Tepee Rings and Oil Stains

The Powder River Basin is one of America's sacrificial lands for our energy needs. Oil derricks, oil and gas pipelines, industrial roads that seem to go nowhere, and the largest open-pit coal mine in the United States. This vast region occupies an area approximately 120 by 200 miles or 24,000 square miles of open prairie, desert, high mountains, isolated buttes and deep rivers. This was home to the Ab-Sa-Ra-Ka or the Crow Indians and remains remote and unknown to much of America. Camping on Casper Mountain near the North Platte the view north remains crisp of the Big Horn Mountains near Montana hundreds of miles away.

Chugwater Country, Western Powder River Basin

The largest coal deposit in the world is mined here. Oil and gas has been produced from this basin for decades and it has become an important resource for Coal Bed Methane and Natural Gas. A century prior to the energy development this was prime real estate for ranching and became the location of one of the most notorious  industrial American wars of the 1800's. The battle grounds for the Johnson County Cattle Wars are here and the legendary Apache-trained assassin Tom Horn served the shadowy purposed of the cattleman in these hills. One of the great hide-outs for the Hole in the Wall Gang remains difficult to access even today.

Geologist, Powder River Basin

We were here with three vans full of clients, geologists from the oil companies who paid for our services in interpreting the rocks that lay deep within the basin. We developed models to define where oil would be found, often two miles deep below the ground surface. We pulled our vans off of the dirt road and got out to survey the surface geology. As our discussion wanned I wandered off to the head of an escarpment with what looked like a promising view. Suddenly I stopped and gazed in earnest at the ground near the edge of the cliff. Rings of stone were laid upon the ground. The largest was at the apex of the cliff faces and had the most commanding view. This would have been where the chief lived. Smaller rings were laid out in two rows each along the two cliff faces. Rings of stone used to hold down the tepees that once lined this hill. They had been left just as they had been in the seasons before. Left for the returning Crow hunting party that never came again.

Bob the Bowling Bear

We awoke early that morning as was our custom even though we had been up most of the night, stargazing and watching the meteor shower. Our tongues had been loosened by the incredible night sky glowing with brilliant starlight and we told stories far into the night. Early meant dawn and all the struggles that go with sore muscles, lack of sleep and the hard ground. The coffee solved most of that as we plunged into our gear and sorted what we would need in our packs for the day.

Stunner Campground from the Ridge

We were headed up a steep drainage, above Stunner Campground, to where the old mine was marked on the map. As was often the case, the mines were no longer associated with any visible road or trail, at least not from the campground. The terrain was typical of the Eastern San Juans, rugged and unforgiving. The drainage marked a slash in the ground that was visible high above treeline as yellow dirt where the erosion fanned out into the rocky ledges above. We humped on the packs and got going as the sun flickered on the ridges above. It would be hot again, at least for a time during the middle of the day.

Tree falls and rocks kept us busy for a time as we ground our way up the steep climb. No time for words as every breath was needed for the thin air. The water splashed along mossy banks tinted with the red and yellow that told us we were on the right track. The abandoned mine tunnel allowed air and water into the mineralized vein weathering iron and other metals that now precipitated on the streams banks and rocks with the telltale patina. The adit had collapsed but timber frames stuck out at weird angles to mark the place that had once been opened as a tunnel into the rock. Water flowed from the spot, orange and yellow coated the vegetation with brightly colored muck.

We set down our packs and begun our work. GPS instrumentation was setup to more precisely map the mine and we carefully began sampling the water and testing its pH, and conductivity. Water from these types of mines typically had low pH and high conductivity attesting to the ionic metal flowing with it. Intent upon our work I suddenly sensed something and looked up. A rock the size of a bowling ball was hurtling through the air straight for us! I yelled "Rock!" and nothing more was needed. We both knew what that meant at the bottom of this ravine with high cliffs above.

Being the trained professionals that we were we both ran into each other and went flying into the creek. This may have saved us as the rock smashed into several flying pieces, striking the ground where we had just been working. Panting along the side of the stream we looked up at the huge bear standing along the ledge some 60 yards or so above us. He was snuffing the air and moving his head about in that characteristic way that bears do as they try to see what they only to well are smelling. "Damned geologists!" He seemed to say as he turned and disappeared from view.

Later that afternoon, after we cleaned up the mess and finished our work, I hiked up the drainage and over to where he had been. His prints were large and he had been above us for a time it appeared by the many tracks. The stones weren't that many here, nor that close to the edge. It looked to me as though he had been purposefully bowling for geologists and had almost gotten two!