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Travels of Rose Gerstner

 

From: Martin Paule <paulfolk@intrepid.net>

Subject: Tales of the "Old" West

Date: Sat, 16 Jan 1999 12:42:20 -0500

 

Smitty,

I hope you take a break from the drywalling today to write another

installment of your travel tales.

Miren,

so good to hear from you! Was Marcellus friends with a guy named

Aaron and they used to come to CYO dances? Aaron had buggy eyes. Do I

have the right people?

John,

I was about to ask you for some tales of the West when you obliged.

I am hoping to revisit the Rockies at some point. My experiences with them

were very fun and positive. I have seen the Grand Canyon from the rim, but

always longed to actually travel in it. Would love to hear more as you have

time.

The talk of Wyoming reminded me of visits to my Uncle Louie's

house. He and his family were ranchers and lived near Ten Sleep, WY. One

one trip when I was about 8 years old, I remember watching dozens of

shooting stars from my bed outdoors and then drifting off to sleep. I woke

up rather disoriented in the morning because in the middle of the night my

brother, sister and cousins carried my bed to the other side of the house

as I slept. The rooster standing on my chest when I awoke was also a tad

distracting. That was the year our family travelled on to Yellowstone

Park. We spent the night in two tiny cabins on park grounds. It got so

cold at night my Mom decided to build a fire in the wood stove, but had

trouble getting it lit. She went next door to get help from my Dad and

while she was on the way got cornered by a black bear who had been looting

garbage in the area. Fortunately my Dad was a light sleeper and rescued

her after a few minutes of fear.

Another year after leaving Uncle Louie's, we attempted a shortcut

and got hopelessly lost in the scrub, thermos out of water, all four kids

(we were teens by then and Jane was there) carsick, gas tank on empty and

driving along a stream bed. Eventually my Dad saw electric wires and

headed for them where we found a small gas station--so much for that

shortcut!

In recent years, I took my kids and husband to Louie's--he was my

favorite uncle! Even after bypass heart surgery, Louie was fit enough to

guide us the 4 miles or so on foot to a cave near their homestead with

Native American paintings. In addition to ranching he had been the school

bus driver, piloting the children over the mountain roads through all kinds

of weather. In winter, he would stay in town rather than make the 22 mile

trek back home during the day and as a result often inherited odd jobs such

as gravedigging. Apparently he had dug many a grave in the frozen earth

because on my last visit he confided that when he died he hoped it would be

in the dead of winter so someone else would have to dig through frozen

ground. He was a cantankerous old guy, but awfully fun! Alas, he died in

the Springtime. He was quite a character, though. He was the only person

I have ever met who could roll a cigarette with one hand while astride a

horse!

Enough for now.

Rose

 

 

 

 
 
 
 
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January 18, 1999