Part 8 (2/2)

Our first night out we slept on the ground, although as there were only four of us we could have slept in the wagon, which we did afterward to be sure not to be rained on and also to avoid rocks, which were usually too numerous for comfort, and it was too much of a task to clear a large enough s.p.a.ce for sleeping quarters.

The next morning we had everything working smoothly. Brad was an old camper and good cook and had no trouble in holding up his end, so that we were off at seven o'clock. At least we started to start, but Cyclone, when the wagon did not start easy on account of a big boulder under the wheel, decided to go backward. I got into an argument with him at once, but concluded it policy to agree with him, so we went backward. He soon tired of that way of going and we resumed our onward way.

Our road had about five miles of rocks and two bad hills, but we stayed right side up. By 2 P. M. we had come about twenty-five miles and, having reached the Gunnison River, we decided to stop for the day. We had been without water since morning, and our route had been a dry and dusty one, so we hailed the river and gra.s.s with delight.

The boys went fis.h.i.+ng while Brad and I sewed a flap on the wagon sheet. They came back with a sucker and a bullhead, or rather they brought back only two fish, one sucker and one bullhead, both caught by Norman.

This camp with running water, shade, and gra.s.s was the best we had had since starting from California. I expect now that we are getting close to the mountains we will have plenty of wood and water and some very beautiful places to camp.

We were troubled some with mosquitoes for the first time, so got out our mosquito netting. We did not have much need for it afterward except occasionally when camping by a stream in the woods.

Next morning, Friday, July eight, we drove into Delta. This is quite a prosperous town and the country immediately surrounding it is well irrigated, and the farmers along the river look as though they were all doing well. We spent the best part of the day here. We had tires set on two wheels and besides making a few purchases, we lightened our load by sending home the tent and cots we had taken on again at Grand Junction; also a box of clothes.

We intended to get our lunch at the hotel, but when we went over there about noontime the proprietor, a woman, was evidently quite alarmed for the safety of her guests and told us she was sorry, but we could not register. We probably did look like desperate characters and so, being refused admittance to the hotel, we went on down the street and found a lunch counter where we got what we wanted. The boys were quite elated to think that we had been refused admittance to the hotel because we looked so much like desperadoes, but Brad and I concluded the woman was a tenderfoot and her real reason for being fussed was that we had no coats.

Our wagon was not to be ready until later, so we had time to look the town over, and then came back and helped the blacksmith set the tires.

We were all ready at four-thirty, so started for the next place, a town called Hotchkiss, where I had a letter to Mr. Simonds, president of the North Fork Bank, and I expected to interview him regarding the roads.

Leaving Delta we found the roads were good for eight or nine miles, or as far as we went that afternoon. We crossed the Gunnison River again just before we made camp. The river from here up apparently has no banks, but runs through a canyon, with perpendicular walls in places, which several miles farther up is several thousand feet deep. It is called the ”Black Canyon of the Gunnison,” and while we got several glimpses of the river a few days later, it was nearly a week before we got down to it again.

Our camp near the river was disagreeable on account of mosquitoes and dead cattle, the latter being in evidence near all water holes. The season has been so dry, and the water so scarce, and what there was so bad, that I presume more cattle died this summer than usual.

We left early the next morning and by eleven-fourteen were at Hotchkiss, sixteen miles, and up grade all the way. Here at the north fork of the Gunnison we camped and I saw Mr. Simonds. He told us about the road and I found we would have to travel seventy-five miles before getting down to the river level again. We would go through Crawford and Crystal Creek and up over the Black Mesa and then down again to Sapinero, which was on the river and also the railroad. He thought we could make the trip through O. K., although it was not easy, but when I asked him if there was any easier way he laughed and said, ”Not unless you can fly”; and we often wished we could before we got to Sapinero.

We reached Crawford, about fourteen miles from Hotchkiss, at 5 P. M.

It lies in a pretty valley and, while it is an old town, the inhabitants were evidently quite prosperous, as they were mostly putting up new houses or adding to the old ones. We stopped just outside the town by a brook, and had a good camp. We had come thirty miles that day and felt we were making good progress.

The next morning we drove twelve miles to Crystal Creek, reaching there at ten-thirty. There was no town here--just the creek and a ranch house and the remains of a sawmill. The telephone company is putting a line through here and hauling poles down from the mountains.

We met some of the teamsters who told us about the road over the Black Mesa, and as we had a good place to camp, we concluded to stay here the balance of the day and rest up the team. We caught enough trout here for supper, the first we had had, but the creek was so small, and the brush so thick, it was nearly impossible to fish at all, although there were plenty of fish. We did not turn in until 9 P. M. on account of the mosquitoes, but by that time it had turned so cold they disappeared, and we were left in peace.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A CAMP ON BLACK MESA]

The next morning we got an early start. Our road led straight up onto the mesa, a five-mile climb, and here it was that our new horse showed his poor qualities to advantage, or rather, our old horses showed their good ones. We had climbed about four miles, most of the way nearly straight up, when on a particularly steep turn Cyclone gave up.

I couldn't induce him to try again, and not being in a place where I could take any chance of getting backed off the road down the mountain side, I took him out and told Pete to let me have Dixie. The boys thought that if Cyclone couldn't pull the wagon up with Bess's help, poor little Dixie surely couldn't, but they didn't know Dixie and I did, and was not disappointed. She and Bess pulled that wagon up to the top, much to the delight of the boys, who amused themselves by making slighting remarks about Cyclone. We reached the top at ten o'clock and there we put Cyclone back into the harness, and that was the last time we ever had any real trouble with him.

Starting on we had a splendid drive for five miles through the most wonderful of Nature's parks; immense pines, a profusion of flowers of all colors with the Indian Paint Brush scattered here and there among them. One could imagine some landscape gardener had laid out the grounds, except for the immensity of it. Snow-capped mountains in the distance completed the scene, and when we camped at noon we felt we would like to spend several days here. The gra.s.s was knee-high in the little parks and our horses had not had such good feed since starting.

It certainly was worth climbing up just to be here, and we lingered longer than usual for lunch, and then drove only five miles farther before camping for the night on a little creek that runs down a canyon into the Gunnison River below.

We dished one of our hind wheels again coming down a steep rocky piece of road, and had to take it off and put it on the other side after dis.h.i.+ng it back; but we are getting used to little things like this, and bad roads, so take them philosophically. We fished some in this creek where we camped, but, while we saw a few trout, could not induce any to bite. That night we had a fine camp fire and the horses a good rest and good feed.

This is the Gunnison Forest Reserve and we were surprised to find several hundred cattle up here, but later ascertained that the Government allows a certain number to be pastured up here at twenty cents per head a month for cattle, and thirty cents for horses. There are no sheep up here; the cattle men killed them off, and while there was quite a row over it, probably no one will try sheep for a while.

They can only pasture them here for three months, July, August, and September. There is no grazing before July and too much snow after September, so it makes a very short season.

<script>