(c)2016 J.S.Reinitz

 
Memory is a strange thing. 

My parents took us to the Devil’s Tower when I was in junior high school as part of a cross-country trip from the Midwest to the Pacific Ocean. And for decades, I have carried this memory of arriving at the park toward the end of the day, parking and walking around the tower, climbing on the scree, learning about the Native American significance of the site and the story about the bear’s claw marks. And driving off to camp elsewhere.

 So in 2016, as I was dragging my own kids, and my wife and my mother across the west, we took the right turn after Sundance to see the tower. And everything was different from how I remembered it. Not just the a few different roads and additional buildings that could be explained by normal development in the interceding years. The topography and layout around the site was totally different from my memory, stuff that couldn’t have changed. 

It must have been the memory that was wrong all this time. We did visit the tower all those years ago, but I just didn’t remember it right. I have been thinking back trying to find where this false recollection came from, and so far I have come up empty.

Even so, it was good to explore the tower again and make new memories with my family.