Steamboat Pilot & Today

Where have all the flowers gone? At least, the ones in the village and down in Lusky Camp are few. But, we Jeeped up to the higher areas and were surprised to find lots of golden glow, quite a few lupine, and still some hare bells. Of course, in many areas, there are lots of the late-blooming purple asters, kinda washed-out looking this year.

Haven't found any ripe raspberries yet, but there are some strawberries around, and a lady brought in some ripe service berries to the Clark Store to show Marsy.

Sunday was a hectic joyful hectic day in this end of the village. The first shack came at church when Elizabeth and her five delightful children of Colorado Springs, Julia and Gus from Oregon, the Littlefields from St. Louis, who have spent a dozen of summers at High calling up on Willow Creek, all showed up unexpectedly at the church services. Then, just after church, here came Andrea and her new husband, Jim, of Colorado Springs.

All these gals are children of the families that first built cabins over in Ways Gulch. They were all part of the activities at the schoolhouse in Hahn's Peak's second growing period; singing, dancing, skits and church over in the church in the aspens. Later, most of these kids worked at our local restaurant where Chuck lives now.

This bunch ate lunch in my gazebo, then went up Hahn's Peak in the pickup. Later, we are gathered over at the McNeal's cabin. Lots of reminiscing that evening, but we missed being able to gather around a campfire.

William Uphold and Lina Daley, from Chicago, have been here visiting Betty Rubich. They hiked Hare's Trail, where the flowers are still blooming good.

It was a big occasion at Bill and Patti Ragan's cabin last Sunday noon. There were 27 family and friends who gathered at the Ragans to greet family and friends of Jim Wildman, who died last August. Jim worked at the parks in this area, lived in Captain's Cove part of the time, and Jim and Billie were important residents in this area for many years. We were so glad to see Billie again and meet the rest of the family who came to scatter Jim's ashes on Sand Mountain.

I received a letter from Everett Coleman of Boulder last week. He was recalling stories told by his grandfather, Joseph, who worked here at Poverty Bar, which was the placer mine just west of the village, which was first called Poverty Flats. Joseph worked on the Big Hazzle the first summer, six days a week, 12 hours a day, and was paid cash on Saturday night. The miners would all load in a wagon and go to Steamboat to the bars on Saturday night. Some would come back, others would simply disappear. On Monday, there would be a new crew at the placer.

We took another ride in the Jeep, this time up on High Hill Street, close to the top of the small mountain in our east side. We had been hearing a lot of clatter and banging from up there, so we went looking. There's a bunch of building going on up there, we found, and at the end of the road was a nice, new house. Just as we were headed back, wondering who owned that place, Bryan Haselback came along the road and told us that is was his house that we were admiring. He and his wife, Anne, have spent the last two winters there already and have found it to be a great spot for that time of year, cozy and protected by tall trees.

Bryan works in construction with Fair and Square. Anne, a respiratory nurse, works at the Steamboat hospital.

Bill Brandon is across the road in his "for sale" house, entertaining several members of his family. Bill and Lisa now live in Grand Junction next to a golf course.

Compiled by Rilla Wiggins