The new sun melted away the weary storm clouds and greeted the morning campfire. Dark, black coffee was the first order of the day, followed by hot oatmeal topped with wild strawberries freshly picked from the meadow behind camp. Josh's dad sipped his steaming java as he read from the Hiker's Guide to Wyoming."Says here that the native indians knew of an old cemetery well above timberline. They claim it was haunted with evil spirits and named it the Devil's Graveyard. The weird thing is that the author states that no one has ever found it. Even the Forest Service can't agree on its location and labels it in different places on their maps. Some don't even have the spot marked. "I figure we are within a day hike of the general area from right here. Most maps have it labeled somewhere along this huge twelve mile long escarpment. What do you say, son? Are you up for a little adventure?""You bet! After last night I feel we're ready for anything!"Four hours of climbing later they looked back at their last stop as heaven compared to the present conditions. The plush, cool forest below had given way to a hot, dry desert of wind-swept short grass and rock algae. The sun punished them; the deer flies tortured them.It was a lot later in the day than they had hoped, but their pull had finally summitted them to the top of the rounded escarpment. The ridge stretched for miles to the south like a runway for the stars on top of the Rockies. It was creased by rare undulations and bounded only by a few chimney-like spires of rock to the west. These spindle formations hovered over the barren strip and eerily displayed eroded arms, battle scars from surviving the many tough winters previous.Josh and his dad strolled alng this mountain highway, searching the ground for any signs of rocks or tombstones. Finding nothing they took a break, sitting among some scarce small rocks.A gust of wind chilled their sweaty skin and drew their attention to the west. The shadows of the rock spires lay all around them, their arms dividing the light to look like rows and rows of tombstones! Looking upwards to the formations they saw spooky fog-like fingers of clouds slide over their saddles and fall straight down towards them. Turning back to the shadowed cemetery, the fog clouds were like spirits darting in and out from behind each tombstone. The Devil's Graveyard!