

A Canadian trapper named Peno, short on powder and ball, shot a bull buffalo with a light load, wounding but not killing or dropping the animal. The stunned buffalo charged Peno goring his horse to death and breaking the trapper’s leg. In the process Peno lost his rifle, food and possible, but not his senses. He was able to crawl into heavy brush and lucky for him the buffalo lost interest in the mess he created and left.

Peno crawled for hours, intent on reaching a large Indian village he had passed a few days back. Hungry and in shock he finally reached the creek that today bears his name. Along the way he ate as many choke cherries as he could reach and upon reaching the stream drank his fill before blacking out.

When Peno awoke a huge silver tip Grizzly stood over him. Peno did the only thing he could think of—he played dead. After what seemed like an eternity the old trapper opened one eye only to see the bear still waiting. Then a strange thing happened, the bear held out a front paw as if wanting to shake hands. Figuring, why not, Peno took the bear’s paw in his hand and immediately saw a huge festering spot on the soft pad of the bears paw. By this time Peno believed he had nothing to lose, he took out his Green River Knife. Very carefully he removed a long tangled sliver from the bears paw. Once the surgery was complete the bear laid down a few feet from Peno and fell asleep.

Peno knew it was time to exit and he moved away, even trying to walk with the aid of a piece of a cottonwood limb he used as a staff. Over the next few days every time Peno stopped to rest or sleep the bear was near, sometimes within a few feet. Peno took to talking to the bear and danged if it didn’t seem like the bear understood.

After a few days Peno reached the village looking down on it from a sage brush hill less than a half mile away. Now that the trapper was safe the bear held up his fast healing paw to say goodbye, turned and disappeared.

Although this is purportedly a trapper tale it very much sounds like a teaching story, maybe for young Indian children. It may have taught the age old idea of everything, including animals and people, having a good side no matter how ferocious or bad they may seem.

10 things a cowboy says that might be hard to believe

• I won this buckle in a rodeo
• I walk better in boots
• This time I really gave up the Copenhagen
• I wear my jeans this tight for safety on the ranch reasons
• I try to watch what I eat – not too many fried foods please
• Not too much coffee I’ve had enough
• My pickups paid for
• My hat-oh-that ol’ thing
• Never lost money on a horse
• Wife never says a thing when I stay out this late

Thinking About Home and Wild Bill Hickok

The legend of Wild Bill Hickok began just outside my hometown at a place called Rock Creek station. (Southeast Nebraska) It was here that Wild Bill, by his own account, killed single handedly, nine members of a blood thirsty, cut throat McCanles Gang. Dime novels of the day led to it being called the greatest one man gunfight in American history. A battle Hickok survived with eleven bullet wounds.
What a story – how much of it is true –probably not much.
• Hickok became famous later and the facts changed after he became bigger than life. History forgot that he was charged with murder and released after a trial lasting a few minutes.
• Also his nickname changed from Duck Bill to Wild Bill, likely at his insistence, maybe at the point of a pistol if you insisted on calling him Duck Bill
• There never was a McCanles gang although David McCanles himself was a bully and not liked or missed by many.
• People who saw Hickok soon after the battle reported he had no wounds after the fight.
Anyway, so goes the tight line separating truth from fiction in the old west. Wild Bill went on to become a legend throughout the west. Including right here in Wyoming where he spent some time.

Good Old Snow and More Snow

Why is it that every time it snows a few inches the city is able to find enough snow to pile a foot or more into my driveway? By the way for those of you in warm weather areas – I have shoveled the snow from my walks and drives seven times so far this fall and winter. It is pretty but lately I see it only as pretty heavy, pretty hard work, pretty slick, pretty cold, pretty high heating bills and pretty annoying but we still love it.

The Thief, the Legend and a Pair of Shoes

Big Nose George Parrott was a petty crook, horse thief and stage coach robber in Wyoming during most of the 1870s. He made a few local headlines but longed for more, both money and fame. Gangs he rode with were not famous like Butch Cassidy’s Wild Bunch or the James Gang, two groups he rode with many years after his death in dime novels and writers dreams. Now the fame he sought while robbing stage coaches and hardware stores has finally become part of his legend. Today he is famous, at least in Wyoming, but maybe not for what he wanted. There are so many versions of his train or attempted train robbery in Wyoming that it is often hard to believe any of them. So like all writers I choose to put together parts of the many stories and come up with my own. (I may have also thrown in a few of my own ideas.)
Big Nose George and his gang of two, Sim Jan and Frank McKinney had started to tear up a small section of railroad track near Medicine Bow Wyoming. The three were so content on working that they did not see an official of the railroad checking track. Once he and the outlaws spotted each other the official high tailed it back to the office and wired for help. While he ran back east to the office the outlaws ran south and west toward the mountain side hamlet of Elk Mountain.
Railroad official Tip Vincent and Carbon county Deputy Sheriff Robert Widdowfield soon caught up with the outlaws. A good old west shot out ensued with Big Nose and the gang killing both Widdowfield and Vincent. Widdowfield reportedly taking a shotgun blast in the face and Vincent shot in the back tiring to get away.
It took three years but the law finally caught up with up with Big Nose George Parrott in Montana and he was taken back to the city of Rawlins in Carbon County Wyoming for trial. Within days he attempted to escape but he was no better at this than train robbing and he never got outside the jail house building. The people of Rawlins, although a good humor bunch did not find this funny. Within hours he was ripped from the jail by a mob of 200 and lynched.
This should have been the end of the line for Big Nose George but in his unusual case we’re just getting warmed up. The body was given to a local doctor and his apprentice who attempted a crude autopsy sawing off the top of Parrots head in search of some type of outlaw lobe in his brain. Not sure if they found much of anything—see bungled robbery and escape above. But the story still does not end. Will it ever?
Big Nose George was skinned and made into a pair of shoes a small bag and according to some a belt and a wallet. The shoes were worn by a local doctor on many special occasions including his own inaugural ball after being elected governor of Wyoming in 1893.
Big Nose George’s body was pickled in salt brine and kept for a year or more in various business places in and around Rawlins Wyoming. Reportedly a favorite game of locals was to take unsuspecting visitors to see the famous Big Nose George—the big game likely went something like this:
“Hey Pard ya ever heard of Big Nose George the outlaw?”
“Sure everyone’s heard of him.”
“Ya wanna see him.”
“Not likely, he’s been dead for years”
The local comic then reaches over opens the wooden whiskey keg reaches in grabs a few parts of ol’ Big Nose and pulls him out of the barrel and starts laughing hysterically. At this point visitor passes out or throws up.
But a year later all the parts of Big Nose George disappeared—until 1950 when a construction project unearthed his bones—Big Nose George was back.

Historical Note—The skull and shoes can still be viewed in a downtown Rawlins Wyoming museum. There was a bag that appeared to be a medical bag but it has not been seen in more than a century. As for the belt and wallet –they may have existed only in legend; if they were real, like the bag they are lost forever.
Personal Note—My wife and I live within an hour’s drive of the train robbery site, my son and his family live on a hill overlooking the train tracks Big Nose tried to tear up just outside of Medicine Bow Wyoming.

Back to Work

Vacation is over for this old school teacher--it was a great break. This will be my 41st year in front of the class. Hope to make,at least,a few more.
-N-

Wonderful Wyoming Weather

Second night in a row I am setting out on the patio enjoying another beautiful Wyoming evening. We pay for it when winter comes but summers are spectacular. Seventy-one degrees, southwest breeze and 27 percent humidity can’t beat it. Last night we sat outside until ten-thirty, put the blankets over us about nine. Temperature went down to 48 last night but back around 80 today.

The Last Gunfight

On Labor Day in 1912, Hartville Wyoming located at the head of Eureka Canyon in Platte County may have been the sight of the last old west main street gun fight. Not much is known about the fight other than two men emptied their revolvers in the general direction of each other and it was all over—no bloodshed. Stories change in a hundred years but the one I like best starts with two cowboys on their day off enjoying a few beers in one of the local bars.
The two punchers argued then took the fight outside. This is where the stories differ—did they really try to kill each other? Some remember the two being at least, “a fair peace apart, maybe too far, when they drew.” Onlookers were not impressed with either cowboy’s quick draw or marksmanship. Locals listed two windows and one hitching rail injured. Reportedly, the would be gunfighters returned to the bar after the high-noon showdown and went back to what they were better at, drinking and swapping lies about how good they were with a gun and a rope. (Maybe they skipped the gun stuff) If one of the bullets had accidentally killed one of the cowboys they could have been buried in Hartville’s Boot Hill Cemetery on the south side of the time hamlet of 40 people.

Snow - I thought it was just about summer

Fact – It snowed here yesterday. Rain first, then hail, then vertical snow followed by hurricane type winds and horizontal snow followed by more vertical snow. Two or three inches in all, isn’t it almost June? Think it might be time for this old boy to look at moving down off this mountain, 7200 feet might be too much for these old bones.

Powwow

Spent some time at the, Keepers of the Fire Powwow, over the weekend, I have always enjoyed the dancing, drums and costumes from these events. Shoshone, Arapaho and Sioux dancers put it all together but there were representatives from other tribes there also. Several venders selling southwestern jewelry and native trinkets and some tasty fry bread and tacos made the day both fun and filling. Although this powwow was inside and at the university if you try hard enough it’s possible to take yourself back to another time, maybe one where everyone was not in such a hurry and took the time to see life and live life.
My favorite part of the day—I bought a nice bracelet for my classroom, Indian crafts display, and the evening opening ceremonies that featured the bringing in of the flag, the victory chant and eighty or so dancers on the floor at one time. All in all, something everyone should do sometime.

A Wyoming Bad Guy - and Kind of Funny

Wyoming bad guy George W. Pike was once accused by a neighbor of stealing a pot of stew cooking on a stove in the wall tent they were temporarily calling home. When the neighbor went to find the town marshal Pike reportedly watched him go then stole the stove the stew had been cooked on. Reportedly there was not enough evidence to convict Pike on either charge. Pike was better known as a horse and cattle thief but was never the less well liked by people in and around Douglas Wyoming. (At least the ones he did not steal from)

George W. Pike (Born around 1863- died 1906)

Grave Stone, Douglas Park Cemetery – Douglas, Wyoming

Underneath this stone in eternal rest
Sleeps the wildest one of the wayward west
He was a gambler and sport and cowboy too
And he led the pace in an outlaw crew
He was sure on the trigger and staid to the end
But he was never known to quit on a friend
In the relations of death all men are alike
But in life there was only one George W. Pike

The Last Old West Gunfight - ?

On Labor Day in 1912, Hartville Wyoming located at the head of Eureka Canyon in Platte County may have been the sight of the last old west main street gun fight. Not much is known about the fight other than two men emptied their revolvers in the general direction of each other and it was all over—no bloodshed. Stories change in a hundred years but the one I like best starts with two cowboys on their day off enjoying a few beers in one of the local bars.
The two punchers argued then took the fight outside. This is where the stories differ—did they really try to kill each other? Some remember the two being at least, “a fair peace apart, maybe too far, when they drew.” Onlookers were not impressed with either cowboy’s quick draw or marksmanship. Locals listed two windows and one hitching rail injured. Reportedly, the would be gunfighters returned to the bar after the high-noon showdown and went back to what they were better at, drinking and swapping lies about how good they were with a gun and a rope. (Maybe they skipped the gun stuff) If one of the bullets had accidentally killed one of the cowboys they could have been buried in Hartville’s Boot Hill Cemetery on the south side of the time hamlet of 40 people.

Thief, Robber and a Pair of Shoes

Big Nose George Parrott was a petty crook, horse thief and stage coach robber in Wyoming during most of the 1870s. He made a few local headlines but longed for more, both money and fame. Gangs he rode with were not famous like Butch Cassidy’s Wild Bunch or the James Gang, two groups he rode with many years after his death in dime novels and writers dreams. Now the fame he sought while robbing stage coaches and hardware stores has finally become part of his legend.

Today he is famous, at least in Wyoming, but maybe not for what he wanted. There are so many versions of his train or attempted train robbery in Wyoming that it is often hard to believe any of them. So like all writers I choose to put together parts of the many stories and come up with my own. (I may have also thrown in a few of my own ideas.)

Big Nose George and his gang of two, Sim Jan and Frank McKinney had started to tear up a small section of railroad track near Medicine Bow Wyoming. The three were so content on working that they did not see an official of the railroad checking track. Once he and the outlaws spotted each other the official high tailed it back to the office and wired for help. While he ran back east to the office the outlaws ran south and west toward the mountain side hamlet of Elk Mountain.

Railroad official Tip Vincent and Carbon county Deputy Sheriff Robert Widdowfield soon caught up with the outlaws. A good old west shot out ensued with Big Nose and the gang killing both Widdowfield and Vincent. Widdowfield reportedly taking a shotgun blast in the face and Vincent shot in the back tiring to get away.

It took three years but the law finally caught up with up with Big Nose George Parrott in Montana and he was taken back to the city of Rawlins in Carbon County Wyoming for trial. Within days he attempted to escape but he was no better at this than train robbing and he never got outside the jail house building. The people of Rawlins, although a good humor bunch did not find this funny. Within hours he was ripped from the jail by a mob of 200 and lynched.

This should have been the end of the line for Big Nose George but in his unusual case we’re just getting warmed up. The body was given to a local doctor and his apprentice who attempted a crude autopsy sawing off the top of Parrots head in search of some type of outlaw lobe in his brain. Not sure if they found much of anything—see bungled robbery and escape above. But the story still does not end.

Will it ever?

Big Nose George was skinned and made into a pair of shoes a small bag and according to some a belt and a wallet. The shoes were worn by a local doctor on many special occasions including his own inaugural ball after being elected governor of Wyoming in 1893.

Big Nose George’s body was pickled in salt brine and kept for a year or more in various business places in and around Rawlins Wyoming. Reportedly a favorite game of locals was to take unsuspecting visitors to see the famous Big Nose George—the big game likely went something like this:

“Hey Pard ya ever heard of Big Nose George the outlaw?”
“Sure everyone’s heard of him.”
“Ya wanna see him.”
“Not likely, he’s been dead for years”

The local comic then reaches over opens the wooden whiskey keg reaches in grabs a few parts of ol’ Big Nose and pulls him out of the barrel and starts laughing hysterically. At this point visitor passes out or throws up.

But a year later all the parts of Big Nose George disappeared—until 1950 when a construction project unearthed his bones—Big Nose George was back.

Historical Note—The skull and shoes can still be viewed in a downtown Rawlins Wyoming museum. There was a bag that appeared to be a medical bag but it has not been seen in more than a century. As for the belt and wallet –they may have existed only in legend; if they were real, like the bag they are lost forever.

Personal Note—My wife and I live within an hour’s drive of the train robbery site, my son and his family live on a hill overlooking the train tracks Big Nose tried to tear up just outside of Medicine Bow Wyoming.

Fact Not Fiction Today--Or Facts as I See Them!

The First Tribal Indian People of Wyoming
Only the rocks and the mountains really know, only the rocks and the mountains have been here long enough to know and they are not saying anything. No one knows when the first tribal type American Indians first settled in Wyoming. We know for sure they were here before John Colter and the trappers came to Wyoming in the early 1800s. It is probable the introduction of the horse was responsible for bringing most of the Indian settlement to Wyoming and populating the state with several language groups of Indians. Most historians would agree only the ancient Sheep Eater tribe lived in Wyoming before the horse became a part of everyday live for the tribes of Wyoming.
Because the horse brought the Indian to Wyoming the Spanish were most responsible for the settlement of Wyoming. The Spanish and their flamboyant leader Francisco Vasquez Coronado, in 1540 explored much of present day Arizona and the American southwest, looking for the famed but mythical Seven Cities of Cibola. They failed to find the magnificent golden riches of the Seven Cites and Coronado turned northeast leading his 300 men to the fabulous area of Quivira in search of riches. After a long and fruitless search they turned back but not until they had reached southeast Nebraska near the present day city of Fairbury. On the way they left behind dozens of horses that would be the beginning of the famous Indian ponies of the plains. Coronado found no riches, instead found poor tribes leading a day to day agriculture existence, often living in crude stick and mud shelters, some tribes, of better hunters seemed a little better off, but no gold, not then and not today.
If all this makes sense then the Indian tribes of Wyoming were not here until much after Coronado introduced horses in the 1540s, best guess, the early 1700s. Indians of early Wyoming had already domesticated the dog and with the horse there were two animals to help with their day to day chores.
For more than a century (early 1700s to early 1800s) these, now indigenous, people roamed free on the plains and in the mountains of Wyoming. They may have experienced the freest existence in the history of the North American continent. Living a nomadic, buffalo hunting life fit these people well and they thrived, until the white men came, forever changing the life of Indians in Wyoming.
More than any group of people since, they respected nature and the powers of nature. Living a simple existence in the world’s first camper, the very mobile teepee, following the vast herds of bison and adding to their diet with antelope, rabbits other game animals and various wild roots, berries and other nourishing plants.
Life among these people could best be described as harsh and often short—but a better life may not exist. Who was first, the Sheep Eaters, as mentioned above, are thought by many historians to have been the first permanent residents of Wyoming and the one group to predate the horse in this area.