Before leaving Meeker, I learned of a canyon that has some petroglyphs, as well as good scenery, but is in a remote corner of the state. Checking with the local BLM office, I was told the road through the canyon was gravel, but good enough for driving the motor home. I decided to take the risk and go out of my way to see Irish Canyon.
Arriving at the canyon, I saw a BLM kiosk identifying the petroglyph location. It showed a series of boulders along a 1/4 mile trail and
indicated the petroglyphs are Fremont culture, dating back approximately
1600 years. Because the boulders are in the open, the art has been affected by weathering. Incidentally, the canyon supposedly got its
name because three Irish guys robbed a saloon in Rock Springs and hung
out in this canyon until all the stolen whiskey was gone.
As it turned out, the road through the canyon, about twenty miles of gravel, was well maintained and suitable for motor home driving. It was also quite scenic, with walls up to 1500 feet high.
Soon I was on a paved road in Wyoming, bound for Rock Springs. Having visited this town before, there wasn't a lot I wanted to do this trip. However, I did go to the historic downtown area to grab a few photos.
Rock Springs is a coal mining town and makes no apologies for it. In fact, the town exists only because of its coal deposits. The first coal mine, started by the Union Pacific railroad in 1868 to supply their locomotives, was right in the middle of town. The streets were laid out to accommodate the mines, so they aren't exactly a uniform pattern. Underground mines closed in the 1950s, but strip mining later brought coal back to prominence. The stone monument marks the site of the first mine.
Another monument depicts a miner and a mule struggling to pull a coal tram from the mine. Immigrants from many countries in Europe came here to work the mines.
Mules were eventually replaced by electric coal carts.
An underground walkway for crossing the railroad tracks has been used as an art gallery for works of art created by school children, which I thought was a wonderful idea.
Across the street, I noticed a building that was apparently once a Montgomery Ward department store, now home to a karate academy. Younger readers won't recognize that name, but Montgomery Ward was once a huge retail and catalog sales company based in Chicago. It and Sears-Roebuck were the two largest retailers in the country and sold virtually anything by mail order. Time passed them by, however, and Wards is out of business. Sears is hot on their trail, it seems.
On a past visit, I spent a full day looking for a wild horse herd that roams the Pilot Butte area outside town. With perhaps millions of acres available to them, the horses aren't always easily found. I decided an easier way to see wild horses was to visit the BLM collection pens for the horses gathered each year to keep their numbers in check. The horses are available for adoption and have the reputation of making excellent riding horses, and some even become show horses. The corral closest to the viewing stand had only mares and foals, so those are the ones in my photos.
By the way, when a young Robert Leroy Parker ran away from his Mormon family in Utah because he had gotten into trouble with the sheriff, he came to Rock Springs and began using the name Mike Cassidy, once a good friend of his. Working at a butcher shop, he delivered steaks to local hotels and saloons. One night, a man in a saloon called him Butch, because of his job. The name stuck and the rest is history. Butch Cassidy and the Wild Bunch returned to this area often between robberies, hiding out in Wyoming's badlands.
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