Wind on the Gangplank
There was almost no soil in that part of the range - just twelve miles' breadth of rough pink rock. "As you go from Chicago west, soil diminishes in thickness and fertility, and when you get to the gangplank and up here on top of the Laramie Range there is virtually none," Love said. "It's had ten million years to develop, and there's none. Why? Wind - that's why. The wind blows away everything smaller than gravel."
Standing in that wind was like standing in river rapids. It was a wind embellished with gusts, but, over all, it was primordially steady: a consistent southwest wind, which had been blowing that way not just through human history but in every age since the creation of the mountains - a record written clearly in wind - scored rock. Trees were widely scattered up there and, where they existed, appeared to be rooted in the rock itself. Their crowns looked like umbrellas that had been turned inside out and were streaming off the trunks downwind. "Wind erosion has tremendous significance in this part of the Rocky Mountain region," Love said, "Even down in Laramie, the trees are tilted. Old-timers used to say that a Wyoming wind gauge was an anvil on a length of chain. When the land was surveyed, the surveyors couldn't keep their tripods steady. They had to work by night or near sunrise. People went insane because of the wind." His mother, in her 1905 journal, said that Old Hanley, passing by the Twin Creek school, would disrupt lessons by making some excuse to step inside and light his pipe. She also described a man who was evidently losing to the wind his struggle to build a cabin:
He was putting up a ridgepole when the wind was blowing. He looked up and saw the chipmunks blowing over his head. By and by, along came some sheep, dead. At last one was flying over who was not quite gone. He turned around and said, "Baa" - and then he was in Montana.
Book 3: Rising from the Plains, Annals of the Former World, John McFee, paperback, p323
clipped February 1, 2003
Collection: Natural Science
Absolute Silence
As My Breathing Evened Out
A Mere Bristle on the Hog
A Bump on the Head
Canning the Blueberries
Crayfish Chimney
That's the Point of Emotions: Survival
The Trespasser's Eyeshine
Few genes are required
Five Trillion Spiders
Listening
Messing Up Their Results
Roses
Interior of a Settled Korak Yurt
A Siberian dog signal-howl
We Are Clearly a Species Worth Saving
They do not Intrude on Each Other
Troops Endure Blowing Sands and Mud Rain
Wind on the Gangplank
Collection: Word Play