Ed. Note – We are very proud to feature an excerpt from Graham Mott’s book, “Monarch of the Glen” here on The Upland Soul. Read Part 2 here!
A couple of hotels, two large frame stone buildings, a saloon and black-smith shop, a couple of livery stables, a post office, and a dozen or so residences all rejoicing under the glowing name of “Opal” Wyoming greeted our eyes as my son, Russell, and I alighted from the “Portland Special” train on Sunday September 2nd, 1900 on our way from Chicago to the head waters of the Green River on a big game hunting trip.
Low hills of white and red clay many feet thick without vegetation and rock looking as if it had recently spewed from the throat of some huge mud volcano formed the immediate background to the north. A meadow carpeted with coarse grass already touched by frost lay between the railway and low hills to the south.
Through the meadow flowed a small stream which could be seen from the gravel bars along its immediate banks. A growth of willows in the yellow color of autumn bordered the stream and gave testimony to the fact that we were in an elevated valley where frost could be expected almost any month of the year.
Two passengers, besides Russell and myself, stepped off the train in Opal, Wyoming as all of us were bound for the Gros Ventre Lodge. These men were Williams and Pruyn of New York who were on a trip to hunt mountain sheep.
The Commercial Hotel had been recommended to them, and Russell and I followed their guidance. It proved to be a comfortable frame affair like a thousand other hotels in Uncle Sam’s broad domain. The hotel had a front room about twelve by fifteen feet with a stove in the middle, a desk in one corner, and a five- or six-foot long counter, whereupon lay an open register with an ink bottle and a pen at its side. There was a door marked “Washroom,” another “Dining Room,” and a third opening to a stairway leading to the sleeping rooms above.
The hour was one o’clock, well within the timeframe for a Sunday dinner which proved to be good. When that was over, we paid for our seats on the “buckboard,” which left for Cora the following morning at eight o’clock. Russell and I made one or two purchases of forgotten articles, took a walk along the banks of the creek for half a mile or so, and spent the remainder of the day reading and smoking in the hotel office.
This story is continued in the book “Monarch of the Glen: A True Adventure Story of a Big Game Hunt in Wyoming – 1900″ (affiliate link; we earn from qualifying purchases) by Graham M. Mott.
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