La Bonte Bulls

"Elk tracks were everywhere, most half filled with snow the elk having passed through in the night. A few were fresh from that morning, crisp and clear. Things looked good, very good."

- David Darlington

We were driving across southern Wyoming on Interstate 80. Sagebrush and greasewood lined the highway, towering over new snow that grew deeper as we traveled eastward and upward toward the snow-covered Laramie Range.

Images from early manhood floated through my mind: La Bonte Canyon, Curtis Gulch, Blacktail Peak. My son, Kyle, his friend, Coulter, and I had drawn elk permits for the Laramie Peaks, the granitic remnants of an ancient range.

Rock River was the last stop on the highway. We bought gasoline, diesel and coffee; then we turned north on the old wagon road to Fort Fetterman.

Between 1867 and 1882, the fort played a major role in the Indian wars. Green recruits and supplies were offloaded from rail cars at Rock River and transported 100 rough and dusty miles north to Fort Fetterman on the North Platte River. The fort is now a museum, the wagon tracks long since replaced by a graveled crown with borrow ditches.

Our timing was perfect. The three-day blizzard had played out leaving more than a foot of snow in mountains that closed in on us as we made our way north. The road had been opened by local traffic that left deep tire tracks in the snow that we could follow in four-wheel drive.

We wound down past Squaw Place. The name appears on the 1992 Toltec USGS topographic quadrangle. I've never heard the story of Squaw Place. I'm sure there is one. There always is. Today, it is mostly the remains of fallen-down buildings with one newer house.

We took the road down La Bonte Canyon to Curtis Gulch Campground. With only one other group of elk hunters camping at Curtis Gulch, there was plenty of room for us.