Excursion to the past

My mother and her cousin Irma Yehle on the homestead

During the golden days of October this year I made an excursion to the past, not my past but to the days of my mother's childhood. My grandfather worked in the towns of Bear River and Mount Harris, which in 1913 were located about 17 miles west of Steamboat Springs. Five miles above Mount Harris Grandpa homesteaded land, yet each day he walked over rough mountain terrain to work in the mines.

When I was a child my parents and I went to the area and visited with the people who now owned the land.

My mother and I on the front stairs of the home where she lived when she was a little girl The mines had closed many years before that time, but a picture of my mother and I perched in the window of a house where she once lived, tell of the ghost town of Bear River. My mother and I in the window of the house where she once lived

After I had children we visited the site again. By that time even the foundations were gone and the only thing remaining of that mining town were the memories.

The town of Bear River once lived here

Before Alzheimer's erased so much of her memory my mother wrote fascinating stories of her life in that rugged time and place. I have long wanted to return to that country.

On a golden autumn day in October of this year I made a reservation at the Rabbit Ears Motel in Steamboat Springs and drove across the mountains to begin my research. Traveling over Berthoud Pass I encountered road construction, not an unusual thing in nice weather but it slowed me down. I stopped in Granby for lunch and got to the motel about 4:30 in the afternoon.

Since the daylight would last for awhile that evening I took my first journey to search for the spot where people once lived, worked and played in those bygone days. The spot where the mining town of Mount Harris was once located I found a marker for Mount Harris and it told of a frame school. I have a picture of my mother and the other children in front of a schoolhouse. This picture was taken when my mother was going to the Mount Harris School It's hard to believe that 86 years have gone by since that picture was taken. The school later burned and was replaced by a brick building.

After looking at the countryside I stopped at a grocery store and bought things for a light supper to eat in the motel. I once again looked at my mother's stories on my lap top computer and discovered that she had recorded the exact mileage to all the places where she had lived.

The next morning after a continental breakfast I drove 11 miles to the little town of Milner. One year when the mines closed down the company store had very few groceries, so my Grandpa along with other men walked the six miles to Milner to build a bridge over the Bear or Yampa River. The Yampa River where Grandpa helped build a bridge The bridge has been replaced now but it is the same stream that flowed through the town where my grandfather worked to buy food for his family.

I drove back to Mount Harris and took a winding gravel road that led high up Wulf Mountain, where I think the homestead was. The old homestead is now fenced in Signs posted on fences and gates warned against trespassers and hunters. I could only imagine how difficult it must have been for my grandfather to hike that five miles to work and still farm the land. Grandpa Wilson was just a little over five-foot tall and now I knew why my six-foot husband said one time, "That little man can sure walk fast. I had to hurry to keep up with him."

This is where the town of Bear River was once located Bear River was easy to locate when I found that it was two miles east of Mount Harris. When the town was being built my mother lived in a small tent. The coffee in the early mornings froze in the cups before my grandmother could get the dishes washed. After that the company built houses and my grandparents lived close to the river. Bear River, Colorado In order to have drinking water the people of the town broke the ice on the river. My grandmother insisted on boiling all of the water they used but others didn't. Soon an outbreak of typhoid fever raged through the little mining town. A sign on a road close to where the mine was once located informs the public that the ground was so contaminated it caused the death of the animals in the area. Bear River mine was once located here

Too soon my journey to the past was over and it was time for me to start home. Since I didn't want to go over Berthoud pass again I took the road through Estes Park. I stopped at Kremmling and across from the little park where we once picnicked I ate lunch and relaxed.

My mother when she lived in Bear River It was my last serene moments for what seemed like many hours. The road to Estes Park took me over Trail Ridge Road and I had to pay $10 for the privilege of being scared spitless. I finally stopped to look at the mountainside, but not for long Many years ago, when I was still a young lady, we went over that road and my fear of heights kept me so frightened I put my head in the seat to keep from looking down the sharp drop. This time I couldn't hide my eyes because they were glued to the road. There were many tourists climbing around but I spent the whole time praying that God would help me get over that huge mountain. When I reached Estes Park I felt like kissing the ground.

I was glad to get home but it didn't diminish the discoveries I had made. It was a fascinating trip into my mother's past. The treasures I found aren't tangible but they're very real.

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