Old Shoshone River Bridge turns 100

— and carries more than cars

I believe everyone has a story about the old Shoshone River Bridge between Lovell and Cowley. Hundreds of graduation portraits and family snapshots have been taken there over the decades. This year, as the bridge celebrates its 100th anniversary, its story feels more poignant than ever.

At a full century old, this steel pony-truss bridge stands as Wyoming’s oldest highway bridge still maintained by the state. Built in 1925 by McGuire & Blakeslee Engineers of Lovell, following a design by the Wyoming Highway Department, it remains a strong example of early truss construction.

The bridge replaced an older wooden structure in almost the same spot, one that was prone to flooding or washing out during ice jams. When that happened, drivers had to detour south through Byron and cross the old suspension bridge there. When completed, the new Shoshone River Bridge was the longest bridge in the state at 390 feet.

As a devoted bridge lover and historian, I’m always amazed whenever I pause to admire it. Some people see the sad rusted metal that’s warped and scratched, but I see it as a living thing with stories to tell of all the cars filled with people and trucks filled with sugar beets, grain and livestock that have passed over.

Wyoming’s biggest road-building era

The Shoshone Bridge was built at the height of Wyoming’s greatest wave of highway construction. In the 1920s, Yellowstone National Park had become the must-see travel destination in America. Families across the country were hitting the road in their new cars, everything including the Ford Model T, Chevrolet Superior, Dodge sedans and Overland touring cars. Restaurants, gas stations and motels were popping up everywhere.

Wyoming officials saw an opportunity, but also a challenge. Even though 95 percent of Yellowstone National Park lies within Wyoming, nearly all the tourist dollars were flowing through Montana’s entrances at West Yellowstone and Gardiner. For the first 50 years of the park’s history, Wyoming had watched wealth stream into Montana because roads on the Wyoming side weren’t developed enough to compete.

It wasn’t until 1902 that Sylvan Pass and Yellowstone’s East Entrance were open to horse traffic, and the road from Cody wasn’t ready for cars until the early 1920s. By tying Lovell and the Big Horn Basin to that growing system, the bridge helped make Yellowstone tourism accessible from every corner of the state.

All of that led to Wyoming investing millions in new highways to funnel visitors into the park through Cody and Lovell. The Shoshone Bridge west of Lovell was a vital piece in that puzzle.

A Prohibition shootout on the new bridge

Not long after it opened, the bridge became the stage for one of Big Horn County’s most dramatic prohibition-era moments. Since 1920, Wyoming and the rest of the country had been living without alcohol, or at least without legal booze. Apparently, even in the Mormon communities of the Big Horn Basin, there was a demand for moonshine.

Robert C. Tillotson was happy to fill that demand. He was part of a network of rum runners distributing alcohol from Canada and from small distilleries hidden throughout Montana. By the time the Lovell bridge was finished, Tillotson was using the alias Robert Sherman since escaping from a jail in Newcastle in 1923.

Lovell city marshal Ernest Stringham had been tipped off that Tillotson and a buddy named Moore from Bridger, Montana, were making their rounds in the Basin, delivering pints of the hard stuff to places in Cowley, Byron and Lovell and would need to cross the Shoshone River Bridge soon.

Big Horn County Sheriff Howard C. Burgess and deputy A.R. Hughes of Greybull set a trap on the east end of the bridge for the suspected bootlegger. When the suspect had almost crossed the bridge, Sheriff Burgess in a bold move stepped into the road, raised his hand and opened his vest to display his star. Instead of stopping, Tillotson hit the gas and sped toward the sheriff, who dove out of the way.

As the car sped past, Deputy Hughes fired several shots at the tires to bring the car to a halt. The vehicle rolled down a slight incline and came to rest. The posse surrounded the car and found that a bullet had struck Tillotson in the back, killing him. Inside the car, officers found a gallon jug and two pint bottles of moonshine. Moore, who claimed he was only along for the ride, was arrested and taken to Basin. He said the last thing Tillotson shouted was “smash the bottles.”

A coroner’s jury quickly ruled the shooting accidental, and Tillotson’s body was sent to his family plot in South Dakota and is buried near his parents. Deputy Hughes was not disciplined for the shooting. Moore spent a few weeks in jail in Greybull but did not face serious charges.

Why it still matters

Over the years, the bridge has had other excitement and still shows the scars of Wyoming’s tough weather, drunk drivers, collisions, unreadable graffiti and ice jams. By 1962, the state had realized, as we all have, that a deck 20 feet wide is a bit dicey for two cars to pass, and certainly not for two big trucks at the same time. Our once famous bridge watched as a new and painfully ugly replacement was built a few yards away.

Since 1962 it’s mostly sat there. I drive over it a lot as a shortcut to my in-laws’, and it’s a good detour heading to the golf course or when the other bridge has repairs. In 1985, the bridge got a bit of attention when it was added to the National Register of Historic Places, a fitting honor for a structure that has borne the weight of community and history.

Today, if you stand on the Lovell end of the bridge, you’re standing where Sheriff Burgess once stood, hand outstretched, badge glinting in the sun. Imagine him diving aside as the car sped forward, and behind him Deputy Hughes raising his gun, firing and the car coasting off the road to the left just before reaching today’s Road 9.

So the next time you head west out of Lovell, slow down and admire the bridge that has weathered time, flood and even a prohibition-era shootout. Better yet, take the short detour across its steel spans. Who knows what the next 100 years will bring? The bridge is certainly built to last that long, will outlive most of us and will have many more stories to tell.

At 100 years old, the Shoshone River Bridge isn’t just a way across the water. It’s a living reminder of our history of resilience, our wild past and the way Wyoming is still building its future on steel, concrete and the open road.