The rare night at Bent's Old Fort

I never started a Colorado Plains drive this late in the afternoon. Daylight fades to quickly in winter. 

But before this night, there was no need to head out this late. Most nights Bent’s Old Fort National Historic Site closes shop at 4 p.m. On this Saturday, the reconstructed fort would stay open late. When willing to stay open later, the opportunity cannot go ignored. 

We arrived 45 minutes early and the rangers granted us a nice privilege – we could walk the wetlands trail and check in after the walk. With the gates usually closing at 4 p.m., I didn’t expect the chance.

We wandered among the Arkansas River wetlands next to the fort. The wetlands are not historical, a remnant of more recent floods and the Arkansas overrunning its banks to flood the lowlands. 

The birds didn’t seem to mind, as they swarmed in the thousands. The red-winged blackbirds cawed incessantly. Until they didn’t, the cries stopping suddenly as night intruded. 

The marshy lakes had recovered after a spring grass fire threatened the fort and fortunately burnt out. The wetlands recovered quickly. 

We reached a spot where the reeds no longer blocked the Arkansas, as it took its bend near the fort. The river seemed surprisingly healthy, with deep currents and not just braided currents. The waters turned hypnotic as they coursed eastward. 

As the last of the day faded, flocks of geese came overheard. What made them unusual was no one could see them until they flew directly above or until the wide V-shape of the flock crossed the moon’s silhouette. Suddenly hundreds of them passed overhead. 

Our guides, dressed in period outfits, pegged our visit to a specific December day in 1847, when Bent’s Old Fort was near the end of its run. 

A man in antebellum soldier garb stirred the fire outside the fort’s main gate. Fires burned everywhere in the main courtyard, helping to fight off the prairie cold that crept up entirely too fast. 

 We started in the negotiation room, loaded with bison skins on the floor and bundled for trade in the store next door. Our guide handed some of us bundled skins, which could go for $3-$8 each. Traders wanted thick winter fur but wanted to keep each robe around 5 pounds. 

As we dropped them off, the store employees quoted a price. They didn’t deal in cash; cash meant nothing at the only settlement on the plains. Robes were traded for credit at the store, and items from further east and around the world. French wine, Italian pasta, coffee, rifles, and almost anything else someone could use in this wild country. 

The factor (right) and his guest

With our business concluded, we adjourned to the dining room. The gentlemen invited us to the table and clamored about what to do about keeping the fort profitable. The factor ran the fort and reminded us it was a for-profit venture for the Bent, St. Vrain & Company. The Mexican American War effectively ended commerce and the Army’s offer for the fort was far too low. 

Fort visitors beyond the fort factor’s table were on their own for food. Only top guests received food from the kitchen, although others could buy food, hunt along the plains for game to cook or go hungry – they weren’t getting fed from the kitchen. The ladies in the kitchen prepared pies over Dutch ovens loaded with coals. 

Bundles of bison hides

While the original fort is gone, the stones in front of the kitchen hearth are original issue and smooth. Stepping out of the kitchen, the Colorado plains cold hit us immediately. Those ladies had a place to escape the prairie night. They baked an apple pie on the hot coals of a Dutch oven. I suspect everyone in the room wanted a slice of that pie. 

In the billiards room on the second floor, the bar served white whiskey from Taos, claret from France, and other libations for visitors who wanted to hang out or use the billiard table. It was the only bar for 300-plus miles in any direction. The peacocks gracefully hung out somewhere else this night. 

Not the fort's animals

Fire warmed a room adjacent to the fort’s main door. A Hispanic woman combed her hair and our guide read a letter from her brother (she could not read). 

There was no advantage to returning to Taos, as Mexican women were less likely to receive pay for their work as they would at Bent’s. Here sewing and other skills were in demand, and those with such skills would receive adequate pay.

After the tour, our guide gave us permission to stay if we liked. Ginger snaps and hot cider were solid enticement, and people were eager to chat after an immersion in the 1840s. 

The fort’s animals all nestled away for the evening. Goats, mules, chickens, peacocks and ever the cats did not make an appearance. That they stayed away did not matter. 

The reenactors created an atmosphere not unlike one that a traveler might find in the 1830 and 1840s, when only Bent’s Old Fort and miles of dangerous open prairie sat along the onetime border.

Conversation around the fire