The Devils Tower: Close encounters with America's National Monument

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This was published 7 years ago

The Devils Tower: Close encounters with America's National Monument

By Julie Miller
Sunset at Devils Tower in Wyoming.

Sunset at Devils Tower in Wyoming.Credit: Getty Images

"Hypothetically, what if the car breaks down on the way out?" my friend Katherine asks. "I guess we get abducted by aliens," I reply. "And probed."

We are standing at the base of Devils Tower, a bizarre geological formation that rises 1559 metres above the Black Hills in north-eastern Wyoming like a giant, protruding tooth. Neither of us can take our eyes off the monolith – it's almost like it has a magnetic pull, drawing us closer, luring us into the vortex.

Little wonder film director Steven Spielberg chose it as the location for the climactic alien invasion in his 1977 UFO blockbuster, Close Encounters of the Third Kind. It's easy to imagine a mothership hovering above, pulling in hapless victims powerless against the greater forces of the universe.

Devils Tower during the day.

Devils Tower during the day.Credit: Getty Images

It's also understandable why the igneous intrusion – declared America's first National Monument in 1906 – is considered a sacred site for Native Americans; like Uluru, its spirituality transcends its imposing physicality.

Now, 111 years after the so-called "conservation president" Teddy Roosevelt recognised the "lofty and isolated rock" as "an extraordinary example as to the effect of erosion in the higher mountains", a controversy simmers as more than a dozen Native American tribes request that it officially be renamed "Bear Lodge".

Chief Arvol Looking Horse of the Great Sioux Nation has said that the name Devils Tower is offensive, suggesting that sacred rituals performed on the tower for centuries were a form of devil worship. Apparently, a guide working for Lieutenant Colonel Richard Dodge during a scientific expedition in 1875 misinterpreted the Lakota name for the rock, Bear Lodge, as Bad God's Tower – and somehow this became Devils Tower.

"Our name change proposal was submitted because from the formal naming of the national monument in 1906, both white and Native American historians have consistently stated that this site is considered a holy mountain and that this name is both incorrect and perceived as derogatory," Chief Looking Horse said in a statement.

For an Australian who had no trouble coping with the name change of Ayres Rock to the Indigenous Uluru, this petition seems reasonable. Indeed, the Northern Plains Indian creation story – that its sides were ripped to shreds by the talons of a giant grizzly chasing some children – is far more evocative than any geological explanation.

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In recognition of its cultural significance, Native American interpretive guides are employed by the National Park Service to explain to tourists the significance of the site, which is still used as a place of worship by the Lakota Sioux.

"Most of the ceremonies that take place here are small groups or individuals who gather for prayer, pipe ceremonies or vision quests," Nancy Stimson, chief of interpretation and education, tells us as we walk the two-kilometre pathway around the base of the monument.

"Group rituals also take place, including sweat lodge and sun dance ceremonies. These are usually not public events – they require a special use permit from the park. Sometimes intense quiet and solitude take place during the ceremonies."

Stimson points to a pair of rock climbers, dangling precariously a third of the way up the blade-like furrows, and explains that this popular activity, too, is cause for concern.

"Some Native Americans also consider it sacrilege to climb the tower; though having said that, others climb themselves," she says. "We do ask climbers to refrain from doing so during the month of June, though, as it's a culturally significant month."

"Ah … it's June now," I say. "And people are still climbing?"

"It's voluntary," Stimson says. "And many climbers see their sport as a spiritual pursuit. It's really up to the individual."

It's a valid point that one person's hobby may be another's religion and regardless of one's stance on this controversial issue, there's no doubting the awe and wonder the tower inspires in the hearts of anyone fortunate enough to visit.

And hey, even the aliens are curious.

TRIP NOTES

MORE INFORMATION

rmi-realamerica.com

GETTING THERE

United Airlines flies from Sydney to Los Angeles or San Francisco, with domestic transfers to Denver. See united.com

From Denver, hire a car through DriveAway Holidays, taking Interstate 25 north via Cheyenne and Casper before turning off onto I90 towards Spearfish. Devils Tower is 53 kilometres north of Moorcroft off Highway 14.

VISITING THERE

A one to seven day vehicle pass into Devils Tower National Monument is $13. See nps.gov/deto/

The writer travelled as a guest of Rocky Mountain International.

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