Chauncey Thomas memorial
Spruce Lodge

Skiing

Skiing Articles

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: Indians

Colorow - Ute Chieftain

Colorow was a Ute Chieftain who was known for profound stubbornness and bitter resentment of the white man's intrusion into the Ute hunting grounds.  

Indian Agent Meeker had ruled that that the Utes must depend on the United States government for food supplies, rather than their traditional hunting. These supplies were sometimes held up for delivery and upon their eventual arrival,contaminated. Colorow thought the white settlers of Middle Park (near Granby) were killing too many of the game animals that had been critical in feeding the Ute people.  

So in the fall of 1878, Colorow started a brush fire high in the Medicine Bow range, planning to drive the deer, elk, and buffalo west to the Ute reservation.  But the winds took an unexpected shift, driving the wild game northward and away from Ute territory.  

The fire drove out the last of the buffalo ever to be seen in the Middle Park region again and it took many years for the forests and ranges to recover from the devastation.

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

 

Topic: Regions

Three Lakes

The Three Lakes area encompasses the north-east corner of Grand County and is so named because of the three connected lakes of Grand Lake, Shadow Mountain Reservoir and Granby Reservoir. 

The two reservoirs were formed as a part of the Colorado-Big Thompson Project, which takes water from Grand Lake on the western side of the Continental Divide to the Big Thompson River on the east.  Shadow Mountain Reservoir and Granby Reservoir. connected by a   unique pumping plant, assure that the Grand Lake water level remains consistent. Further reservoirs were added in the Three Lakes area, including the Willow Creek and Windy Gap Reservoirs.

Topic: Skiing

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.

Topic: Biographies
Barney McLean

Skiing Legends Horace Button and Barney McLean

Barney McLean

Horace Button was 10 years old when he saw the ski jump competition at the 1911 First Annual Hot Sulphur Springs Winter Sports Carnival.  A railway man noticed that Horace was spellbound.  The man asked Horace what he wanted to be when he grew up, to which Horace replied, “I want to be a ski jumper like Carl Howelsen.” The seed had been sown, and Howelsen taught Horace the skills of skiing.

Horace Button became an All-American Skier.  Winning awards over nationally recognized competitive ski racers.  The basic knowledge he learned from Howelsen was passed on which in turn sent Jim Harsh of Grand Lake, to be on the 1932 United States Olympic Nordic Combined team.  The Olympics were held at Lake Placid, New York. 

Barney McLean of Hot Sulphur Springs, became a champion following in the "ski boots" of Mr. Button. Horace would be waiting at the ski hill every afternoon, when school hours were over and he and Barney would schuss the mountain together.  Barney was a 9-time national champion, and a 3-time Olympian.  In 1948 he was Captain of the men’s alpine ski team that competed at St. Moritz, Switzerland. 

Horace Button continued to advise ski techniques to students of East and West Grand School Districts, helping them compete at the university or Olympic level.  They were; Dale Thompson, Wes Palmer, Zane Palmer, Landis Arnold, Todd Wilson, Kerry Lynch, Tim Flanagan, and many more.  Horace coached 12 national champions. 

Horace also was an accomplished artist. His specialty was carton ski scenes.  Tim Flanagan honored Mr. Button for his work with local youths and created the Horace Button Ski Foundation.

Horace Button, Jim Harsh, Barney McLean, and Carl Howelsen have been inducted into the Colorado Ski Hall of Fame. Barney McLean and Carl Howelsen are honored at The National Ski Hall of Fame.

The picture on the right is of Barney McLean at age 4, wearing a pair of skis his dad made for him. The photo was taken in Hot Sulphur Springs.

Topic: Biographies

Howard Henry Yust

Howard Henry Yust was the sixth child of Charley and Mary Yust, born April 18, 1891 on their homestead by the Blue River six miles south of Kremmling. At age eleven, Henry worked as a teamster. He and his brother Bill rode broncs at early Middle Park Fairs. He homesteaded part of the ranch then grew potatoes Wynn Howe sold at his Troublesome store. Henry and his brother Ed raised lettuce in 1924-5 where Mesa, Arizona is now.

Winters, Henry and Ed broke horses. Daily they rode five miles through deep snow. The first day one brother led the unbroken horse ridden by the other brother. The next day, the two rode their two horses together, but separately to feed the Yust family cow herd at the mouth of Gore Canyon. Loose hay pitched onto team pulled sleds was pitched off in meadows.

In the summer of 1931 Jack Shiltz approached Henry while he and Ed were building the first water carrying flume/suspension bridge over the Blue River and asked if he would work for Middle Park Auto in Granby as a mechanic. Henry asked Ed if he wanted the ranch. Ed said yes, so Henry left. Later, Henry operated Standard stations in Kremmling, first the current Kremmling town hall, second now O'Aces Liquor. After he leased the second station to Dolye Likely, Henry operated a rock shop where he sold jewelry he made.

July 7, 1943 Henry married Mary Anna Ostergaard. They raised Mary's nieces Willa Jo and Donna Dee Ostergaard. On his last visit to Kremmling August 30, 1980 Henry showed Jim Yust the location of Elliott's cabin on Elliott Creek three miles south of Kremmling. Elliott squatted on land now owned by Blue Valley Ranch when he was killed by Indians taking revenge for the killing of Chief Tabernash. This band went on west to participate in the Meeker Massacre (1879). Henry died Election Day November 4, 1980 in Northglenn, Colorado.

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

Sir St. George Gore

Sir St. George Gore was born in 1811 in County Donegal, Ireland, heir to an Irish baronetcy and was often referred to as Lord Gore.  He was educated as an aristocrat, never married, and never held public office.

He staged an expensive and expansive “American hunt,” leaving Westport, Missouri on June 6, 1854, with plans to hunt in the southern Rockies.  After spending some time at Fort Laramie, he arrived inMiddle Park. His guides were Joseph Chattillon and Jim Bridger. Gore had a entourage of 40 workers, 25 wagons, 24 mules, 112 horses , 3 milk cows and 14 dogs!

Loving his luxury, he slept in a brass bed, had nightly hot baths, and dines on superb food served on a lace tablecloth set with fine silver and crystal.  He often invited Bridger, who was illiterate, to dinner and awakened in the guide an interest in Shakespeare, which lead to the frontiersman hiring a boy to read the bard's plays to him.  

Described as "a good shot at rest but rather poor offhand" he nevertheless claimed to have killed 2,500 buffalos, 40 grizzly bears and countless deer, elk and antelope.   

Bridger led Gore to West Grand County, to the pass, range, and canyon that now bear his name.  The Indians were shocked at the expedition's wanton slaughter of every game animal in sight.

The expedition did not end until sometime in 1857, when Gore returned to Ireland and relative obscurity.  Not even a portrait remains of the infamous poacher.

Topic: True Crime

Sudden Death in Old Arrow

A shooting in the Old West I know was not much like the shootings on television today.  There was no glorification of the bad man. Killings were usually like the fatal shooting of Indian Tom on that 6th of September, 1906, in old Arrowhead (or Arrow).  Nobody called anybody out.  Nobody told anybody to draw or asked him if he was wearing a gun.  It wasn’t a fight. It was a killing.  

1906 Arrow had six saloons, a grocery store, one small hotel and a livery stable.  But two thousand people picked up their mail there.  The woods were full of tie-hacks: the three sawmills hired may lumberjacks and teamsters, most of them Swedes, who seemed to make the best lumbermen.   I had arrived in Arrow the 18th of April that year to work as a teamster for my brother Virgil, who had been operating a sawmill there for about a year.  I was just sixteen. 

My brother Dick, the tallest Lininger, had been Virgil’s foreman.  Virgil had also bought the only hotel in Arrow.  My mother, two sisters and my little brother Gilbert and I came from our farm in Osawatomie, Kansas, so that my mother could run the hotel. My brother Wesley came at that time too: he planned to buy a lot and build a café.  Whole families often followed the first member who had come to these early Colorado towns.   I soon discovered that driving logging horses needed a lot more technique than driving a small farm team, but Virgil was patient, and I soon received a raise to $2.75 a day as top teamster.  

 The town was a wide open as it could get.  My first introduction to the violence was the day my brother Dick fired three drunken lumberjacks.  They drew their pay and went to Graham’s saloon to get drunker. As dick passed the saloon later, one of the men grabbed a quart whiskey bottle, and ran out and struck Dick behind the ear, knocking him cold.  The three then proceeded to kick him around.  Dick’s roommate Charley came to my brother’s rescue.  When Dick came to, he started for the hotel.  Charley guessed what he was after and beat him to the six-shooter. “I’ll make sure you can taken them one at a time” Charley promised him.   I came along just as my brother knocked the pick from the pick handle.  Something was up! In less time than it takes to tell it, Dick had three drunks out cold. 

Mother patched Dick up.  I think this was her introduction, too.  A man couldn’t stay boss long if stayed whipped.   Every other Sunday was a holiday for me although I always saw to it that I put in enough overtime to bring my monthly paycheck to $75. That September Sunday I was dressed in my holiday garb – tan peg-top dress corduroys, light blue wool shirt, Western hat, and high-laces boots as befitting a teamster who drove four or six horses hauling logs from timber country to the saw mill.  When I drove six horses, I rode one of the wheel-team horses and held the lines over four.  If I drove four horses, I rode the wagon and sat on a sack of hay.  

About noon, I stopped in front of the MacDonald saloon to talk to Ed MacDonald, one of the few saloon men my mother didn’t disapprove of.  After all, Ed had come to Colorado as a TB and couldn’t do heavy work; filling glasses over a bar was about the only light work in those old mountain towns.  Later Ed owned the famous MacDonald Ranch on the South Fork of the Grand Rover – now Colorado River- and managed boats on Monarch Lake just above his ranch.  He always served great dinners and good food.   While Ed and I were talking, Indian Tom rode up.  He was a flashy cowboy of the old school, a very good looking man with predominantly Indian features although he was only half Cherokee. When riding, Tom always wore leather chaps, spurs, and a big Stetson.  As wagon foreman for Orman and Crook, contractors for building the Moffat Road, he was a very important figure, for he had charge of all their wagons and teamsters.   The greeting between Ed and Tom was cordial. 

Everyone liked Indian Tom.  When Tom learned I was a teamster for my brother Virgil, Tom showed a much keener interest and invited me in to MacDonald’s for a drink.  Ed rescued me.  “Oh the kids doesn’t drink; but he might like a cigar”.   As they ordered drinks, I puffed away in my best imitation of a Kentucky colonel; however I soon excused myself, saying that I had to target my 30-30 rifle for the upcoming deer season. I puffed until I was out of sight. The corn silk I had scorched behind the barn paid off. I didn’t disgrace myself, nor had I broken my pledge to my mother not to gamble, use profanity, drink, or perform any act inconsistent with the conduct of a gentleman.   I took my rifle northwest of Arrow to Fawn Creek. 

It was a beautiful fall day.  The aspen were just beginning to turn.  Fawn Creek Gulch had been burned over many years before by the Indians who hoped in this way to discourage settlers, and the aspen were all young, straight and shimmering in the way that has never ceased to delight me.  The fire thirty years before had made the gulch an excellent place for deer hunting because the new growth gave the deer some inviting protection, but the terrain was open enough for a hunter to locate his game.   I figured I’d have to shoot from at least 200 yards, so I planned to target for that distance.  I tacked a piece of cardboard I’d cut from my brother’s Stetson hat box (he never took off his Stetson off anyway) to a tree and stepped off the 200 yards.  That 6-inch target looked pretty small but after each three shots, I’d examine the target.  Finally satisfied, I took a long walk looking for deer sign, tracks, or droppings.  I found good sign but no droppings.   About feeding time for the horses, I went back to the barn in town to feed the four, Cap, the big bay, Bird, the glossy black (those were my two wheel horses- t e ones next to the wheel); Kate, the little lead horse; and Bud, her mate.  

Virgil had bought Kate, a grey mare weighing about 1400 pounds, at a very reasonable price from the Adams Express Company because she had run away at every opportunity and had destroyed several wagons.  He couldn’t run away now pulling Cap, Bird and a load of lumber with her, but her high spirits made her an excellent leader. The heavier team, always used as the wheel team, weighed about 1700 pounds each.   I was very proud of this unusually fine team.  Virgil had trained Cap and Bird so that after they were harnessed in the barn, they could be turned loose to go to the watering trough, drink long and thirstily, then walk out to the wagon, back into position by the tongue, and stand ready to have the breast straps snapped in place and the tongue attached.     When tourists trains stopped and hundreds of passengers stood around the eating places looking the town over, I’d drive slowly by, and then stop to rest the team a minute, to give the dudes a chance to see a good, four-horse team. Then with a single “Yup!” I’d pull all the lines tight, and they’d start as one horse while the tourists explained and pointed.  

That Sunday after I put a gallon of oats in their food box and shook some hay into their manger, I left the barn and started up the steps alongside the depot.  It was still light; the sky hadn’t even begun to color.   Time to head home for supper.  I’d have to be up, hitched and pulled by seven the next morning. We’d probably have roast beef or roast chicken with noodles, since it was Sunday.  Mother would be cooking on the big wood-burning stove at the hotel, and my sisters would be taking the heaping platters to the tables where everyone would pass them around.  Probably there would be hot biscuits.  

Suddenly a shot cracked just above me and across the street.  I knew instantly it had come from the Wolf Saloon ahead.  It wasn’t common to hear shots in those days.  You hear more in a 20-minute Western on TV than you heard in a couple of years unless a few boys rode into town on a Saturday night to shoot up the air.   I broke into a run and could see a man lying on the board walk in front of the saloon.  As I got to him, one of the ladies I wasn’t permitted to mention came out and fell to her knees beside him. Raising the man’s head, she tried to pour whiskey down his throat.  With a queer, paralyzed feeling, I realized it was Indian Tom.  I reached for his wrist.  His hand was warm as life, but there was no pulse. Several men ran our.  “Ragland got him!” one of them shouted.  

We carried Tom’s body into MacDonald’s and laid him on a roulette table that was in the back room for repair.  Somebody went to wire for the sheriff at Hot Sulphur Springs.  Word soon reached Orman and Crook’s, and the Indian’s many friends began to jam into Arrow.    Indian Tom and Ragland had evidently had words during the afternoon and had quarrels once more before at a rodeo.  The women from the saloon said that when Indian Tom left after the quarrel, Ragland had stationed himself, gun in hand, inside the saloon door.  Everyone agreed that Ragland knew he wouldn’t have had a chance in a fair fight with Tom.  The moment they heard Tom’s spurs outside , Ragland pushed the door slightly open and shot point blank through the aperture along the hinge.  The he ran out the back door.   We searched the town inside and out for Ragland. The sheriff joined is in the search late that night, but we found no trace of him.  Just after midnight a wire came for the sheriff. Ragland had turned himself in at Hot Sulphur.  We learned later he had run to a ranch down below, borrowed a horse and ridden for his life.   A coroner’s jury was called. 

My brother Virgil, named foreman, took a firm stand.  The only verdict he intended to take out of that room was murder, and, after only a few hours, that was their verdict.  After three days, Ragland was released on $3,000 bond posted by his father, but you may be sure he didn’t show himself around Arrow.  His attorney, John A. DeWeese, got a change of venue from Grand County to Jefferson County at Golden, claiming an article in the Middle Park Times of September 7, 1906, reporting the verdict of the coroner’s jury, made it impossible for Ragland to get a fair trial in Hot Sulphur.  The article said in part: Four witnesses for the prosecution, and seven for the Defendant were examined, making eleven in all.  The testimony of the witnesses on both sides failed to show that the shooting was justifiable.  According to the testimony, the fatal shot was fired when Reynolds (Tom) had his revolver in his scabbard and when he did not even see Ragland who was standing opposite the cut-off. (As told to Donna Geyer by A.W. Lininger)                     

Topic: Railroads

Train Legends of the Moffat Road

Article contributed by Abbott Fay

The railroaders graded and bridged the trails originally made by the Indians and expanded by the trappers, prospector and stage road builders that following in rapid succession. The

Moffat Road
train track has an almost endless series of wreck stories and legends.  In one, a "green clerk" was said to have piled all the mail order catalogs on the same side of a car, causing the train to leave the tracks and roll down the mountainside into Yankee Doodle Lake.

 

In another lost train story, the No. 3 westbound was seven hours late out of Denver because of a severe winter blizzard.  It crept out of the Fraser Canyon and whistled for the Granby Crossing.  The engineer parked the train intending to wait till daylight to continue on.  In the meantime, the No. 2 eastbound, 2 days late out of Craig reached Corona without passing the No. 3. In the morning, all were amazed to find the train parked "plumb center" of Granby's main street. Later investigation showed that the No. 3 train left the train tracks just east of Granby and traveled almost a mile over frozen highway.  The next day a Chinook wind came up and melted the frozen soil, sinking the train to it's axles in mud. It required the building of 1500 feet of special track to salvage the train. However, some longtime Granby residents say the locale of this incident was the Kremmling flats.

 

Sources: Roland L. Ives, Folklore of Middle Park Colorado,Journal of American Folklore, Vol. XXXIV, Nos. 211, 212, 1941; Levette J. Davidson & Forrester Blake, Rocky Mountain Tales, University of Oklahoma Press, 1947

     

 

Error message

  • Notice: Undefined index: quantity in omega_views_mini_pager() (line 234 of /var/www/html/docroot/sites/all/themes/omega/omega/inc/theme.inc).
  • Notice: Undefined index: quantity in omega_views_mini_pager() (line 234 of /var/www/html/docroot/sites/all/themes/omega/omega/inc/theme.inc).

Skiing