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Lots of dreams came into the high country. Some were realistic while others were utter follies. This one had promise. If things didn’t work out it wasn’t because of lack of effort. Lots and lots of labor, not to mention expense, went into making this a paying proposition and maybe it was for a while. The workmanship was excellent, there was water nearby and the location was chosen with the idea that their whole livelihood and maybe even their life here, depended on it. But the high country can be a terrible mistress.

Many things could have happened to cause this going concern to slowly fade away. There were years when tanned bearded men with hand swung scythes slowly moved through the tall grass meadows, the rhythms and constancy of their labor producing wide swatches of new cut hay. Then there were years when those same men stood looking out into parched fields where the grass barely came up to their ankles, wondering if they would have to sell the herd because they couldn’t feed them that winter. Drought cares little for dreams.

Some times small pox or some other undetermined but deadly cough came roaring thru the valleys in a black terrible wave, robbing the families of their future. The families were big, they needed lots of kids to grow up strong and help work the land and when they were taken too soon so was hope. But that was life. These people were hardy, they were strong and they did not give up easily. Always the land called for its due and they provided it, or they didn’t make it. Up here failure was not caused by lack of fortitude, but sometimes fortitude wasn’t enough and hard decisions had to be made. There was no shame when the country defeated you only sorrow that perhaps that extra spark of luck wasn’t there when you needed it most.

As we pass by today and see this testament to the strength, grit and determination of these early settlers we only see the outside of their story. The slowly crumbling buildings, the fences down, the hay uncut. It is easy to dismiss this small set of buildings as just another scenic element, but people lived and loved and worked here. They gave it their lives and we can only imagine what their stories truly were. For some of them it didn’t work out, but their efforts and their lives were not wasted. This land is filled with stories of those that did make it and prospered and helped us become what we are today. Their unrecorded memories are treasures to be discovered and cherished and perhaps the next time we pass one of these forgotten dreams we can stop for a moment and celebrate their lives. Maybe they will some how know and get some comfort that they’re not forgotten.