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Arapahoe Ski Lodge
Arapahoe Ski Lodge

Article contributed by Chris Tracy, Courtesy of Alpenglow Magazine 2009

The Arapahoe Lodge's history has everything to do with a perfect ski vacation experience.  2009 celebrates the lodge's 35th anniversary. Rich and Mil Holzwarth and their children (now adults) Jan and husband, Greg Roman, Brad and Todd have lovingly operated the Arapahoe Ski Lodge since 1974. That was before there were sidewalks and street lights- when the town was still named Hideaway Park. It was before Mary Jane, and snowboards, when a day of skiing at Winter Park Ski Area was $7.50; when old Ski Idlewild boasted a $6 lift ticket; and lessons at both resorts cost a whopping $8. It was before snowmaking equipment allowed the resort to open early, and when phone calls still went through a friendly local switchboard operator, and calling Granby from Winter Park was long distance. "Our number at the lodge then was Winter Park 8222," Jan recalls.

In those days, no fewer than 15 mountain lodges hosted skiers and tourists from around the world. They operated on the Modified American Plan, with packages offering five days of lodging, meals, and lift tickets for two for $135.  Well, prices have gone up a bit. But Mil suggests that a stay at the Arapahoe Ski Lodge is comparable in price to a stay at a condo at the base of the ski area, "but here, you get your meals, too."

Mil and Rich Holzwarth left a busy city life and Rich's chemical lab career to buy the lodge they saw listed in the Wall Street Journal. A leap of faith, a willing family, and lots of determination culminated in their buying the lodge in June of 1974 from Ed and Beryl Parrington- who then purchased and operated the Tally Ho close to Fraser.

Rich remembers the huge snowstorm the day after they closed on the lodge that dumped more than three feet of snow. "It buried our Gremlin," Jan adds.  In the Holzwarths' premiere season, the lodge was booked for Christmas- and there was no snow. Guests began to arrive early Christmas week. Ready to ski, they asked Mil when it was going to snow. "Christmas Eve," Mil assured them-and, sure enough, as they served their first Christmas Eve dinner, the snow started falling and didn't stop.

Those early years at the lodge saw the Holzwarths hosting locals for Thanksgiving dinner, since there were few restaurants serving on Thanksgiving. The place was packed and thankful friends looked forward to the feast every year.  

 Growing up at the Arapahoe Ski Lodge was both fun and hard work for the Holzwarth kids. "We weren't allowed to go out for winter sports in school because we had to work," says Jan. But there were rewards. When the chores were done, there was skiing.

Other ski lodges in operation included Idlewild Lodge, Timberhouse, Beaver  Lodge, High Country Inn, Woodspur, High Forest Inn, Yodel Inn, Sitzmark, Miller's Idlewild Inn, Brookside, Winter Haven Lodge, Tally Ho, Outpost Inn, and Devil's Thumb. Like the Arapahoe, most had a bar, sauna and hot tub. Now, only a few of the grand old lodges remain. Condos and hotels have taken their place, and guests who frequent them unknowingly sacrifice a romantic, unique experience only a ski lodge can offer.

Most of the lodges in the 70s were members of The Winter Park Resort Association, which met regularly, offering cooperative marketing to the lodges and ski areas.  Meetings would always end in a friendly gathering at one of the lodges. Mil remembers how the lodge owners used to help one another with groceries, extra beds, and cooking when there were urgent needs. That's still the case when the Holzwarth sons, both firefighters with the East Grand Fire Department, are called out, leaving their lodge duties.

 Jan, the official baker, still makes many of long-time friend and former baker Twila Groswold's recipes, while Jan's dad, Rich, is famous among locals as "the doughnut man," getting up early every Wednesday to make his special cake doughnuts for guests and neighbors.   We fill up on fresh fruit, eggs, homemade bread, bacon and sausage, and enjoy the pretty surroundings. Red geraniums fill the dining room windows, and a crystal chandelier sparkles in the sunlight. Jan brings my apple spice tea in a teapot nestled in a crocheted tea cozy.

 I ask her how the Holzwarth family fared, working all these years together.   Jan laughs as she notes they all just do what has to be done. With the help of a couple of hired hands, they manage to care for the big lodge together, taking turns with laundry, room cleaning, baking, grilling, carving, waiting tables, cooking, bartending, hosting, plowing, greeting, booking and shuttling.  "Not all of us get mad at the same time," she jokes. "We all do each other's jobs."     Mil makes sure I understand this has been a family business. "Rich and I couldn't have done this without them," she says.
    

 

Barney & Margaret McLean
Barney & Margaret McLean

It was the spring of 1924 when an 8-year-old girl from Hot Springs, Ark., arrived in Hot Sulphur Springs by train to spend the summer with her aunt and uncle Hattie and Omar Qualls, homesteaders from Parshall who had recently purchased the Riverside Hotel. It wasn't the first time Margaret Wilson had been to Hot Sulphur. Her father had tuberculosis and was frequently prescribed treatment at the sanatorium on the Front Range. She was 6 years old the first time she made the train trip.

She remembered a boy and girl twin she had befriended on her first visit. When she saw the twins again on this second visit, they told her there was a boy in town who was calling her his girlfriend. His name was Lloyd “Barney” McLean. Margaret made sure to attend the opening of the new school in Hot Sulphur that spring (now the location of Pioneer Village Museum).

When Margaret first laid eyes on her future husband, she wasn't all that impressed. “I immediately knew who he was, and I thought, ‘Ugh.'” He was wearing wool knickers, leather boots, a V-neck sweater and a flat cap. “He had white hair and millions of freckles,” she recalls.

That white-haired boy from Hot Sulphur went on to become one of Grand County's earliest and most heralded Olympic skiers. He and Margaret would eventually travel the world together. They danced with Hollywood stars and shook hands with presidents. But their love story began right there, in a that little neighborhood schoolhouse. “We all had a crush on Barney until Margaret came to town, then it was all over,” one of Margaret's best friends used to say. At some point, she said, the banker's son asked her out, but she found him dull compared to Barney.

Barney was the oldest of 10 children — five boys and five girls. When the family outgrew the house his dad built a tiny shack for Barney in the backyard. Barney was barely big enough to see over the dashboard when he started driving a truck for his father's garage, which was located just up the street from the hotel. He was just 12 years old when he drove a load of dynamite over Trough Road.

There were stories of the brakes overheating on Rabbit Ears Pass and Barney riding down on the fenders in case he had to bail and hairy trips over Berthoud Pass. Margaret said she never realized how good Barney was at skiing. He worked all the time driving the truck (his dad pulled him out of school for good in 10th grade), and he would head straight to the jumping hill in Hot Sulphur after work and wouldn't come home until after dark.

“He didn't have the proper clothing,” Margaret said. “He wouldn't even be able to open the door when he got home and he would stand at the door crying until his mother let him in.” His mother would bring him in, take his boots off and put his feet in a bucket of hot water to thaw them. “For him, it was skiing for the joy of skiing,” Margaret said.

Barney raced on the weekends. Margaret rarely made it out of the restaurant to join him. It never struck her that skiing would someday become her husband's career. “He was never one to blow his own horn,” she said.

He qualified for Nationals in jumping in 1935 at age 17, and his dad gave him a quarter to make the trip. "Here was a kid from a town that nobody had ever heard of who shows up at Nationals and wins it," his only child Melissa McLean Jory said. He qualified for the 1936 Olympics but was badly hurt on a wind-blown landing that winter and missed going.

Margaret returned to Hot Sulphur almost every summer of her life after that, and by the time she was a teenager she was working for her aunt full time. “My friend Telly and I were the best waitresses in the county,” she said.

 

Hot Sulphur had four ski hills back then and Margaret recalls that in February 1936 the Rocky Mountain News sponsored an excursion train to the 25th Annual Winter Carnival in Hot Sulphur. More than 2,000 passengers arrived on three trains that weekend. (That same train later became the official ski train.
“There were no restrooms and no restaurants except for the hotel,” Margaret said. The Riverside was inundated. It was shoulder-to-shoulder people, she recalls.

There wasn't much to do for fun in Hot Sulphur back then, like now, so the young couple would drive up to Grand Lake — to the Pine Cone Inn — on summer nights to dance. It cost 10 cents per dance, and since they didn't have much money, they would have just three dances ... “Oh, Barney could dance,” ... drink a Coke and then drive home. Margaret would wait by the front window of the hotel to watch for Barney, who she knew would be going to meet the train at 11 a.m.

One time, she was out there waiting, the snow was still piled high, and Barney got so caught up looking for Margaret in the window that he nearly ran the truck off the bridge. The only thing that saved him from plummeting into the river was the dual wheel that got stuck in the steel girder.

Barney was 19 in 1937 when the couple married, not old enough for a marriage license and barely able to afford the suit he bought to get married (the first suit he ever owned) not to mention a big wedding. The couple eloped in Denver. Shortly after they married the couple started traveling the country for ski races and Barney switched from ski jumping to slalom. He was named as an alternate for the 1940 Olympic squad after skiing alpine for only two years.

But, then the war came and everybody was signing up. Barney, with his skiing experience, would have been a perfect candidate for the 10th Mountain Division, but another Hot Sulphur friend who had already joined wrote and said, “Don't join this outfit. It's a mess.” So he signed up for the Air Force instead. As luck would have it, somebody recognized his name as it came across his desk, and Barney was assigned to the Army Air Force Arctic Survival School in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada, where he was in charge of teaching pilots how to survive in snowy conditions should their planes go down.

Margaret came back to Hot Sulphur during the war and worked in the county courthouse. After the war, Barney earned a spot on the 1948 Olympic team. After that, he went on to work for the Groswold ski factory in Denver, losing his amateur status and disqualifying him from FIS ski racing. He was inducted into the US National Ski Hall of Fame in 1959 and the Colorado Ski Hall of Fame in 1978.

Barney had spent his whole life on the snow. He skied all over the world, from Europe to South America. "But Hot Sulphur Springs was always home to him," his daughter said. "He was an ambassador from Hot Sulphur wherever he went."

Barney was 3 years old the first time he skied and he skied the spring before he died — at Mary Jane in 2005 — in a foot of new snow. His grandsons skied down with him, wing men on either side. His health was bad that last time he skied, and he had a hard time walking from the car to the chairlift. But as soon as he hit the top of Mary Jane Trail, everything eased, Melissa said: "He could ski better than he could walk." It was the things that made Barney McLean a world class skier that Margaret loved most: He loved speed. Bumps didn't bother him. And, when faced with a challenge he just picked a line and was gone.

Railroads Build the Ski Industry
Railroads Build the Ski Industry

In the early to mid-1900s, the popularity of skiing spread across the western United States.  Ski areas popped up in many mountain communities, particularly in the Colorado Rockies. Much of this was due to access afforded by the existence of railroads to these areas.  Railroads broke the barriers of isolation during the winter months when most other forms of transportation were blocked (skiing being the exception).

Grand County has long depended on tourism.  From its earliest days of settlement, tourists were drawn to the springs of Hot Sulphur Springs and to the waters of Grand Lake and its surrounding streams.  Grand County was reached by stagecoach from Georgetown, via the Berthoud Pass Wagon Road. In the summer months tourists would fill up Hot Sulphur Springs’ five hotels.  Nonetheless, those same hotels would sit mostly vacant during the long winter months when the road was shutdown.

 

In 1911, Hot Sulphur Springs held the first winter sports carnival west of the Mississippi River. The purpose of the carnival was to boost the town’s economy by filling the empty hotels and restaurants with out of town guests for that one weekend at the end of December.  This was only possible due to the Moffat Road railroad, which had broken the town’s isolation just six years prior.

 

Not only did the railroad bring spectators for the winter carnival, it also brought the two most important participants of the event.  At least, it brought them part way. Carl Howelsen and Angell Schmidt boarded the train in Denver’s Moffat Station and rode it to the top of the divide at Corona, where they detrained and skied the rest of the 40-plus miles to Hot Sulphur Springs, where the carnival was under way.  Once re-united with their fellow train passengers, Howelsen and Schmidt performed the biggest event of the day, the ski jump competition, which made history. The ski jump competition at the 1911 Hot Sulphur Springs Winter Sports Carnival was the first west of the Mississippi and is considered the beginning of Colorado’s ski industry.

 

The 1911 winter carnival was such a successful and enjoyable event that it grabbed the attention of Denver newspapers on the front pages.  Consequently, John Peyer and the other carnival organizers of the carnival decided to make it an annual event and put together the 1st Annual Hot Sulphur Springs Winter Sports Carnival six weeks later in February 1912. The railroad was the sole reason that the success of the winter carnival at Hot Sulphur Springs was even a possibility in those early years.  Berthoud Pass, the former wagon road converted to an auto route was closed in the winter months. Even if the highway were open, automobiles of that day could not have made the winter drive anyway.  The railroad was the only way to bring people to the remote town in the winter and take advantage of the abundantly snowy hills.

 

The Moffat Road quickly realized the potential for profit that the Hot Sulphur Springs Winter  Carnival presented in the typically slow winter months of the railroad. In 1913, the Denver and Salt Lake Railway (D&SLR) advertised a special round trip fare to Hot Sulphur for the winter carnival.  The following year, further up the Moffat Road, Steamboat Springs held its first winter carnival.. Once again, the D&SLR provided the means to reach the new ski destination. People road the rails from Denver and Hot Sulphur Springs.

 

As the popularity of Hot Sulphur Springs as a winter destination grew, so did ridership of the D&SLR to the winter carnival.  In 1936, the Rocky Mountain News sponsored the “Snow Train” to Hot Sulphur Springs for the 25th anniversary of the winter carnival.  Despite the fact that Berthoud Pass was open year round starting in 1933, over 2,200 passengers rode the ironhorse from Denver and another 500 came over the Moffat Road from Steamboat Springs for the event.  Over 7,000 people attended the carnival that weekend.

 

1912 Winter Carnival Brochure001
 

In the early years of the ski industry, Nordic was the dominant form of skiing.  By the late 1920s, Alpine skiing began to grow by leaps and bounds in the United States.  This coincided with the opening of the Moffat Tunnel, which made the railroad far more reliable in the winter time.  It would be at the west portal (West Portal) that the railroad would make its biggest impact on skiing in Colorado. Following the opening of the Moffat Tunnel, skiers would ride up to West Portal from Denver to slide the deep and steep slopes immediately adjacent of the tunnel.  Not long after the opening of the tunnel, the Arlberg Club was formed and they built their clubhouse not for from the tunnel to take advantage of the rails from Denver to the slopes on the west side of the divide.

 

Arlberg Club members and other ski enthusiasts flocked to West Portal by rail throughout the 1930s, even though there was no formal ski area.  Skiing and riding the train to West Portal was so popular that in 1938 the D&SLR started the “Snow Train,” offering regular weekend service to West Portal.  The D&SLR even provided a place for skiers to wax their skis in the West Portal Depot.

 

The start of the Snow Train coincided with decision of Denver Parks Director, George Cranmer’s decision to locate Denver’s Winter Park at West Portal. Cranmer announced his intention of creating for Denver a winter sports playground that would be “unequalled in the world.  When he determined that West Portal would be the location for Denver’s Winter Park he referenced the great ski conditions of the area and additionally remarked that “West Portal may be reached by auto or train.”  Cranmer clearly recognized the importance of access by train from Denver.

 

As ski trails were cut and T-bars were installed on the mountainside the base area facilities for Winter Park were literally constructed on the tailings of the Moffat Tunnel.  This provided easy access to the facilities and slopes of the ambitious new ski area for those riding the train from Denver. The D&SLR continued to provide the Snow Train weekend service when Winter Park opened in 1940 for $1.75 per round trip.  Unfortunately, due to the demands of World War II and a coal workers strike in 1943, the Snow Train service came to an end. This would prove to be temporary though. In 1946, one year after the end of World War II, the Denver and Rio Grande Western (D&RGW) brought the special weekend service back to Winter Park and    christened it as the “Ski Train.” This was the foundation of the Ski Train that ran between Denver and Winter Park until 2009.

 

Grand County was not the only ski destination that benefitted from the railroads in the early growth years of the ski industry in the west.  A couple of major examples are Marshall Pass in Colorado and Sun Valley, Idaho. Beginning in 1938, the D&RGW literally acted as a chairlift for skiers from Salida and Gunnison.  A special excursion train on the weekends selling seats as lift tickets to the top of Marshall Pass.  The first train sold out with 500 tickets and 200 skiers were turned away that day. The railroad even provided a  warming hut at the bottom of the slopes.

 

In possibly the greatest example of the railroad on the ski industry of the west is Sun Valley, Idaho and the Union Pacific Railroad (UP).  Sun Valley was literally the conceived, constructed, and operated by the UP. Under the leadership of Averill Harriman, who was a ski enthusiast himself, conjured up the plan to build a world class ski destination that would rival any in Europe.  This resort was to be reached by rail as a means to boost ridership on the UP, which it did. Sun Valley became the glamorous playground for the rich and famous. At Sun Valley, skiing was elevated in class and viewed as elite. Nonetheless, it was at Sun Valley that the railroad made its most significant contribution to the ski industry.  The first chairlifts in the world were installed at Sun Valley in 1936, replacing the rope tow. Engineers for the UP developed the chairlift at the railroad’s headquarters in Omaha. The invention of the chairlift transformed the method of how skiers were to be transported to the top of ski trails the world over.

 

The impact of the railroads on the development of the ski industry in the western United States cannot be understated.  Without the assistance of the network of steel that penetrated into remote mountain locations, the ski industry could not have developed with the rapidity that it did in the early part of the 20th century.   Furthermore, as we look to the future of the ski industry and try and figure out ways to conveniently transport skiers to the slopes of Colorado trains emerge more and more as the answer.  This is apparent in the rejoice that devotees to Winter Park sang when Amtrak’s Winter Park Express returned weekend service in 2017 that had been left in a void ever since the Ski Train made its last run in 2009.  Once again skiers are riding the rails of the old Moffat Road.


5277 Ski Train001

 5425 ski train 1950s001Passengers unloading the Snow Train at the West Portal Depot in 1938

 Ski Train Brochure 1980s

 
Skiing
Skiing

Grand County was one of the first areas in Colorado to enjoy sport skiing.  While mail carriers, loggers and other workers used the "Norwegian Snowshoes" as necessary winter transportation, it was a natural progression to begin racing down the slopes for fun.

An 1883 newspaper noted that in Grand Lake "Coasting on snowshoes has taken the place of dancing parties.   Quite a number of ladies are becoming adept at the art.  First class snowshoers, B.W. Tower and Max James are the best; or at least they can fall more gracefully then the rest".

According to famous Hot Sulphur Springs champion Barney McLean, that town had three jumping hills in the 1920s and held the first Winter Carnival in the West there in 1911.  By 1925, Denver sent special "snow trains" there for the recreating tourists.  Skiers such as Bob McQueary and Jim Harsh competed in statewide events along with skiing "veterans" Horace Button and McLean.  Grand Lake's Jim Harsh became the first Coloradoan to qualify for the U.S. Olympic Team.

In 1932, the Grand Lake Ski Club held its first winter sports week on Denver 25-January 1st.  Featured was a motor sled with an airplane engine which pulled skiers over the frozen lake are speeds of 90 miles per hour.

Colorado's first ski tow was opened at the summit of Berthoud Pass in 1936.  Berthoud Pass operated on and off throughout the next 60+ years but was finally closed and the lifts dismantled in 2002.  

What became the resort of Winter Park featured skiing at the West Portal of the Moffatt Tunnel and the Winter Park Ski Area opened as a result of efforts by Denver Parks & Recreation Director George Cranmer. Early lodging resorts in the area, then known as Hideaway Park (now Winter Park), included Sportland Valley, Timberhaus Lodge, and Millers Idlewild Inn.  Eventually trains made daily runs to Winter Park, loaded with intrepid skiers.  Steve Bradley invented the first effective snow packer on the slopes of Winter Park.

With a strong record of winning high school ski teams, Grand County accounted for a remarkable number of skiers who later took park in FIS (International Federation of Skiers) meets and U.S. Olympic teams.

A later ski area, now know as Sol Vista Ski Basin (formerly Silver Creek Resort) opened in Granby in the 1980's.  World class cross country ski areas in Grand County include Snow Mountain Ranch and Devil's Thumb Ranch.

The Millers Build Idlewild
The Millers Build Idlewild

Article contributed by Jean Miller

 

In June 1946, the C.D. Miller family broke ground for Idlewild Inn in the small village of Hideaway Park, Colorado. Although WWII was over, materials were still very scarce.  What could be obtained locally was bought.  Much was brought from Wichita, Kansas, where the family lived. By 1948, the rustic Inn was up and running.  It had the charm that comes with

the scent of pine wood, cozy fires, hearty food, friendly hosts, and total relaxation.  Sons Elwood and Dwight managed the business, with the vital assistance of parents and friends during the Christmas season and summers.

 

Elwood married after graduating from college and bit by bit, he gravitated to the teaching world, leaving Dwight to deal with eager guests. Idlewild Inn became a popular spot, especially families for seeking simple vacations.  However, after a few years, the Millers realized that there was developing a desire for more sophisticated lodgings.

 

About 1952, Dwight and his bride Jean had the opportunity to buy 160 acres of land across the valley, to which was later added 40 acres from a mining claim.  The price was $10,000 and the couple wondered how they ever would pay for it.  Nevertheless, this chance was too good to miss. The property extended far into what is the main portion of town today, across

the railroad, and along both the Fraser and Vasquez Creek.  A pleasant lane wound through the forest from the highway to the creeks and broad meadow.

 

One step led to another.  Dwight chose one-of-a-kind heavy, 4 foot thick cedar planks for the walls of his new lodge.  He nestled the building into the "vee" of the valley flowing down behind. By Christmas 1957, Dwight and Jean opened by far the finest lodge in the area.  Each bedroom had two double beds and a private bath with ceramic tile, a first in the area.  The first full bar in the lodge was much appreciated by guests on cold nights. A few years later, Dwight built a year-round outdoor swimming pool, the first in the county. (It took as much coal to heat the pool as to heat the lodge itself.)  Guests loved it, for in winter, they came from a day of skiing, jumped into the pool for a swim, ran to the steam room (also a

first), and finally took a snooze before evening festivities began.

 

Dwight was the first in the area to use a school bus for transportation to and from the ski area and in summer, to take people on trips within and out of the county. The realization grew that a beginners' area close at hand would be a great attraction, especially for mothers who found the trails at Winter Park daunting.  They could bring their children to Ski Idlewild to learn to ski, brush up on their own skiing, and when tired, go into the lodge to

relax or swim.  It took all of two weeks to decide on a Pomagowski double chairlift.  That summer slopes were cleared and groomed, the lift and warming house built, and the area opened in 1960, two years before Winter Park had its first chair lift.  Dwight and Jean even had a fine neon sign at the entry off the highway, one more first.

 

Saturday races, sponsored by Ski Idlewild and George/Hazel Ferris's Mountain Shop drew droves of youngsters.  About 1961, Dwight introduced ski bicycles, which were hugely popular.  He also started using the first snowmobile for grooming and first aid purposes in the area.

 

In the meanwhile, Jean was identifying snowshoe and cross-country ski trails through the nearby back country. By 1964, their thoughts were turning to snowmaking, to enhance early skiing.  To this day, people will walk up to the Millers and say, "Oh, Ski Idlewild!  I learned to ski there! Loved it."

 

As for summer activities, trips to areas of interest, swimming, and horseback rides were standbys.  In addition, the Millers built a small golf course in the meadow and a trout pond at the bridge, which they stocked.

 

As the Miller children grew, Dwight and Jean found that they wished for more family time together, and when an opportunity to sell the property came along in 1965, they gave up what was a flourishing, solid, and very profitable business, moving to Tabernash to try other challenges. Unfortunately, the new owner was not a good steward and Ski Idlewild

gradually d clined.  An era of exciting innovation came to an end.

 

 

Winter Carnivals
Winter Carnivals

Carl Howelsen, a ski jumping champion in his native Norway, came to Denver to pursue a career as a stonemason in the early years of the 20th Century.  He amused himself and others by demonstrating ski-jumping in the foothills of Denver. 

In 1911, Howelson went to Hot Sulphur Springs, where he taught locals such as Horace Button the art of jumping.  Under Howelson's leadership, the first winter carnival west of the Mississippi Rover was held there on February 10-12.  According to the Middle Park Times, "Never before in the history of the Territory and State of Colorado has such an event even been contemplated, much less held!".

Norwegian immigrants Howelson, Angell Schmidt of Denver and Gunnar Dahles of Williams Fork (Grand County) all staged jumping competitions during the carnival.  There were also skating and tobogganing events and a Grand Ball.  Hot Sulphur Springs continued holding Winter Carnivals annually until World War II, when they were discontinued until the 100th anniversary celebration, called the Grand Winter Sports Carnival scheduled for December 30, 2011-February 11, 2012.

Articles to Browse

Topic: True Crime

The face of the 1883 Grand Lake Commissioner Shooting

By Amy Ackman Project Archaeologist - 2018

I work in Cultural Resource Management (CRM), which means I document any man-made occurrence that is 50 years or older. I’ve recorded anything from prehistoric stone tools to 1940’s cans and glass. As a CRM archaeologist, I’m a data collector. Our job is to protect the archaeological record by gathering data and determining the significance of it.  In 2011, I worked on a project near Jensen, Utah, just across the border from Colorado. During this project, I came across an unmarked grave. There was a headstone, but no name. I eventually found from historical documentation that the grave was that of a man named William Redman.

Redman was the undersheriff who took part in the Grand County Shooting of 1883 that involved three county commissioners, a county clerk, and the sheriff. Three men died during the shootout, two men died of their injuries after the fact, and the sheriff committed suicide out of guilt. Two weeks after the incident, Redman was the only living participant. He was on the run from the law and actively hunted by the Rocky Mountain Detective Association. A full month after the shootout, Redman was found dead in Utah at the side of a road with a bullet in his head.   

I knew Redman was part of the Grand County Shooting and poured over any sources I could get my hands on; books, websites, newspaper articles; any tidbits of information that might answer questions. Like a detective, I wanted to understand how Bill Redman was involved in the gunfight and how he ended up in Utah.  I found the story and a picture of William Redman and I was ecstatic that a site I had recorded was associated with such a tale.

William Redman was ruggedly handsome with high cheek bones and pronounced jaw; the clothes and countenance of a miner. The more I learned about him, the more questions I had. How old was he when the photo was taken? At a time when it was such a privilege to have a photo taken, why is there a photo of him and not other prominent men in the county? I wondered about his motivations. Was he the ruffian newspaper articles touted him to be?  Archaeology is about understanding the past. Most of the time we are forced to interpret the past with only a few pieces of material that are left behind. The more material and data we have, the more we can understand.

In the case of William Redman, there are questions surrounding his death that give rise to the possibility that the man in the grave is not Redman at all. If the opportunity arises to excavate the grave, his photograph will assist in his identification.  Archaeology not only studies the past but works to preserve the past for the future. Now, I hope that a family member of yours is never being researched by an archaeologist for being a ruffian and a murderer. But, like an archaeologist, I would encourage you to preserve as much as possible for those in the future who would care to learn about the past.

Topic:

Irving Hale's Adventures in Grand County

Article contributed by Abbott Fay

At the age of 17, Irving Hale was the first graduate of the Denver Hugh School in 1878. That summer, he and his younger brother decided to go to Grand Lake to catch trout with the plan to sell the fish in Central City and make a tidy profit.

 

On July 5th, they camped atop of Berthoud Pass, building a "roaring fire to keep mosquitoes away".  The next day, they reached Cozens Ranch (stage stop in what is now Winter Park) but their jackass, carrying much of their supplies, had wandered off.  They feared that he had returned to Georgetown, where they had purchased him earlier in the week, but they found him grazing in a nearby pasture.

 

They almost drowned attempting to cross the Fraser River but finally found their way to Grand Lake on July 9th.  There, they camped and fished and collected enough trout for their return trip to Central City.  On the way back, the fish started to smell so they found some ice and started over the Continental Divide.  They realized they wouldn't make much money so were happy to sell their rotting trout for 25 cents per 10 pounds.  On July 25th they shot a deer and had a terrible time trying to skin it and cut up the meat.  Discouraged, they finally returned home to Central City.

 

Irving Hale was given an appointment to West Point and during his career he rose to the rank of Brigadier General. He was given command of troops in combat in the Philippines following the Spanish-American War. As Colorado's first combat general, he retired to Denver in 1906, and published his experiences as a youth in  "A Tramp Through Middle Park".

 

When the World War II cold weather camp was established near Leadville Colorado, it was named after Irving Hale. Many of the ski and mountaineering troops, the Tenth Mountain Division, became the founders of many of the modern ski areas of Colorado.  

 

Sources:

Rocky Mountain News, April 15, 1888

Sons of Colorado, Vol. I, 3&, 1906

Fay, Abbott; A History of Skiing in Colorado; Ouray, CO; 2002

 

Sheriff

One of the oldest brands in Colorado still in use by the same family is the Bar Double S brand of the Sheriff Ranch near Hot Sulphur Springs. The current owners of the ranch are John Brice and Ida Sheriff. In 1863, Matthew Sheriff of Keithsburg, Illinois came to Colorado to search for gold in the California Gulch, near where Leadville would be established. Mathew was dismayed by the gray mineral which consistently clogged the gold sluice, and gave up on his dreams of instant wealth to return to Illinois.

Many other miners also gave up mining for this reason, never realizing that the gray mineral was carbonite of lead, which was rich in silver. Mathew died in 1863 at the age of 40, leaving behind his wife Marietta and their 3 surviving sons, Burt, Glenn and Mark. In 1878, Marietta was inspired to return to Colorado in search of security and stability for her family. She spent some time in Leadville running a boarding house. Her sister was the wife of William Byers who was developing the Hot Sulphur Springs area so Marietta moved to the area to settle with her sons. In 1882 the family homesteaded three ranches of 160 acres each, proving them up and added a preemption right to another 160 acres.

Bert later moved to Denver and established a livery stable and Mark and his mother moved into Hot Sulphur Springs, while Glenn continued to work the ranch. Glenn married Alice Cleora Smith in 1886 and they had two surviving sons, Brice and Glenn Jr. Glenn Jr. was only 6 weeks old when his father died at the age of 33 of “brain fever” or diphtheria. Alice took the children back to her family in Iowa to raise them, but the boys returned to their Colorado ranch in 1910. Brice, who suffered from a back injury as a child, bought an abstract business in Hot Sulphur Springs and lived there with his mother for the rest of their lives.

Glenn Jr. continued to expand and develop the ranch and married Adaline Morgan in 1923. They had four children; Nona, John, Robert and Catherine. Glenn Jr. served Grand County as a Commissioner for 24 years and also as the County Assessor for 4 years. Glenn Jr.s, son John, took over the ranch and married Ida Marte in 1949. Ida’s family had homesteaded their own ranch near Cottonwood Pass. They have two children and continue to work the ranch to this day.

Topic: Biographies

William H. Kimball

The span crossing the Colorado River on State Highway 9 southeast of Kremmling is known as the Kimball Bridge.  It honors the memory of William H. Kimball who carried the mail over Berthoud Pass from Empire to Hot Sulphur Springs by foot, winter and summer.  Kimball was born in Maine and accepted the Middle Park mail contract in 1875.  Although reportedly nearly blind, Kimball traveled on snowshoes all winter carrying a backpack of mail weighing 70-105 pounds, day and night, at least once a week.

In  1884, Kimball established a flat bottom ferry over the Colorado River near the spot where the bridge now stands.  Before that time, no wagons could cross at that area.  With the addition of the ferry, load of game meat and fish could be taken up the Blue River to be traded for much needed staples. 

Kimball never married and lived at a nearby ranch until his death in 1909.

Ninety Four Winters So Far

January, 1911.  Five years ago they were teenagers in Torsby, Sweden, oblivious to the sweeping changes that history and hope would bring to their lives.   Now they’re in a mountain valley halfway around the world from their Scandinavian homeland, marveling at the tiny bundle of flesh and spirit who has just joined their family. It’s the coldest week of the year in one of the coldest spots in America, but there’s a fire crackling in the woodstove, and their hearts are warm with love for each other and their firstborn child.   For the next few days, a parade of fellow Swedes stop by to pay their respects to the newest resident of the town of Fraser: Elsie Josephine Goranson.  

February, 1918.  It’s barely dawn, and a blizzard is howling across the valley, piling snow against the sturdy wooden house.  George Goranson puts on his boots and woolen overcoat and trudges towards the barn.  There are cows to milk and horses to feed.  There are no days off.  Meanwhile, in the house, 7-year old Elsie stokes the perpetual fire in the cook stove, while her mother grinds the beans for a second pot of strong coffee.  Later they will make sour cream cookies.   Her younger brother Hill is sick in bed with influenza.  He will survive.  Many others will not.   

March, 1925.  The logging camps are humming, the Moffat Tunnel is under construction, and the valley is brimming with workers and their hard earned pay.  Fraser merchants and boarding houses are doing a brisk business, as are the local bootleggers.  Elsie is waiting tables at the “Victory Café”, named for its proximity to the new coast-to-coast “Victory Highway” that passes through town, and each morning she serves breakfast to the nice looking (if scantily clad) girls from the corner house of ill repute.  Soon the local vigilante committee will force these ladies of the night to leave town, but for now it’s business as usual, and Fraser is hopping.   In fact, “Russell’s Riot Squad” is playing at a dance tonight at the Thomas Hotel.  

April, 1927.  Sleigh bells jangle as a team of horses pulls four young couples down valley to a dance in Tabernash, the most happening town in the county.  The roundhouse is there, as are the wages of engineers and brakemen who guide the trains over Rollins Pass.  There is even a movie house, where Elsie saw her first moving picture, “Jackie Coogan”. As the sleigh glides across the moonlit snow, Elsie feels a mix of excitement and nervousness.  This is her first date with Chuck Clayton, a hardworking man from Oklahoma. Chuck is handsome as he steals glances through the cold night air, but her Dad doesn’t approve of his drinking and gambling.  Other dates will follow: motor trips in a Model A Roadster to Garden of the Gods, picnics in Rocky Mountain National Park, and plenty of dancing.  “I’ll never marry you,” she tells him everyday.  “Yes you will,” he insists.  

May, 1933.  One child underfoot and another in the belly, and Elsie Clayton is tired.  Chuck bought a house for 20 dollars and used the lumber to build a hamburger stand (soon café and bar) right along the newly paved Highway 40, the main route from Denver to San Francisco.  For the next 38 years, their lives will be a blur of ham and eggs, New Year’s Eve parties, and a long medley of songs on the jukebox.  The school bus will stop there, as will the “Steamboat Stagecoach” bus line, and three generations of folks looking for a home cooked meal or glass of beer.  There will be marathon cribbage games, war stories, and “Friday Night Fights” watched live on the first television in town.  Despite the booze and boxing, Clayton’s Café and Bar will be known as a family establishment, especially compared to the “Fraser Bar”, a.k.a. the “Bloody Bucket”, where a love triangle will one day lead to murder.  

June, 1945.  It’s 4:30 a.m.  Elsie tiptoes downstairs and into the café.  She brews coffee, warms up the grill, then sits and enjoys a rare moment of relaxation before her workday begins.  In the distance, a steam locomotive blows its whistle as it chugs towards town.  Before her life is over, nearly a half million trains will pass through Fraser, an endless stream of rumbling horsepower that conjures up different images as the years pass by: trains bringing home soldiers from the Great War; trains loading up ranchers’ fattened cattle in the fall; trains delivering newspapers and mail; trains colliding head on in the Fraser flats; a train’s whistle frantically blowing to alert sleeping townspeople to a midnight fire; streamlined diesel trains ushering in a new era, and countless coal trains, hauling the carbon wealth of Western Colorado to the factories and power plants of far off cities.  

July, 1950.  Summer’s here, and all are invited to the town picnic down by the Fraser River.  Aging Swedish bachelors will be there, sipping steel cans of Coors and swapping stories of crosscut saws and the rowdy “Lapland” logging camps up St. Louis Creek.  Young men will dance with young women.  Young men will start fistfights with other young men.  Navajo railroad workers will perform a rain dance. Children will play Audie Murphy in the riverside willows and drink Coca Cola from thick glass bottles.  Meanwhile, the deluxe brick barbecue will sizzle as Elsie spreads mayonnaise on buns and Chuck flips burgers and jokes with friends.      

August, 1953.  President Dwight D. Eisenhower is coming to town to fish and relax.  “We come Ike” banners wave in the breeze as the motorcade turns off Highway 40 and onto the dusty gravel of Main Street.  Cheers erupt and flashbulbs pop as a smiling Ike emerges from his limo and waves to the crowd of 300.  It is the biggest day in Fraser history, but Elsie sees none of it, for even as her husband, the Mayor of Fraser, is welcoming the leader of the free world to town, she’s in the cafe tending to the crush of reporters and tourists who’ve come to see an American hero.   Tomorrow, after the excitement dies down, she’ll personally deliver two of her homemade pies to the President, who will rave about the perfect crust.   

September, 1971.  Retired.  Chuck and Elsie sit on the porch of their new home on the edge of town, watching cows graze just beyond the fence, and taking in the unobstructed view of Byers Peak.  Labor Day has come and gone, and now town is peaceful, the highway quiet.  Freed from the busy schedule she’s kept for decades, Elsie will soon embark on a reading frenzy and will begin to keep a modest journal of the days’ events:  A Grandchild born, an illness in the family, an exceptionally cold morning.  Chuck busies himself planting trees, tending a garden, and mowing his spacious lawn.  Tomorrow they will pack a picnic lunch and drive the Denver Water Board roads in search of raspberry bushes.   

October, 1978.  Today is Chuck and Elsie’s 50th wedding anniversary.  It’s a perfect day, sunny and warm, Indian summer if there ever was such a thing.  The mountains shimmer beneath a blanket of fresh snow.  Hay meadows glow golden beneath the cloudless sky.  Family and friends gather in the yard for photos before heading to the Crooked Creek Saloon, formerly Clayton’s Cafe and Bar, for a long afternoon of celebration and reminiscing.   

November, 1999.  After 71 years of marriage, Chuck has passed on, and Elsie is suddenly alone.  She sits at her dining room table, peering out the frost fringed window at the town she was born in, the town she has lived in her whole life.  The ridge she once sledded down is covered with condominiums.  The willowed wetland where her brother trapped muskrats has become a large parking lot.  Her father’s horse pasture is now a shopping center.  Everything has changed, yet memories remain, taking on a life of their own.  Horses still pull wagonloads of hay up the highway.  Loggers come in from the woods every Saturday night for revelry and roulette.  A young couple poses for a photo in front of their new cafe.  A sharp axe splits a chunk of pine.  Life goes on.   

December, 2004.  Christmas Eve.  There is plenty of food, including the homemade potato sausage that’s been served at every family Christmas for centuries, and plenty of gifts stacked beneath the brightly lit tree.  Elsie sits at the head of the table, quietly marveling at this clan she has wrought.  Her surviving children are here, as are her grandchildren, some of who have grandchildren of their own.  Five generations of family pour gravy on potatoes and crack jokes.  As she looks at their faces, she remembers her own parents, her grandparents, and her husband.  Everyone is here.   In a few minutes, in a ritual as old as Elsie can remember, her great-great grandkids will hand out presents, and the house will resound with laughter.  

Winner of  the “One Grand Essay” contest 2005

Smiths of the Blue River

Frank John Smith was born October 5, 1852 in Granby, New York.  He married Elizabeth Olive Sanders, who was born in 1860 in Hannibal, New York.  They were married in 1878 in Hannibal and had two children Albert and Lelah.  Albert died as an infant in 1881.  In 1880 Frank homesteaded his ranch close to the Blue River and sent for his wife and baby daughter who came West by train to Dillon in the spring of 1883.

They had 10 more children, all born at the Smith Ranch, between 1884 and 1907.  As the boys grew into young men, they homesteaded additional acreage around the ranch.  The youngest son, Earl, operated the Smith Ranch until 1958, when it was sold to Ted Orr Sr. His son, Ted Orr Jr. and his wife, Virginia Smith (granddaughter of Frank and Elizabeth) operated the ranch until 1967, when it was sold to the Berger brothers.    

Schools

Article contributed by Betty Jo Woods

The first official school in Grand County was founded in 1875 in Hot Sulphur Springs in a crude dugout. The school met for twenty days and a painting of the classroom shows nine students in attendance. Typically the woman teachers of that era would have earned about $25 per month. 

One report to the Colorado State Department of Education said, “The school secretary left during the Indian uprising and no school records are available.” This school was presumed to be at Hot Sulphur Springs.

In the 1890s school was not held every year in Grand Lake because not enough taxes were raised to pay for a teacher. The school year was generally April through October and classes were held in various vacant buildings for many years. The first schoolhouse in Grand Lake was built in 1910 and remained a one-teacher school until 1935. 

A notice published in the Middle Park Times on january 31, 1889 annouce that a masquerade ball and supper of "beef steer and chickens" would be held on February 14th to raise money to build a school.    

In 1898, the offerings were expanded to include the first experimental high school curriculum to be offered in the county. As towns were developed, several rural one-room schools also came into existence. Many schools were taught only during the summer because winter travel was too difficult.

At one time there were nineteen school districts. In 1958 the County was reorganized into two school districts, with the result that today there are two high schools, two middle schools, four elementary schools, one charter school, one alternative school, and one private Christian school in Grand County.

Sources:
R.C. Black, Island in The Rockies. Pruett Publishing Company, 1969
Colorado State Department of Education, First Formal Biennial Report of Superintendent of Public Instruction for State of Colorado. Denver, Colorado: Daily Times Printing House, 1879

Topic: Skiing

Skiing

Grand County was one of the first areas in Colorado to enjoy sport skiing.  While mail carriers, loggers and other workers used the "Norwegian Snowshoes" as necessary winter transportation, it was a natural progression to begin racing down the slopes for fun.

An 1883 newspaper noted that in Grand Lake "Coasting on snowshoes has taken the place of dancing parties.   Quite a number of ladies are becoming adept at the art.  First class snowshoers, B.W. Tower and Max James are the best; or at least they can fall more gracefully then the rest".

According to famous Hot Sulphur Springs champion Barney McLean, that town had three jumping hills in the 1920s and held the first Winter Carnival in the West there in 1911.  By 1925, Denver sent special "snow trains" there for the recreating tourists.  Skiers such as Bob McQueary and Jim Harsh competed in statewide events along with skiing "veterans" Horace Button and McLean.  Grand Lake's Jim Harsh became the first Coloradoan to qualify for the U.S. Olympic Team.

In 1932, the Grand Lake Ski Club held its first winter sports week on Denver 25-January 1st.  Featured was a motor sled with an airplane engine which pulled skiers over the frozen lake are speeds of 90 miles per hour.

Colorado's first ski tow was opened at the summit of Berthoud Pass in 1936.  Berthoud Pass operated on and off throughout the next 60+ years but was finally closed and the lifts dismantled in 2002.  

What became the resort of Winter Park featured skiing at the West Portal of the Moffatt Tunnel and the Winter Park Ski Area opened as a result of efforts by Denver Parks & Recreation Director George Cranmer. Early lodging resorts in the area, then known as Hideaway Park (now Winter Park), included Sportland Valley, Timberhaus Lodge, and Millers Idlewild Inn.  Eventually trains made daily runs to Winter Park, loaded with intrepid skiers.  Steve Bradley invented the first effective snow packer on the slopes of Winter Park.

With a strong record of winning high school ski teams, Grand County accounted for a remarkable number of skiers who later took park in FIS (International Federation of Skiers) meets and U.S. Olympic teams.

A later ski area, now know as Sol Vista Ski Basin (formerly Silver Creek Resort) opened in Granby in the 1980's.  World class cross country ski areas in Grand County include Snow Mountain Ranch and Devil's Thumb Ranch.

Topic: Leisure Time

Picnics, Games and Socials

Article contributed by Abbott Fay

 

There were many games and leisure time activities enjoyed by the early settlers in Middle Park.  Among the most common adult games were gambling games such as crap-shooting.  Poker in almost all its forms was also very popular. Some saloon poker sessions would go on for entire weekends.  Parlor games often included Blind Mans Bluff, which has a history dating from ancient times.  Charades, dating from the 1770's was recorded in at least one pioneer diary.  Marbles and Jacks were common children's games. 

 

Some of the more athletic pursuits included swimming, which was very popular in the summer and during winter at the Hot Sulphur Springs.  Contests of croquet and horseshoes were played at almost all the resorts and dude ranches.  Several times, the Middle Park Fair Horseshoe Champion went on to compete at the Colorado State Fair, and in 1920, a local winner went on to the World Championships held in Minnesota.

 

All sorts of tag games were invented, including a version called "Fox and Geese" played in the snow fields of winter.  A variation which is rarely seen today was called "Statues".  In this game, "it" would whirl each player around and then release him or her.  However the released one landed, that position had to be held totally motionless (as a statue).  After all the players had been cast off into statues, "it" would pass among them looking for even the slightest motion, even to the blink of an eye.  As "it" caught a victim in movement, the victim then had to join "it" to pass among the statues, often taunting and teasing to elicit a movement, until only one statue remained.  The final statue became "it" for the next round.  

 

Rope jumping, hop scotch, sleigh riding, skiing and ski-jouring have all been mentioned in letters, diaries and newspaper accounts. Potluck picnics were frequent in the summers.  Ranch families would meet on Saturday nights in the school house for dancing.   At church celebrations there was almost always a cake-walk and donated box lunches were auctioned off.

 

In additional to fishing and hunting, rodeos gradually replaced informal races and other private ranch contests.  One of the first rodeos in the nation was held at Deer Trail in Colorado in 1869.  By the end of the century, almost every ranching area in the state had at least one rodeo a year. 

 

As for musical entertainment in those days before phonographs or radios, many people would perform at public and private gatherings.  Violinist, often self-taught, would play with other instrumentalists in what were called "hoe downs".  Mountain men often carried mouth harps for self-entertainment or impromptu performances for other trappers and Indians.  Accordianists were very popular at polka dances and the Jew harp was another common musical instrument.

 

On long lonely treks, some travelers would sing, not only for pleasure, but to scare away predatory animals.  Some ladies cultivated excellent singing voices and were often accompanied by piano music.  Pianos were more common in homes a century ago than they are today.  For households without a capable musician, there were player pianos, which made music from rolls of perforated paper to reproduce popular and classic tunes.

 

Story-telling was an art for some talented individuals, who were the highlight feature at many gatherings.  Some stories ended on a humorous note; other were mysterious or even scary.  Conversation was also considered a form of entertainment.  Women's sewing bees were welcomed for the gossip opportunities as well as the craftsmanship. 

 

Essentially, there was much more individual participation and carefully planned intermingling in those days than the more passive entertainment (TV, video games, movies, etc.) of today.   

 

Sources: Merlyn Simmonds Mohr, The New Games Treasury, Boston, 1997

Gertrude Hollingsworth, I Rember Fraser, Fraser, CO

Luela Pritchett, Maggie By My Side, Steamboat Springs, CO 1976

Candy Moulton, A Writers Guide to Everyday Life in the Wild West, Cincinnati, Ohio, 1999

Robert C. Black, Island In the Rockies, Boulder, CO 1969

Christmas at the Crawfords

Jimmy and Maggie Crawford settled in Hot Sulphur Springs in June of 1874.  They left their farm in Missouri with their three children, John not yet two, Logan 4 and Lulie 7 years old to begin a new life in Colorado. The one room cabin was built of round logs and had a sod roof.  In several places outside light could be seen between the logs. The floor was packed earth covered with elk skins which had a tendency to smell while drying out after a rain or melting snow.  The sod roof was far from water proof.  When the children came down with scarlet fever Jimmy promised to cover the roof with wood shingles and had gone to Billy Cozens' sawmill to make them.  Mr. Cozens was very helpful and even gave Jimmy a rusty iron stove to take back home.  Rusty or not, to Maggie it was like new.  She was most appreciative.  The shingles were carefully stacked by the cabin but never made it to the roof.

Jimmy carefully explored the area for suitable pasture land for his small cattle herd.  His explorations took him further and further to the west of Hot Sulphur Springs and as fall approached he became desperate to locate suitable grazing pasture before the snows.  Although Jimmy would return home every few weeks, the time in between his visits became longer and longer as he moved his cows to the west.  Maggie was faced with many hardships in his absence.  Ute Indians would quietly appear, seemingly from nowhere, and ask for food or as in one instance, ask to trade a pony for the little boy John which she of course adamantly refused.  Maggie was able to keep friendly relations with the Utes but never comfortable when they appeared.  The conversations were limited to jesters, hand language and a variety of facial expressions.

But this is a Christmas Story. To begin with, mountain men, prospectors and just plain loafers from Georgetown would stop by the Crawford's for a meal when they were in the area.  Maggie would never refuse them.  A few weeks before Christmas four prospectors enjoyed a well prepared venison stew with Maggie and the three children.  Lulie, the seven year old told the visitors how she was going to hang a stocking at the foot of the bed for Santa Claus to fill with toys and candy.  Her two brothers shook their heads in agreement.  Maggie said, "Lulie, I really don't think Santa Claus could find us way out here in Colorado!"  She knew there was nothing she had to fill the stockings except maybe some sugar candy which would likely be a disappointment for each of them.  Their Christmases in Missouri were memorable with presents, candies and fruit.   One of the four prospectors listened intently to Lulie as she described the Crawford's last Christmas in Missouri.  He had introduced himself as Charley Royer.  Charley was a 22 year old, recently from Kentucky now working in the silver mines near Georgetown. After a very satisfying lunch the men left and a heavy snow began to fall.

By Christmas Eve the snow was deep and drifts were high. The temperature dropped  below zero.  Although Jimmy had promised to be back for Christmas, Maggie thought the snow too deep for him to travel.  He had located what he called the perfect pasture far to the west and had made a land claim close to a bubbling sulphur spring.  He told Maggie it reminded him of the sounds steamboats made on the Missouri River and named his land claim, "Steamboat Springs."   Alone with the children, Maggie read the bible story of Christmas.  Before dropping off to sleep, Lulie said, "I know Santa Claus will find us, I just know he will!"  Maggie sadly shook her head.  Hours later, close to midnight, there was a gentle knock on the door.  Maggie cautiously opened the door hoping it would not invite trouble.  To her surprise it was the young Charley Royer.  He held out a gunny sack and said, "Mam, I've brought some oranges, hope they haven't froze, some candy and a few toys for the children.  Please tell them Santa Claus did know where they lived.  I remember how important Christmas was for me and I wish you and your family a Happy Christmas."  He turned and walked back into the darkness.  Charley Royer had come 60 miles from Georgetown in the bitter cold and heavy snow to make three little children happy on Christmas morning with oranges no less, in the middle of winter, toys and candy, a Christmas they would never forget. Jimmy made it home on Christmas day to add to the joy.  The following year and many years after the Crawfords had Christmas in a comfortable ranch house in a place called "Steamboat Springs."  As for what the future held for Charley Royer, well that's a story for another time.

Skiing