From Quinter, Kansas, Castle Rock Road leads southward, toward the Smoky Hill River Valley. Yesterday afternoon, I followed that even, dirt-gravel road as it undulates across the High Plains, now a mosaic of parched grasslands and dry stream beds. Swainson's hawks perched on the phone poles, prairie falcons cavorted above the yucca-studded hillsides and a lean, juvenile coyote loped across the road as my pickup and its dust cloud approached. About 5 miles south of Quinter, outcrops of Cretaceous sea deposits appeared along the creek valleys and, at 10 miles, the route to Castle Rock cuts to the east on a narrower but equally even road. Another 4 miles brought me to the preserve entrance, which is on private land; after crossing a cattle guard, one can take a loop road past the Castle and its adjacent, spectacular escarpment (be aware that this road is deeply rutted and uneven, requiring a four-wheel drive vehicle with high clearance).
The Castle, composed primarily of Cretaceous chalk, sits out from the escarpment, an erosional remnant as the valley has gradually widened; three of its pinnacles remain (though leaning precariously) while a fourth crumbled back in 2001. While the Castle is an interesting and solitary geologic feature, the escarpment, to its south-southwest, is spectacular, with sculpted cliffs and badlands of Cretaceous chalk, limestone, shale and sandstone. Amidst the broad, High Plains of Central Kansas, it seems to be out of place, better consigned to the colorful canyonlands of the Colorado Plateau.
This Cretaceous wonderland reminds us that some (if not most) of America's spectacular scenery cannot be viewed from our major highways and scenic byways; one must be willing to take graveled backroads and foot-trails to enjoy such gems. Were Castle Rock and its Escarpment located in a smaller, eastern State, it would surely be a State Park, complete with paved roads, manicured trails, comfort facilities and an Interpretive Center. While such development, to paraphrase Edward Abbey, might draw crowds of gawking tourists, it would also help to insure protection of the site and further the education of those who visit. Then again, I enjoyed my visit in quiet solitude, broken only by the sound of the prairie wind.
