Richard’s Gap, part 4

Scroll down for Part 3.

 

Does anyone remember this?

Anyone who went to visit us for any length of time probably at least heard about Bill Pidgeon.  Let’s just say that I was always positive that while riding my bike- with my back to the road leading to his grave, that there would be a headless horseman coming after me.  A little dramatic, yes.  Typical of me, yes.  We all loaded up into the cabs of the two trucks and went on a little adventure.  The roads were washed out really bad and on several occasions we (mom and I) were screaming and panicking because we were sure the truck was about to tumble into certain destruction.  But the drivers were much more confident in their own and the trucks’ abilities.  And they checked out the bad spots before deciding to continue.  I didn’t really get any good pictures of the washed out parts.  I was probably too worried and doubtful.  There were several spots, some much worse than this.  At least I think they were.  But then again, I’m a little dramatic and tend to exaggerate.

   

I don’t remember this little valley just before the grave being so beautiful.  I actually don’t remember it even being there.  But that’s probably because I was always so scared when we going there, usually to show cousins and have Dad tell “The Story.”

 

Afterwards, there were some antelope running along as we drove down the dirt path. 

While these trees still look small, they are actually quite large.  You can see them from where we lived and I always thought of them as bonsai trees.

 

I can never seem to get a good shot of the moon when I’m really trying, but I can get a decent one while bouncing along a rough path and randomly shooting. 

 

Another scary part on the way home.  We had to wait for a while for them to walk quite a bit and see if we could make it and go the full loop, or if we needed to turn around and go back the way we came.  Luckily, it wasn’t too bad and they did great!

 

So, what is the story of Bill Pidgeon, you ask?  This version is a little different than the one Dad’s always told, but essentially all of the facts are the same.  The main point being that he was headless.  Hence the terror filled bike rides.  Or over-imaginative-induced bike rides.  What’s funny is that when we went there, I had no fear this time.  I think I’ve grown, as has my understanding of a lot of things.

This history is taken from http://www.prospector-utah.com/brown.htm.   It actually has a lot of information about the area and is interesting (I didn’t read it all, partly because of the very distracting and annoying background.)  It also has some cool pictures of Brown’s Park…including….get ready….the Swinging Bridge!  You’ve got to check it out!  Just click on the pictures button at the top of the page.  Anyway, on to the story…

Site - 4 CHEROKEE BILL PIGEON'S GRAVE

Cherokee Bill Pigeon was a Cherokee Indian from Oklahoma, and a one-time member of the Dalton Gang, who had fled to Brown's Park after killing a man in a gunfight in the Nations. For a time he lived at Little Hole with the Tom Crowley Gang, where they distilled whiskey to sell to the Indians on the reservation at Fort Hall, Idaho, until driven out of Little Hole by Cleophas J. Dowd, who claimed it as his range.

Cherokee Bill was a some-time member of several local gangs thereafter, notably the Bassett Gang, led by impetuous young Ebb "Kid" Bassett. He was a friend of John "Judge" Bennett, until that erstwhile companion was hanged from the gatepost of the Bassett Ranch by an irate mob for assisting Harry Tracy, Dave Lant, and Pat Johnson, after the murder of Brown's Park rancher Valentine Hoy in 1898.

Pigeon had a falling-out with young Ebb Bassett and moved into the sheep-wagon of another friend in a little valley northwest of Clay Basin, which has since been known as Pigeon Basin in his memory. He got into an argument with the sheepherder, who summarily shot him to death, his body falling out of the sheep-wagon and over the wagon-tongue. After an inquest, the body was buried on a nearby knoll.

That was not the end of Cherokee Bill Pigeon's story, however. Ebb Bassett, who was feeling irate about being cheated out of his revenge upon Pigeon, for real or imagined wrongs, found a posthumous vengeance. A Rock Springs doctor had offered a reward for a human skull to complete a skeleton he was constructing for display purposes. Kid Bassett saw his opportunity. He rode to Pigeon Basin, dug up Cherokee Bill's body, and cut off the head.

Carrying the severed head in a gunny-sack, Bassett stopped at Jesse Ewing's old abandoned cabin and put the grisly relic into a pot on the stove, to boil away the skin. While waiting, Bassett took a blanket outside and spread it beneath a cedar tree and lay down in the warm sunshine to take a nap.

Meanwhile, four or five of Bassett's friends rode up Jesse Ewing Canyon from Brown's Park, looking for him. Seeing the smoke coming from the cabin, the men stopped and went inside, waiting for Bassett to return. After a while, Ebb Bassett awoke from his nap and sleepily ambled back into the cabin, where his friends awaited, seated at the little wooden table.

"Well, hello, Ebb," said Joe Davenport, one of the men. "We helped ourselves to some of your soup; hope you don't mind!"

 

I couldn’t really find any other information online about it but I just want to say again, how much I enjoyed being there in the wide, open spaces.  It was great!

We had some Smore’s  later that night after some yummy burgers and hot dogs. 

  

The next morning, we got packed up and some of us caught the Dutch John Ward on our way home.  Good times!