A section of the Santa Fe trail runs through the Cimarron National Grasslands near Elkhart Kansas, a large expanse of semi-desert land covered with sand sagebrush, cactus, and various flowering plants. The Cimarron river flows alongside the trail and during the summer months is usually dry. Huge old cottonwoods line the bank and provide some much needed shade to travelers passing through. The land is mainly flat with gently rolling hills and bluffs that line the valley. This is the old prairie in all its glory. History can be felt here as you travel the same trail that countless travelers have traveled before you, mountain men, settlers, wagon trains, Indian hunters and warriors, cowboys driving cattle, every memory of the old west has seen this trail and made their own journeys along it.
In early June of this year five historical reenactors riding mules and horses recreated a portion of that journey. They made the journey along the same route traveled by countless journeyers before them. Carrying their own food and water and camping in primitive camps they experienced the same brutal heat with temperatures reaching way into the high 90’s and a 13-15 mph wind that sometimes felt like the inside of a convection oven during the day, and dropping back into the 60’s at night, a blessed relief after the heat of the day. Riding the original trail, seeking water wherever it was available for their stock, climbing the bluffs to look over the endless sea of prairie grass, they felt the history of this famous byway. The discomforts all part of the journey.
Way back in pre-quarantine days you could go places and see things and do stuff. I’m talking about actually getting in your car and going to a place and hanging out with other folks without fear of getting some horrible disease that could kill you before you got back home. I’m only going on like this because I like talking about things nostalgic. You know, the good old days.
This event was the wonderful, not to mention beautiful, Christmas Festival held at Bent’s Old Fort located not too far from La Junta on the Arkansas river. It was on the mountain branch of the Santa Fe trail and was a trading post catering to the Southern Cheyenne and Arapaho tribes for buffalo robes. It soon became a headquarters for all the trappers and pilgrims using the Santa Fe trail.
My self-imposed assignment was to attend the Christmas Festival held at the fort a week or so before Christmas and photograph the historical reenactors, decorations, instructive demonstrations of needed skills of the era, and anything else that looked interesting, which turned out to be everything.
The historical reenactors who represented every notable character of the time were particularly interesting. They dressed the part, knew just about everything about the character that were portraying, and actually stayed as residents in the fort the entire time of the festival. They slept in the different areas of the fort and as the temperature at the time was 16 degrees that showed the kind of dedication these folks had. The fort does not have central heating.
One of the great things about this event is that they didn’t just focus on the really well known celebrities of the time but had people who represented the more common folks to give you a more accurate view of the every day workings of the fort and its inhabitants.
The fellow in the image above looked like El Patron an important Spanish title that normally meant he was a huge landowner somewhere nearby the fort, or perhaps he was simply stopping over for the holidays before heading back to his hacienda and family.
The event itself was an incredible achievement for the U.S. National Park service and if there is any justice in the world we may see it again.
Advice. Usually it’s worth exactly what you pay for it. Especially free advice. This is especially true if you read further down in this story. Recently while attending an event titled The Age of the Gunfighter held every once in a while at the Old Cowtown Museum in Wichita Kansas, two old friends were having a conversation. It was mostly a one sided conversation due to the fact that it was held in front of the saloon where the two had been imbibing for the better part of the morning and our man on the right had been doublin up due to coming into a little cash money.
The Age of the Gunfighter event is an event where historical reenactors from all over the country attend as their favorite western character. Wyatt Earp and his wife Josie were represented as well as Cole Younger, The Dalton brothers, Pat Garrett, Billy the Kid, Bat Masterson, U. S. Marshall Bill Tilghman, Luke Short and many more. The ladies of western lore were also on hand, Belle Starr, Margaret Borland, Mag Wood, Lizzie Roberts, Molly B’Dam, Mattie Silks, Poker Alice, Julia Bullete and the notorious Madam, Fannie Porter and others. Everyone stayed in character for the entire event so you could talk to and learn the history and lifestyle of each character.
There were gunfights in the streets, quick draw contests, performances of the beautiful but rowdy dance hall girls, arguments, fist fights of an animated but non lethal nature, murder, mayhem but a serious lack of bad language.
The two men in the picture above, miners who were in town to stock up on supplies, were over heard having a conversation that led to some violent but deadly consequences. Fortunately the eavesdropper had the opportunity to record some of the conversation which is hereby being set down as an admonishment to drinking excessively in the morning and carrying sharp and pointy implements. And also and probably most importantly, taking the advice of a friend as drunk as you are who liked to see some excitement just for the sheer entertainment value of it. The two men, one Feardall J Caster on the left and his cohort Little Billie Hammerstock were heard having the following words.
“Billie, ain’t that Emma Voorstelling standing over there by the Ladie’s Social and Quilting Society hall with Long Jim Pallaton.”
“Yup”
Ain’t she your sweetheart what promised to be true to you til the day she died, or your money ran out?”
“Uh Huh”
And din’t she say that her love for you was as pure as the driven snow and she wouldn’t forsake you for nothin”
“Yup”
Well Ain’t she running her fingers thru Long Jim’s mustache and making big ol frog eyes at him”
“Seems so”
“An isn’t Ol’ Jim pushing down on her bustle just to see how bouncy it is”
“Reckon”
“Long Jim does appear to be looking over here and grinnin’ which I would take as a personal affront if that was my girl. You think you should go say something to him now that he has publicly mocked you.”
“S’pose so”
“Well here then, let me hold your axe for you while you attend to business.
“Nope, I’m gonna need it, back in a minute”
At that point things began to deteriorate at an alarming rate. Our eavesdropper had just enough time to get down behind the water trough when there commenced the loudest screaming, the loudest gunshots, the loudest thunk-like sounds of an axe bein’ wielded, people running, Little Billie Hammerstock yelling due to Emma Voorstelling sticking him in the eye with her hat pin, and all that happening before Wyatt got there to put things to rest with his sawed off 12 gauge.
One ironic twist of fate was that Wyatt’s second barrel went off sort of by accident in the direction of where Feardall was leaning up against the porch railing laughing like there was no tomorrow and permanently cured him of over indulging. And advice giving.
It appears the moral of the story, if there is one, is Don’t be givin’ no advice that weren’t asked for and Don’t be taking it if you been in the saloon all morning. And leave your sharp pointy axe thing by your pack mule. And don’t have no truck with dance hall girls even if they make promises to you. There’s probably more to the moral but that’s all we can get out of it right now. Feel free to draw whatever wisdom you can from it tho.
When the Old Cowtown museum holds another The Age of the Gunfighter event you should attend. If you like the old west you’ll love this, just don’t ask for any advice you don’t want.
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