Wind River
-Bike trail agate temptations.
The low, slow river water is starting to freeze over—winter is on its way. In fact, it’s forecast to arrive tomorrow. But today? Today is absolutely glorious. The sun is warm, the breeze is gentle, and it feels like the perfect moment for a quick, local adventure.
There’s a place I haven’t visited in ages, though it holds a special place in my childhood memories. Just like that Burma Road spot I mentioned before, this location calls to me. And while Burma Road had its charm, this place? Oh, it was so much more vibrant and full of life.
Back then, rock hunting along the Wind River was a thrill. Unlike the sparse terrace gravel on Burma Road, the river constantly replenished its treasures. Fist-sized pieces of honey-colored agate—like the one pictured above from the bike trail—and beautifully silicified petrified wood weren’t rare finds. Jasper, in every color imaginable, was so abundant that we barely even bothered collecting it.
But beyond the rocks, the river bottom was an explosion of life—a sensory feast of water, soil, plants, animals, sights, sounds, and even smells. It was Wyoming’s own little slice of the Amazon. (Well, kind of. LOL.)
So, today’s mission? Head back to the Wind River. Fly the drone. Soak up the last glorious hours of Indian summer. Wyoming doesn’t really have a fall season, after all. It’s straight from summer to snow. And, of course, I’m hoping to find a glowing, honey-colored agate—one that fits perfectly in my palm. No big deal, right?
-Wind River gravel bars.
A Perfect Day
I flew the drone up and down the river until the battery was completely drained. The view was stunning, but things have changed. Like Burma Road, this area has been developed. Access is limited, and much of the biodiversity has been lost to “progress” and gravel pits.
Still, the old gravel bars from my youth remain, and they’re just as accessible. And today? I have them all to myself. Perfect.
I bushwhack through the bottomland brush. No signs of winter here—just a few migrating birds and a lone cow blazing a trail for me. My senses are alive. My eyes soak in the vibrant hues. My spirit feels renewed. It’s such a contrast to the desert landscape that’s captivated me all season.
Joy takes over, and I linger. The rocks? They can wait. I’m too absorbed in the moment to even take photos. The biodiversity here is mesmerizing. Honestly, I probably should’ve been a biologist. This place is like Wyoming’s Amazon—sort of. LOL.
Eventually, my wandering leads me to a choice: wade through mud or head to a gravel bar. I’m not about to get muddy today, so gravel bar it is.
Rocks? Not So Much
Once I’m on the gravel bar, my old geology habits kick in. These bars are home to a fascinating variety of rocks. Igneous rocks from the heart of the Wind River Mountains, volcanic basalts and breccias from the west, and even the occasional sedimentary chunk from a nearby anticline. Their colors and textures catch my eye. I pick up a small, unique rock, carry it for a bit, then swap it out for the next interesting find.
But I’m really on the hunt for those silica treasures—the ones that were so common in my youth. Back then, I’d never leave without a handful of agates, petrified wood, or jasper. We collected them by the bucketful when my kids were little. But today? Nothing. Not even a tiny piece of significance.
Just a few slightly silicified limestone pebbles and some quartzite. That’s it. How did things change so much? The river should be bringing in new material from Yellowstone, a hundred miles upstream. Did we really pick it all clean? I’ve pondered this before.
I lower my expectations. Now I’m scanning for even the tiniest pea-sized agate or jasper. Fully in geology mode, I’m too engrossed to even snap a photo. And yet—nothing. Just a thumbnail-sized piece of poor jasper. That’s all.
I drop the rocks I’ve pocketed back onto the gravel bar. Maybe someone else, with fresh eyes and less history here, will find joy in them.
Still Worth It
No photos. No rocks. Yet, it was still a perfect day. Flying the drone, basking in the energy of this biodiverse haven—priceless. I stayed until the cold crept in and the light began to fade. I knew what tomorrow would bring.
-And here it is—tomorrow’s front yard.
So, that bike trail agate—once just another pretty stone—has taken on new meaning. It might be the only one of its kind that I’ll find for a while. And just like that, another season wraps up.
Take a look at this video from KatyDid Rocks. It’s like peeking into a reflection of the Wind River — exactly what I hoped to find.
The stones carry the same story, shaped by the same waters and born from Yellowstone’s ancient volcanic heart. There’s a kind of magic in knowing these rocks traveled the same journey, whether here or there.
I have a feeling that KatyDid’s gravel bars will become more like ours over time. The reason? We can’t help but gather these treasures, one by one, until only memories remain. 💎
Time for hot coffee, cozy clothes, and some winter dreaming. Until next season, my friends. ✨
Cheers, D 🧸❤️
