Oh, I was just teasing, Bruce....I usually miss the chit-chat stuff and don't get on until late now.
I hope the rain clears up so that you can get to the meet without swimming there, if they still have it, Cap. I sure am getting tired of this already, but it's not going to ease up any time soon so I may as well shut up and just go along and enjoy what I can.
This last trip we had a free day in Pinedale, so we went out to Boulder and saw the ranch where Ken grew up. Oh, I wanted to turn into that driveway! I wanted to tell those owners that once upon a time that entire area was nothing but 1000 acres of sagebrush;
that at 6 years old Ken was helping haul logs off the mountain and sitting out there in the hot sun peeling them, cutting them, and dipping them in creosote to use them as fence posts; that at the same age he was burning off the acres of sagebrush that Mom and Dad cut and buckraked; that there was no running water - they used to take three galvanized milk cans down to the New Fork River and fill them with water for the family; that they did that for 3 years until the well went in, and even then they hauled water from the well to the house; that there was no indoor plumbing or running water until the late 70s, when they finally had a small modular house on the ranch instead of the cinderblock basement that they started out in; that Ken, his mom and dad planted every single tree in that shelter belt and watered them by hand. I wanted them to understand that that ranch was once just a spot on a BLM map until a young man, his wife, and her three kids from a previous marriage were able to buy it and build their dream there. The kids kept coming - 10 in all counting Ken and his brother and sister. They lived in an old trailer first while Dad built the basement house, but the trailer burned down and almost took 2 of their daughters. Another small silver bullet shaped trailer was moved on to the ranch because during irrigation time in the summer the basement would flood, and the entire family spend days putting everything up on blocks, then moved into the small trailer. Mom and Dad raised 9 kids on that ranch and buried one still-born daughter. In the late 70s or early 80s they finally had a house instead of a basement or trailer.
As I sat there in the car at the end of the driveway, 50 years of memories took over and I was lost. Someday we'll go back there and I'll drive down that driveway. This one afternoon was worth all the aggravation of the trip.
The ranch then:
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And now, photo taken 5 Sept 18:
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Educator
Spirit
Greeter
Friend
