The road was plagued with deep craters that were created by the rain; along with the craters were the rocks that were embedded pass the earth's surface. Some of the rocks protruded high enough in the road that driving over them caused a forceful jarring of my whole body. Once I felt this, it brought a strong realization that I was just moments away from one of my favorite places.
After we made the wide turn near the big pine tree my eyes coundn't help noticing the colors of the family cabin. It was a log cabin that had been carefully crafted with white mortar that surrounded the red painted logs. This unique distinction had been forever imprinted in my mind along with the numerous memories that have taken place there. Upon arriving I could smell the aroma of pine trees and I could hear the distant sound of rushing water. My first stop would be to look over the fire pit and see what changes occuried while I was gone. The hours spent by the fire pit were one of my favorite times, even with the game of trying to escape the choking smoke. The songs and stories that were shared made the smoke bearable.
Not far from the fire area was the outhouse. It was far enough away that you followed a path that lead up to it. This trip always seemed to be a cold one. (and surprising if aunt Bonnie was there) The other side of the cabin had a steep trail that led down to the swift Colorado river. I would brave the trail often. Once by the river bed, I would explore the grounds for flat rocks that could be skipped across the waters top. At times I would dangle my feet in the cold water and get lost in watching the waves plow passed anything in its way.
Inside the colorful cabin was three rooms that were draped off with cloth doors. Each room had a bed or two. The main room consisted of a kitchen table and chairs, a stove that was heated onlywith burning wood, a large white sink, and a small refrigerator. This room also housed two couches and a few comfy chairs in which I lounged around in after a long day of hiking, fishing, and playing.
I remember the log beams that spanned the inside length of the cabin. These logs were brouwn instead of the red that decorated the outside. They had a few nails that poked out long enough to hang lanterns on. Often my grandfather would tease about hanging me on one of those nails. Even long after he passed on, those anils made me think back to joyful teasing that my grandfather and I shared.
Okay humor me. I took a childrens literature course over the mail and for one of my assignments I had to write about a place I had been to. Of course the cabin was the first place I thought of, I have had so many fond memories there, with those I love. How lucky I was as a child to have a loving family who had access to a cabin near a river in the beautiful mountains. I wish my children could have memories like these. Instead they will remember how mom dreaded going out on the boat with all the other boaters. If only I had my own lake.
5 comments:
Danette, the cabin is still a good memory for me. We spent many days and nights there. The time of our last reunion there, the evening that we were going to have a bonfire, It rained and hailed so hard that it made a hole in a plastic bucket as big as an egg. The cars parked there had dent damage too. I guess you take the bad with the good. We had a wonderful time inside the cabin. We shared some good memories. Grandma Gatha
Danette, I can picture cabin and many of the wonderful times there. I think the most memorable is one year when I went to the cabin one December with my family when Rob and Andi were little. We left the car by the highway, and it's a good thing we did.
Snow fell during the night and we got to hike out in snow that was waist deep. We got quite a workout and I never again had a desire to stay up there in the middle of the winter.
I remember when the cabin became part of the Dunn Family Organization's property. Before that the campground down below was undeveloped and you could come and go with impunity. As time goes on the liberties we enjoyed as children have been continually eroded.
Down below the Dunn cabin is the foundation of a cabin that was there when my mother and father were married. They spent their honeymoon down there. That is what I am told. Dad used to talk about the mountain lion that stalked them while they were in the cabin. He claimed that it was shrieking outside while they tried to sleep inside. In the morning there were footprints around and on the cabin.
Not far up the canyon from where the cabin resides is where the homestead was. Conejos Ranch is part of the land that comprised part of the homestead. Further up the canyon was a small log cabin on the edge of a tall precipice. Dad used to tell us that he was born there. He was not, but I believed it for a long time.
Do you remember the rock in the middle of the Conejos river that had ice on it all year around?
It was actually an advertisement painted on the rock for Lee's Texaco in Antonito. It was there until some environmentalist got his/her undies in a bundle and the paint was removed from the rock.
Too bad the historical society wasn't as strong as the environmentalists.
I still tell the kids about the rock that had ICE on it year round. I have mixed feelings about the painted signs being removed from the rock surfaces. I do not see much difference between road signs on pieces of plywood blocking the view or white paint on a rock.
I would not like to see everybody go out with some paint and put their own signs on the rocks.
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