Scorched playhouse

When I was four or five I had a playhouse of sorts. It was an old wooden trailer that was left in our yard by the people who had owned our house before. It was one little bare room with a couple of small windows and a built-in cupboard at one end. It always smelled like wet, stale crackers because my friends and I played house out there with my dishes, and crackers and water were all that I was allowed to take out to eat. One October day I begged my mother to let me take my new jack-o-lantern out to the playhouse. I promised her that I would be very careful with the lit candle and nothing bad would happen. She said "no." She did light the candle and put the pumpkin in the utility room window where I could see it from the playhouse. While she was in another room, I took it out to the playhouse anyway. As you would expect, my friends and I enjoyed having it close by, but soon forgot about it and left. The candle burned down, caught the pumpkin on fire, and scorched the cupboard. Luckily, my parents caught it before the whole place burned down. That was the end of my playhouse days. It pays to obey your mother.

Oops ! ! !

Before our family went to BYU, and for many summers while we were there, Grandpa worked as a heavy equipment operater running a Catepillar D-9 bulldozer on highway construction jobs. He worked on a number of jobs building Interstate 80 across Nevada. One of the jobs stretched from Golconda summit, a few miles north of the little town of Golconda, to the flats south of town. Chip Montrose, his boss on this job, sent him with his D-9 Cat to start a gravel pit. He began by sticking the dozer’s ripper (see the teeth on the back of the bulldozer in the picture) into the ground to check for hard rock. Instead of breaking rock, he broke the city water line. Oops. The whole town was without water for several hours while they made repairs. Grandpa didn’t get in trouble for the mess though, because he started ripping exactly where Chip had told him to.

Hike to Chimney Rock

When Di put a post on her blog about hiking, it brought back my memories about a very special hiking trip with our family.

During the summer of 1982 we decided to take a Barainca-Suker weekend camping trip to Chimney Rock. Chimney Rock is above Angel Lake at the northern end of the Ruby Mountains in Elko County, Nevada. Johnny and I had taken our girls up there when they were younger. Jacqui, Johnny and I wanted to do it again because we knew what a great experience it was and we wanted to share it with Jacqui’s family. Janet had had a knee operation earlier in the year, but was ready to give it a go. Randy, Jason (age 5) and Jared (age 3) were ready for a real adventure.

The trip involved driving to Wells, Nevada, continuing up a high, scary, winding dirt road to Angel Lake, then backpacking further up the mountain to another small lake below the mountain outcrop called Chimney Rock. The hike included scrambling up a steep mountainside and making our way through thick bushes without any trails, picking our way over a scree slope with huge tumbled boulders, and finally getting to the little glacier-fed lake near the top of the mountain. The view from our camping spot made the time and trouble well worth it. We could see the tiny town of Wells and the ranches far below. We could see roads snaking miles and miles down the valleys all around us. A tiny stream left the lake right next to our camping spot, ran through the trees, then tumbled over a cliff and down the steep mountainside.

The camping area was covered with large flat rocks. One was just the right height to be used as a table. We slept on top of the others. The lake was way too cold for the boys to get wet, but they loved throwing rocks into the water and watching the splash. There were still banks of snow on the other side of the lake so Grandpa and Randy took them around the lake to make snowballs. From there they could look right up the side of Chimney rock.
We didn’t bring any tents; we slept "under the stars." Sleeping on the ground wasn’t very comfortable and we couldn’t sleep as well as at home, but sleeping (or not) in the open on top of a mountain brought other new adventures. First, we saw a satellite flying by overhead. At that time seeing a satellite was rare. Then we saw a strange glow in the northern sky. At first we wondered what the light could be. We knew there were no cities for hundreds of miles in that direction that could light up the sky. Then we realized that we were seeing colors and faint shapes and that this had to be the Northern Lights. We had never heard of anyone seeing the Northern Lights so far south. I think it was possible because we were so high. Those of us who were awake quickly woke up anybody who was asleep so none of us would miss this rare and exciting experience.

The next morning we went back down the mountain and spent part of the day playing in and around Angel Lake. Grandpa had a two-man rubber raft. Everyone took turns paddling out on the lake while the others explored the shore.

Of all the fun we had, the most memorable thing to me was that Jason and Jared had such a good time and that they made that hike so easily. As the adults made their way up the hillside and over the rocks, the boys were like little mountain goats. They ran back and forth, jumped from rock to rock and had a delightful, noisy time. As I was struggling up the steepest part of the mountainside, the boys were ahead of us. Suddenly, Jared stopped, turned back, stretched out his little hand, and said, "I’ll help you Grandma."