In the beginning of the 1900s, the modern age chugged into Wyoming aboard the railroad and men flocked to the coal mines to provide the fuel for these locomotives. Horses and mules were still crucial to the economy and stagecoaches ran steadily.
These routes connected the railroad depots with remote communities throughout the young state.
One of these vital stagecoach routes connected the metropolis of Shoshoni with the rural town of Thermopolis over the Wind River Canyon, a deep ravine that was impassable even by horse.
It was a dangerous route over the canyon where constant rockslides threatened the stage and thieves had been known to lay in wait for their victims.
By then, stagecoaches had been targets of outlaws and bandits for decades.
One of Wyoming’s most notorious, ruthless outlaws was “Big Nose” George Parrot who, before he was hung by vigilantes in Rawlins, robbed stagecoaches that ran between Cheyenne and Deadwood, South Dakota, in the late 1870s.
John Hulse, a coal miner from Gebo, took a job as a stagecoach driver for owner E.J. Richards when work at the mine slowed down. His route took his passengers over Birdseye Pass, and it proved to be more dangerous than working underground in the coal mines.
Dangerous Road
“Many were the times that I drove the stage through snow, belly deep, the lead team rearing and lunging to break trail and the wheel team pulling the load,” Hulse told the Thermopolis Independent Record in the 1930s.
Passengers could buy their ticket at the Simmon’ Fruit Store in Thermopolis and they could send their goods through the American Express Company, according to a 1913 advertisement. The Shoshoni-Thermopolis Stage Line left daily, except on Sundays, from either town at 7 a.m. and you would arrive at your destination at 6 p.m. that evening, an 11-hour trip.
Hulse, however, claimed he could run the route in half that time if the weather was good.
“Tuff Canyon on the Shoshoni side was a bad place,” Hulse said. “But in good weather when the stage left at 6 a.m., one could complete the run by 11 a.m.”
This particular stage route had a Halfway House which offered lunch to weary passengers. It was exactly 18 miles from Thermopolis and the same distance from Shoshoni.
The trail was very dangerous, Hulse said. He drove a “four-up” for freight and up to six horse teams when he had a bigger load or more passengers.
There was one spot that caused men and women to “grow weak in the knees” and passengers would walk, rather than ride.
It was called Devils Slide and Hulse said it very narrow for his stagecoach and nerve wracking to drive. Loose rocks would tumble beneath the wheels of the stage and the wheels had to be locked in place to keep the horses and mules from charging down the steep hill.
“You really had to be careful and stay on the trail,” Hulse said. “If you didn’t, it was a sheer drop off the cliff.”
John Hulse and his brother Bill. John Hulse was a coal miner who drove the stage over Birdseye Pass and encountered bandits, rockslides and runaway horses. (Courtesy Lonita Hulse Bentely) 
The Birdseye Halfway House was a grateful sight to weary passengers who had just endured a rough ride over rock and sage. The proprietor served hot meals before they resumed their long trip. (Courtesy Photo) 
In 1911, F. Welsh and Weddell were the stagecoach drivers. This section of the route was just after the drivers descended down a dangerous hill and still looks the same today. (Courtesy Hot Springs County Museum) 
A 1913 ad for the stage line from Thermopolis to Shoshoni over Birdseye Pass. It took 11-hours to traverse the dangerous route which was littered with loose rocks, steep hills and the possible bandit or two along the way. (Cowboy State Daily Staff) 
John Hulse, stagecoach driver, coal miner and eventually a rancher, poses with his horses in rural Wyoming. (Courtesy Lonita Hulse Bentely) 
Lonita Hulse Bentely attended Thermopolis High School. Her father regaled her with stories of early life in the rural town. (Courtesy Lonita Hulse Bentely)
Highway Robbery
One day, three men lay in waiting along the Birdseye Pass trail, with plans to hold up the stage in a remote area. They were far from any lawman and the stage was on its own.
John Hulse was driving and “Old Man Moore” was beside him, riding shotgun. As they approached, the men attempted to stop the stage.
The team halted, snorting and rearing. The shooting began, shots fired from both parties.
“Old Man Moore” fell to the floor of the driver’s seat, seeking immediate shelter. He left it to Hulse and a passenger to hold off the bandits.
The passenger, who used a Luger, was wounded and his gun jammed.
He, too, had to seek shelter and Hulse was left alone to defend the stage.
After some time, the bandits, seeing that their attempts were futile, gave up and left without the loot.
This wasn’t the only robbery that Hulse was involved in. His daughter, Lonita Hulse Bentley, recalled another robbery he told her years later.
In this incident, Hulse was even closer to the action.
He told her that one “little fellow” climbed up on the wheel and pointed a revolver in his face. At the same time, the other bandit climbed up on the right side and put a shotgun on the man that was riding with Hulse.
“We want your money!” they yelled.
Somehow in the commotion, the bandit with the shotgun distracted the other thief. Hulse said he knew that the short bandit on the wagon wheel was scared because his revolver kept shaking.
He was so out of control with shaking that Hulse figured that no matter what happened, he was going to get shot.
He started shouting and grabbed for the shaking gun. He managed to wrestle the gun away and disarm the smaller man.
The other bandit bolted when he saw the robbery going awry, but the scared thief was hauled into jail in Shoshoni. He was held in a tiny cell until justice could be served.
Runaway Horses
The danger wasn’t only from bandits and dangerous roads.
Another time, Hulse related, he was driving a four-up over Birdseye when the brake broke. This was a hand brake, which was pushed forward or backward to engage the wheels.
On board this run was Sheep Queen Moore, a prominent sheep rancher in this area. As the stage went into a turn, the brake broke and the stage turned over. It was dragged by the horses who continued to gallop in fright.
Hulse kept hold of the reins and stopped the team. If he had turned loose, he said, the turn-over would have killed everyone.
As it was, Hulse was “skinned up all over,” and Sheep Queen Moore “buggered up her knee.” She sued the stage company for $1,600 and collected damages for the injury.
Hulse continued to drive the stage until returning to the coal mines, a much safer occupation.
Jackie Dorothy can be reached at jackie@cowboystatedaily.com.
