By admin 
In the early 20th century, modernity poured into Wyoming aboard the railroad and men flocked to the coal mines to provide the fuel for these locomotives. Horses and mules were still vital to the economy and stagecoaches ran steadily.
These routes connected the railway depots to remote communities in the young state.
One of these vital stagecoach routes connected the metropolis of Shoshoni to the rural town of Thermopolis across the Wind River Canyon, a deep canyon that was impassable even by horseback.
It was a dangerous route across the gorge where constant rockslides threatened the stage and thieves were known to lie in wait for their victims.
By then, stagecoaches had been targeted by bandits and outlaws for decades.
One of Wyoming’s most notorious, ruthless bandits was “Big Nose” George Parrot who, before being hanged by vigilantes in Rawlins, robbed stagecoaches traveling between Cheyenne and Deadwood, South Dakota, in the late 1970s.
John Hulse, a miner from Gebo, took a job as a stagecoach driver for owner EJ Richards when work at the mine slowed down. His route took his passengers over Birdseye Pass and it proved more dangerous than working underground in the coal mines.
Dangerous road
“There were many times when I rode the stage through the snow, belly deep, while the leading team took off and lunged to break the course and the wheel team pulled the load,” Hulse told the Thermopolis Independent Record in the 1930s .
Passengers could purchase their ticket at the Simmon’ Fruit Store in Thermopolis and they could ship their goods through the American Express Company, according to a 1913 advertisement. The Shoshoni-Thermopolis Stage Line departed from both cities at 7 a.m. daily except Sundays. and you would arrive at your destination at 6pm that evening, an 11 hour journey.
However, Hulse claimed he could walk the route in half that time if the weather was good.
“Tuff Canyon on the Shoshoni side was a bad spot,” Hulse said. “But in good weather, if the stage left at 6 a.m., the stage could be completed at 11 a.m.”
This particular stage route had a Halfway House where lunch was offered to weary passengers. It was exactly 30 kilometers from Thermopolis and the same distance from Shoshoni.
The path was very dangerous, Hulse said. He operated a ‘four-up’ for freight and up to six horse teams if he had a larger load or more passengers.
There was one spot that caused men and women to become “weak in the knees” and passengers to walk instead of ride.
It was called Devils Slide and Hulse said it was very narrow for his stagecoach and nerve-wracking to ride. Loose stones fell under the wheels of the stage and the wheels had to be locked in place to prevent 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.”
Highway robbery
One day, three men were waiting along the Birdseye Pass trail, with plans to hold up the stage in a remote area. They were far from any police officers and the stage stood alone.
John Hulse was driving and “Old Man Moore” was sitting next to him, riding shotgun. As they got closer, the men tried to stop the stage.
The team stopped, snorting and prancing. The shooting started, shots were fired from both sides.
‘Old Man Moore’ fell to the floor of the driver’s seat and immediately sought shelter. He left it to Hulse and a passenger to keep the bandits at bay.
The passenger, who was using a Luger, was injured and his gun jammed.
He also had to find shelter and Hulse was left alone to defend the podium.
After some time the bandits, seeing that their efforts were futile, gave up and left without the loot.
This was not the only robbery in which Hulse was involved. 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 a “little guy” climbed onto the steering wheel and pointed a revolver in his face. At the same time, the other bandit on the right climbed up and pointed a shotgun at the man riding with Hulse.
“We want your money!” they shouted.
Somehow, in the commotion, the bandit with the shotgun distracted the other thief. Hulse said he knew the short bandit on the wagon wheel was scared because his revolver kept shaking.
He was so out of control from the shaking that Hulse thought whatever happened, he was going to be shot.
He started screaming and grabbed the vibrating gun. He managed to wrestle the gun away and disarm the smaller man.
The other bandit fled when he saw the robbery going wrong, but the scared thief was dragged to prison in Shoshoni. He was held in a small cell until justice could be served.
Runaway horses
The danger did not only come from bandits and dangerous roads.
Another time, Hulse said, he was driving a four-up over Birdseye when the brake broke. This was a handbrake, which was pushed forward or backward to engage the wheels.
On board this run was Sheep Queen Moore, a prominent sheep farmer in this area. When the stage turned, the brake broke and the stage turned around. It was dragged by the horses, which continued to gallop in fear.
Hulse held the reins and stopped the team. If he had gone wild, he said, the reversal would have killed everyone.
As it was, Hulse was ‘all skinned’, and Sheep Queen Moore ‘crawled on her knee’. She sued the theater company for $1,600, seeking damages for the injuries.
Hulse continued to command the stage until he returned to the coal mines, a much safer occupation.
Jackie Dorothy can be reached at [email protected].