LITMIR.BIZ

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moves, properly prepared, and adventure calls, tell the train crew to stop halfway to Silverton at the Needleton Stop. After about a twelve-mile hike to the east into the mountains a pseudo open glade with old mines all around will be your heart-stopping destination.

      This area is called Chicago Basin and massive mountains surround. Just to name a few, Windom Peak, Needle Ridge, Snowdon Peak, Glacier Point, Twin Thumb, Mt. Eolus, Sunlight Peak, Jupiter Mountain, Peak Eleven and Peak Twelve. Many of the mountain summits are above fourteen thousand feet in height, if the heart suggests it, four, yes four, Peaks can be accomplished in one day.

      Hiking through Weminuche Wilderness in the Uncompahgre National Forrest is an indescribable experience and actually only the beginning in this wide-open land of mountains.

      One other fascination is the open mine shafts with tailings ponds located around the Basin. With a flashlight and an overdose of bravery, a venturesome soul can go underground into the mineshafts. We did not bring a canary so going deep was unwise for many reasons.

      Also, a description of huts maintained by the Suisse Alpine Club in Switzerland, at the base of many inexpressible climbs, will be discussed later.

      Back to the east side of the valley we travel. All along the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, from Mt. Blanca in the south, to the mountains surrounding Crestone, the possibilities are endless. To mention a few just outside Crestone, Crestone Peak, Crestone Needle, Shadow Mountain, Mt. Bryant, South Maroon Peak, Kit Carson Peak, Challenge Point, Mt. Cleveland and Humboldt Peak.

      Climbing either in the summer months or in a completely different fluffy period during the winter months, the mountains forever call, always challenge the wild at heart to ‘come up to the top,’ if you dare. Only one suggestion, always bring the correct equipment because the mountain man can be merciless… but the views are serene and peaceful. In addition, many ‘across the board’ people will be met along the way. As always, good luck, may the sun never blind you and may the wind be forever at your back.

      And finally, at a young age and living in the country, a massive cottonwood tree became a second home. Scrounging in old barns, old lumber piles, just about any location, boards of whatever thickness and width with a reasonable length were found and a three-story tree house was built. With relatively thin, short boards as a stepping ladder into the upper reaches of the tree a three-sided fort became a secret place to hang out.

      Interestingly enough, to enter the fort it was necessary to reach out to the side and partially pull up in order to unlock the up-swinging entry door. Each story was gained by crawling through an opening in the corner of the ceiling to appear on the floor of the next level. And finally, above the third floor existed a flat observation deck, a place where the commandos could plot out their next mission, and also a keen place to spend the night.

      Thinking about what the monstrosity looked like hanging way up in the tree, kind of unique but a little scary made me wonder. Fortunately the last visit was a relief; someone had taken the treasured fort down. It was a sad moment, but nevertheless necessary.

      At the time most buddies, including Steve, were younger in age but still good friends. Steve’s dad had a motorcycle and drank too much, however they had a great maple tree, which we built a nice tree house in its widespread branches.

      This tree fort was so much nicer, much more accommodating and comfortable. Being architectural minded and having access to 4”x 4” lumber from my Dad’s workplace, the size of the fort was doubled. The heavier lumber formed an extension truss.

      And since a neighborhood was being built not far away, supplies were readily available (in the middle of the night)? This was not kosher, yet it provided great necessities such as boards, plywood for the sides as well as a pitched roof, Celotex insulation, shingles, windows and carpet. Once again, honesty was not a strong part of the formula, however…

      Anyway, we had a trap door with an upside down orange ‘warning’ cone as a simulated restroom. We managed a large cooler box against the tree in a secluded corner. This tree house also had a difficult entrance requiring the adventurous night crawler to pull out to unlock the padlock and then shimmy into the fort.

      If adventure is your thing, particularly at this age, the William’s fort was a great place to spend time dreaming, hanging out. Many nights were spent talking about the next exploration, sports, girls and the future, “what are you doing this summer?” What a summer’s eve!

      Running the rails, shooting a duck on the reclamation pond and waiting for it to float into shore, climbing up inside the elevator in an old manufacturing plant to capture pigeons… As a matter of fact in the plant there was a metal frame for a one-man helicopter, just think of the different possibilities!

      And a dangerous afternoon on the property we started a D-7 Caterpillar bulldozer. Imagine a bunch of kids driving over everything imaginable. A serious problem developed; how in the world do we turn it off? Finally someone decided to put dirt in the diesel fuel tank? No one knew if this choked the life out of the machine or if someone actually pulled the correct lever or turned the right knob, who knows, the bulldozer stopped. All present, left post-haste for cover, a friend’s home. We developed great friends and had many laughs and a whole lot of fun. Those were the days.

      Honestly, it is without a doubt easy to recognize the great state of Colorado. She is marvelous and adventurous, intriguing and has a ‘never-a-dull-moment’ landscape and untold excitement to offer. From Aspen to Boulder, Vail to Breckenridge, Steamboat Springs and Glenwood Springs, Durango to Mesa Verde. Central southern Colorado, surely if an adventurer does not live within it’s borders, time should be spent becoming familiar with some of the spectacular scenes Colorado offers.

      Another interesting story includes a Great Grandfather, Eugene Secrest, an industrious frontiersman, known as Papa. Papa was a tall healthy man with tremendous spirit. His curious spirit took him to many different locations.

      While wandering through the San Juan Mountains, on the west side of the valley, perhaps herding cattle, he found an abandoned copper mine high in the mountains. During the early days the mine was successful and truthfully, no one knew what the many colored stones coming out of the mine were. They simply threw copious amounts of gorgeous turquoise ore into the tailings ponds.

      Much to his surprise, when Papa came across the mine and discovered the incredible amounts of turquoise lying around, he and his brother decided to file a claim and renamed the old copper mine the Villa Grove Turquoise Mine.

      Not only did they gather the turquoise from the tailings pond, which was relatively easy, they proceeded to mine the old fashioned way. Much like the former copper miners, they mined out of a shaft and produced large amounts of turquoise.

      Consider the time spent at high elevation, living in one-room log cabins. Yes, it was hard work, but the stories told of good times made it all worthwhile. Think about living just below tree line in the Rocky Mountains, living a spartan miners’ lifestyle, incredible times of struggle, trying to stay alive. Finally, the tremendous enrichment, both have probably forever been forgotten, maybe even lost.

      Finally, for whatever reason, the decision to sell the mine came to pass and everyone thought the profit would be similar to the ‘luck of the Irish.’ Imagine the dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy in Papa’s mind. To his dismay, he found out when his brother originally filed the claim both names were not placed on the deed. Weren’t they supposed to be? No one can determine why, but unfortunately his brother placed only his own name on the deed. As a result, sadly Papa received absolutely nothing from the sale of the mine. Should we wonder if they ever spoke to each other again?

      To bring this story to somewhat current times, my family, upon occasion would wander into the high forests of the San Juan Mountains and visit the place of the Villa Grove turquoise stone. It was always an exciting adventure to kick around in the mining camp, see the rugged cabins, just to explore and imagine what it was like to live and work at the mine.

      By this means, various chunks of raw turquoise still exist. In fact a fairly large, four-inch, chunk was pulled out of a water wheel set-up on a diverted portion of the stream. What could have the water wheel been

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