Jail Time

July 21-22

Thursday, the 21st, we went to the laundromat and then to prison.

One of the washing machines ate our quarters, so Joanna called the number for help and left a message. Damn, but Roger called her back. She told him the problem, and he showed up a few minutes later to refund the money.

The Wyoming Territorial Prison at Laramie operated for about 30 years before it closed in 1903. It’s the only place where Butch Cassidy did time.

Cassidy, whose real name was Robert Leroy Parker, apparently was a model prisoner and was pardoned in the hopes that he would make good. That didn’t turn out as hoped. 

One prisoner did mend his ways. Clark Pelton was released and stayed in the Laramie area. He started a construction contracting business and then added a lumber yard.

In 1895, he sold lumber to the prison to make the stockade four feet higher.

Parker/Cassidy was in the prison before his Wild Bunch days. He had bought a stolen horse. 

There is photo of him without the bowler and mustache that was taken when he entered the prison. 

There’s an extensive Butch Cassidy exhibit in the prison building. Thdere’smore, in fact, about Butch Cassidy at the Laramie prison than there is about Tom Horn in all of Cheyenne. They even have a documentary from the History Channel.

The most famous photo of Cassidy was taken in a photo studio, along with the Harry Longabaugh (a.k.a. the Sundance Kid) and three other associates. 

According to the video program running in the exhibit, the photographer put a print in his window to advertise his skill.

A passing lawman recognized one of the outlaws in the photo, and that was the beginning of the end for the Wild Bunch. When the Wild West got too hot for them, Cassidy and the Sundance Kid disappeared. 

They went to Argentina, where they ranched for a few years. Somehow the Pinkertons got a letter that Cassidy sent to a family member in the States.

They were on the run again and wound up getting trapped in a mining town in Bolivia. There was a gun battle that ended when Cassidy shot  Longabaugh and then himself.

The prison is partly restored, partly original. There is a horse-drawn Paddy wagon outside. Inside some of the cells have been preserved. They are very small. Joanna took a photo of somebody whose nose didn’t fit.

The prisoners were put to work building some of the structures, including the warden’s house. They also operated a broom factory, which has been restored. 

Furniture making was introduced when a joiner from Scandinavia was sent to the penitentiary. On display are a table that he carved and a church pew bench made by other prisoners.

After the prison closed, the site was given to the University of Wyoming, which raised horses there. The university added a barn, which has some exhibits now, including a temporary one of quilts.

But this isn’t Jacob’s Ladder and Double Wedding Ring, which are beautiful enough. These were created by members of the local quilting organization and are mostly representations of wildlife, prairies, and mountains. Some are abstract, some realistic. 

Quilting techiques were used to create bas beliefs. In one quilt, the buffalo heads come out to look at you.

Best in show was sculptural, a free-standing three-dimensional construction of a hummingbird sipping from a flower.

We went to dinner at Lovejoy’s on Grand Street. The menu was short, but the food good. Joanna had two appetizers: poststickers and Kobe beef sliders. I had a bison burger. 

The taps were all Altitude beers, but I don’t know that the two businesses are affiliated. 

I had a pale ale, the altbier, and no complaints.

Actually, I had most of a pale ale. The glass was wet, and I picked it up carelessly. 

It slipped through my fingers. The ale didn’t completely spill, but splashed when it hit the table. No harm done and only a little beer lost.

On Friday, Joanna needed to buy a greeting card, so we went downtown to the Curiosity Shop. 

A block of Second Street and the stretch of Grand Avenue where Lovejoy’s is were closed for a street market. There are signs on those blocks forbidding parking every Friday afternoon, so this could be a weekly thing.

The parking ban kicks in at 1 p.m. Somebody didn’t make it back in time so a policeman was writing a ticket as we walked by. It was a Wyoming plate, so I guess it was a fair bust.

Most of the merchandise wasn’t produce, like a farmer’s market, but baked goods, candy, cheese, and other prepared foods, as well as local art work and crafts. 

We walked a bit farther and came to a small plaza with some historical information about Laramie, in a map set in concrete.

A block to the south, on Garfield Street, was the Bucket of Blood Saloon, where in 1868 a gang of vigilantes dragged three guys out and hanged them. This action seriously discouraged rowdiness in town.

The first automobile made in Wyoming was built in 1898 by Elmer Lovejoy. I wonder if Lovejoy’s is named for him, or if he still has family in town. 

The most colorful neighborhood in Laramie consists of tiny houses painted in the bright colors of San Francisco Victorians. One even has gingerbread trim.

My vote for best stenciled graffiti is the picture of the day.

A long narrow park not far from the triple hanging site, includes the original Laramie railroad depot. It’s a museum now. I could see through the window that exhibits included picks, shovels, and lanterns, so I suggested we not go in.

I like museums, especially art collections like the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam, or the Ringling in Sarasota. My fascination with gangsters took me to the Territorial Prison yesterday.

But one of my summer jobs 50 years ago in my college days was working on a Ewing Township road gang. So I don’t need to see picks and shovels in a museum.

We picked up our dry cleaning and came back to the hotel to rest.

We took dinner at the Altitude again because it has the best menu we’ve seen in town. We have been checking for alternatives on the Internet.

Joanna had a pork chop rubbed with brown sugar. I had a sirloin. Both came with mashed potatoes and grilled vegetables. 

I ordered from the seasonal beer menu a very good IPA and then, for an experiment, an unfiltered Czech-style Pilsner, which was billed as being bitter. 

The IPA was not overly fragrant but very tasty nonetheless,. In fact, Joanna drank part of it. 

The Pilsner was better than most I’ve had, but still had that Pilsner flavor in there that I don’t crave. If they were out of all their ales, that would be the beer I’d order.

We stopped at Safeway. where I picked up a large bottle of New Belgium Fat Tire, an amber ale. I’m working on that now and starting to unwind all the way.

I have five-hour run tomorrow to Vernal, Utah.

I don’t know what to expect there. It’s close, though, to Dinosaur National Monument, which is why I’m going to Utah at all.

What can go wrong? No beer? Wow, that’s pretty scary.

OK, gang. I have more beer to drink and no more lies to tell.

Happy trails to all and to all a good night.

Harry