How did we spend our time? What did you do for recreation when you were young? These and other questions have been asked many times by my daughters and their friends. There were no playgrounds or supervised activities in those days. No hot rods or bus service to take us to the ball ground, but we made out all right.   The hills and canyons were our playgrounds and an abandoned mine dump was our ball ground. We lacked the play equipment of today, but we did not lack in enthusiasm or imagination. The boys were pretty good in making guns and many of the boarders at the places in Carr Fork were handy with a knife and would whittle out guns and swords for us. The gulches were made to order for the roving cowboy gangs and the skulking Indian tribes. We had Cottonwood, Dixon, Deadhorse and Markham to explore and hunt down the marauding outlaws. Throw in a few abandoned mines and shacks and you had the perfect Western setting. We had the good fortune to have the aerial tramway going over our territory. This tramway transported the ore from the Yampa Mine in Highland Boy to the headhouse in Frogtown. At one time it went direct to the Yampa Smelter, but the smelter was closed down before I arrived in Bingham. We would climb up the towers that supported the track and cables that controlled the buckets and “rob” the buckets of their precious cargo. We all carried sample sacks and it was a lucky day when one of us would get a shiny lump of pyrite of iron, “fools gold”.

It was a thrill to catch a ride across some of the shallow gulches and draws the cable line transversed. Some of the braver boys even rode the buckets across Markham Gulch, but I remember one boy who spent about an hour in a bucket suspended over the deepest part of Markham while the tramway was shut down for repairs. We were as scared as he was and didn’t think we would ever see him alive again. After the tramway was abandoned, we still used the track as a means of transportation across gullies. We would use a bent iron or large bolt and with the iron across the track we would run and lift up our feet and sail over space. One spring a friend of mine lost his grip over Deadhorse Gulch and fell about twenty feet. He fell in deep snow, but hit a tree limb in the snow and broke an arm and leg. For a long time thatstopped this form of recreation.  Another favorite stunt was to get a long rope and tie it to the top track of the tramway and then get up the hill a ways with the other end of the rope in your hands and then swing out hundreds of feet into space. One day the rope broke and Bert Terry went headfirst into a pile of oak brush. I shall never forget how his head looked when we picked him up. A sharp branch nearly scalped him, but he got over his injury all-okay, but that put an end to space travel on the aerial tramway.  The old abandoned mine shafts and shacks provided an exciting playground and there was always an atmosphere of mystery and excitement in exploring them. We were careful about going too far into these mines as we were warned about the bad air. We used a lantern made from a tin can and a candle inside. The shiny bottom of the can served as a reflector and a few nail holes in the top let out the smoke without affecting the flame. If the flame would flicker a bit we would retrace our steps.

There was a gold producing mine in Dixon Gulch when I lived at the B&G. An old Italian named Gardella owned and operated this mine. He was a miner, mucker, timberman, assayer, and engineer. He had a small ditch bringing water from far up Dixon to his sluice boxes near the mine entrance and we used to float boats in the little stream. We kept clear of Gardella though. He had a double-barreled shotgun and they say he was not afraid to use it on any trespassers. He had a small forge and hand bellows that he used to sharpen his tools. Native oak and maple was used to timber his mine,and it was hardly high enough for a small boy to walk upright in it. When he left for his native Italy, there were may stories and legends about the amount of gold he took with him and his cabin and mine were searched by many in the hopes of finding his cache of gold. He never returned and no one seemed to know what happened to him.  Far up Dixon across from the U & I Mine, there was another mine tunnel, unnamed for some reason, and it was there we had our swimming hole. There was a sizable stream of ice-cold water flowing from this mine and we dammed up this mine dump and that was where we paddled around. It was hardly deep enough for swimming, but we had a lot of fun in that old place. The oak brush came down to the edge of the water. The mud in the bottom was about a foot thick and it was great sport to plaster each other with mud. The water was invigorating. I am reminded of these enthusiasts that break the ice to go swimming. We never broke the ice, but the water was only a degree or two from freezing, at least that was my impression. What a thrill it was to get out of that cold water, hurry and dress and then dash down the mountain in pursuit of Indians and outlaws. What did we do in those days? What did we do for fun? I hope I have let you relive those memorable days in good old Bingham!

(January 6, 1961)