Baraboo, Dells, and Devil's Lake Region — Story, Setting & Ideas

The Foreword as a Compact Thesis

In fewer than 200 words, Cole declares his fourfold interest: geology, archaeology, history, and scenic beauty. He names specific contributors—city engineer H. E. French, consulting engineer W. G. Kirchoffer, editor O. D. Brandenburg, historians M. M. Quaife and Louise Phelps Kellogg, and archaeologist Charles E. Brown—which signals a collaborative, fact-checked foundation. The foreword also contains a revealing disclaimer: California and other localities boast greater elevations and larger lakes, but Wisconsin's region possesses "unique beauty." This defensive pride recurs throughout the text, especially when Cole compares local formations to better-known sites elsewhere.

Anecdotal Evidence in the Middle Chapters

Chapter IX, on the Stone Pillar of Chief Yellow Thunder, includes a lengthy anecdote about a Winnebago woman who charged visitors "two shinnin" for entry and exit. The story is told with dialogue and a punchline—the agent laughing behind a newspaper—that reads more like a tall tale than a historical record. This shift from dry topographical description to comic narrative is one of the book's most distinctive structural features. Cole does not flag the story as hearsay; he presents it as part of the region's lore, leaving the reader to gauge its reliability. The episode also illustrates how the text weaves ethnography, economics, and humor into a single passage.

Geological Specificity and Local Nomenclature

In Chapter X, Cole describes a roche moutonnee—a sheep-shaped quartzite outcrop—and notes two cactus species on the summit: Opuntia humifusa and Opuntia fragilis. He also mentions an "ancient lava bed" at the Lower Narrows, citing Professor Samuel Weidman's monograph. These details are not merely decorative; they anchor the narrative in observable, verifiable features. The reader who follows Cole's route can expect to see prickly pear growing on a glacially rounded rock, then walk half a mile to a rhyolite exposure. This precision transforms the book into a field guide, albeit one that occasionally drifts into local legend.

The Later Excerpts and the Shift to Infrastructure

The final chapters, as represented by the excerpts, move away from natural history toward human infrastructure: Fort Winnebago, the portage, and the Waubun House. Cole describes the fort's role as a frontier protection and notes the cemetery where soldiers from several wars are buried. He also recounts the failed "paper city" of Garrisonville, with its sawmill, pottery, hotel, and "salted" gold mine—all now vanished. This section reads as a quiet elegy for the boom-and-bust cycles of settlement. The contrast between the enduring quartzite bluffs and the ephemeral human enterprises gives the closing pages a reflective, almost melancholy tone.

First-time readers will benefit from treating Cole's book as a layered document: the geological passages reward slow, map-in-hand reading; the historical sections invite skepticism about unverified anecdotes; and the scenic descriptions function as prompts for personal observation. The work is best approached not as a comprehensive history but as a period-specific invitation to explore a landscape that Cole clearly loved, with all its quirks and contradictions intact.

Reading about the Dells’s old, layered rock made me think of my grandfather’s Hudson maps, then of a faded city guide from the same era. There, the hidden alleys felt as stratified as any bluff. I held that Danger! A True History of a Great City's Wiles and Temptations The Veil Lifted, and Light Thrown on Crime and its Causes, and Criminals and their Haunts. Facts and — Key Ideas to Explore and forgot the train whistle entirely.