While Lacy, Josh, Moose and Amos were heading out to tackle Laramie Peak, Kelsey and I decided on a more modest goal: to finally see the Ayers Natural Bridge, conveniently located right in Converse County, which we've talked about doing every weekend since we got here. Cameras? Check. Coffee? Check. Any actual clue as to where we were going? No! But who cares! Luckily signage was good and we got there with no problem. And then this happened:
No matter. We came to see this bridge and we were going to see it. It's not our fault the website failed to have in big flashing letters "CLOSED UNTIL APRIL."
After a pleasant downhill walk (during which we saw mule deer and curious cows), we arrived at the natural bridge. Apparently, some wonders of nature can be held responsible for accidents. But not this one.
In the course of walking to the bridge, Kelsey noted the caretaker's cottage, with truck parked out front and smoke coming out of the chimney.
We immediately assumed skulking position. Unsure if the penalties of trespassing on park land would be a slap on the wrist or immediate hanging in these parts, we proceeded cautiously, wasting no time getting down to the bank of the river where we were at least somewhat out of sight.
Geology lesson:
“Over the course of millions of years, a bend in LaPrele Creek (originally known as Bridge Creek) wore away at a wall of solid rock, creating a natural opening. The creek eventually shifted course through the opening, forming a 30-foot (10 m) high and 50-foot (15 m) wide arch, today known as Ayres Natural Bridge.
Located about a mile (2 km) south of the Oregon Trail, the Natural Bridge was often visited by emigrants traveling west. It is considered one of Wyoming's first tourist attractions. In 1843, a pioneer described it as ‘a natural bridge of solid rock, over a rapid torrent, the arch being regular as tho' shaped by art.’"
But adventure got the better of us and we knew we had to climb up on the bridge, despite the fact that it would bring us out into the open and closer to the cottage. This was definitely not the right day for me to have worn red.
Getting to the top of the bridge was the only way for us to see the other side without going up to the caretaker’s door and asking for a cup of hot chocolate, but the view was worth it.
Now practiced at trespassing and skulking, we made our way back to the Tahoe. On the way out of the park area, we met Ferdinand, the Bad Luck Bull, and honked at him to get him out of the road.
Just then, I realized my phone was probably back where we parked the car to sneak down to the bridge. D’oh! Since the nearest Sprint store is in Fort F’in Collins (sorry Zach, I mean beautiful Fort Collins, home to microbreweries and the University of Colorado), we turned around. We’ve already driven to Fort Collins once to replace my phone.
Of course, we got stuck. Ferdinand was watching us rev the engine and spin dirt and snow behind us. That’ll show us next time we think about honking at a bull.
Long story short: park invaded, bridge climbed, truck unstuck, phone found, mischief managed.
