Gros Ventre Slide of 1925 looking south across Gros Ventre River |
I visited a curious part in Wyoming yesterday, so unlike the rugged Wind River and Teton Ranges, yet near them—east of the Tetons and north of the Winds. The area was known for centuries as having minor earth tremors and small landslides, and was considered by some to be spooky.
Slide of 1925, 95 years after, huge rocks still showing |
But in 1925 it drew national attention for a massive landslide along the Gros Ventre River, pronounced "grow-vont." Within fifteen minutes, a mass of rocks, soil and trees slid from the south canyon wall, rumbled across the river and didn’t stop before going three hundred feet up the other side. The slide was a mile long, half a mile wide, and left a dam across the river 225 feet high. Geologists think that a shale layer became slippery and allowed everything above it to slide.
Tensleep Sandstone in the rubble |
Tensleep Sandstone in the rubble |
End of the rubble 300 feet up the far bank |
A slide of this magnitude did not occur in previous millennia, probably because the Gros Ventre River had not cut through the Amsden Shale, removing the one holding force against a slide.
Slide Lake, looking upstream |
Slide Lake, looking downstream, Slide scarp in background |
The lake created upstream by the slide, Slide Lake, is still here and is still held in place by material from the 1925 slide. But it was not always so. Two years after the slide, part of the dam was over-topped sending a tremendous flood rushing three miles down the canyon, wiping out the small town of Kelly, killing six people. But in the past ninety-three years the dam has held.
On another day, I
stood at the foot of another kind of slide.
I imagined a gigantic wall of ice that was the leading edge of a
glacier. Perhaps it moved to where I
stood sometime in a past ice age, then hesitated and retreated, only to move
downward again as climate changed. In
one of its retreats it delivered this boulder, as part of its accumulated baggage, brought from far upstream, as if delivering it to me for my perusal and pleasure. The glacier might have slid forward and
melted backward several times before finally depositing this particular
boulder, but eventually its retreat became a final motion, and the glacier was
finished. The rock slide remains.
Michael Angerman is
making a map of nightly locations, as he has done for many of my trips. Please see Michael's Map
That’s it! That’s it! “End of the Rubble - The Adventures of Inspector Sharon Stone.” Either the name is your next novel or a reality based television series. You can play off that other Stone’s fame. 😀. I do wonder why you couldn’t find the culprit shale which supported the theory Is there a poem here somewhere below the sediment?
ReplyDelete“End of the Rubble - The Adventures of Inspector Sharon Stone.” That other - "The Flintstones" ??
DeleteThe shale is probably under all the other disheveled junk pile of rocks, trees, squirrels and fishermen--poor devils.
Last time I was there was when there was a lot of smoke. Thank you for showing me what I missed. Lyrical too.
ReplyDeleteThank you Sharon for sharing your experiences.
ReplyDeleteHere a just snapped, barely, view from distant LA:)
The Mysterious Lives of Rocks
Rocks just like leaves move
down the mountains
not with wind but ice
taking eons to slowly advance
a meter on an abandoned prairie,
eventually exposed under a hot sun.
At times huge blankets of ice return
tuck them up in cozy whiteness,
gear for another unhurried waltz
lasting centuries until another Age
shows up to undress them without
modesty. The next one arrives,
like a lost sleepy uncle, sinks
them into a Snow-White Dream,
quiet, pure and cold as stones
round their rough edges.
Unhappy animals retreat south,
surrender to the idea of exile,
begin massive migrations
in search of new grasses,
feed their calves, find mates
continue the survival cycle
humans inhabit with Sharon’s
grounded imagination as the prophet.
Alicia, I am so happy that you were inspired to write this. You have captured the essence of glacial advance and retreat, of ice moving rocks downhill on each advance, leaving them as it retreats. And how the glacier, being supremely powerful, forces animals to adapt to its movements or die. And you make the rocks seem almost human in their cozy whiteness, then undressed without modesty by almighty ice.
DeleteI think you could leave out the last three words—“as the prophet.” My imagination is indeed of the ground (grounded), but my prophecies are not always reliable.
Aren’t there prophets that don’t prophesize? OK, perhaps “leader,” this title sure fits. ❤️
DeleteGlad you like it¡