The next campaign was for money to build a bridge over the Belle Fourche River. By 1916, when the local families gathered at the Tower for another July Fourth picnic, it seemed that Congress would never appropriate money to turn the place into a proper public resort. A petition to Wyoming’s Congressman Frank W. Mondell complaining about washed out trails and difficult access to the Tower was circulated among the 1916 picnickers and may have done some good. The next year, the newly created National Park Service directed the building of an entrance road, soon to be improved again for auto traffic. By the end of the 1920s Wyoming’s participation in the national enthusiasm for highway construction was showing results. Old pathways followed by the Sioux, later broadened for buckboard wagon and stagecoach, were now graded and oiled for motorcars. A trip to the West was no longer an expedition of months: cross-country motoring had arrived.
An aerial view discloses the tear-drop shape of the top and the extent of the Great Plains around the Tower.
Through the Depression years from 1931 to 1941 the number of tourists, vacationers, and sightseers tripled at Devils Tower. And in the meantime, an army of unemployed laborers and artisans, organized as the Civilian Conservation Corps, applied themselves to public works projects throughout the country. At last the park received the attention its admirers said it deserved. CCC workers built new roads over an access bridge only a few years old. Overnight campgrounds were landscaped and picnic areas were provided with tables and benches. Formal walking trails were made for orderly hiking excursions around the base of the Tower. Water and electrical systems were installed, and in 1935 a museum was built out of rough-hewn logs. The museum, filled with exhibits, still stands at the foot of Tower Trail and serves as a summer visitor center, book sales outlet, and registration office for climbers.
Ask the average traveler to Devils Tower for his or her impressions and invariably two things come to mind, or, more properly, stand tall. One is the immutable, immobile Tower; the other is the animated, lively prairie dog. The national monument has become one of several reserves for this beleaguered plains inhabitant, whose communal lifestyle is profiled in Part 2 of this handbook. Like the Tower, it is misnamed, but so fixed is it in our minds and experience that it will likely always remain so. Subjected to eradication campaigns throughout the plains area because of conflicts with livestock enterprises, these otherwise personable rodents are protected here at Devils Tower National Monument.
The visitor conveniences that were so long in coming to Devils Tower are now enjoyed by nearly 300,000 persons every year. They come for mid-June’s display of wildflowers, or mid-September’s fall colors. They come to challenge themselves in the tradition of William Rogers and Willard Ripley. They come to watch the prairie dogs bustle about in near-parody of our own busyness. But most of all the Tower inspires a swing-by on the way east or west, prompting some travelers to tarry for a day or two on this pleasant plainsland.
2 Taking a Closer Look
By Greg Beaumont
The Belle Fourche River meanders through northeastern Wyoming, exposing red banks of clay. It crosses the southeastern corner of Devils Tower National Monument near the entrance road.