Honeymoon of my Dreams
We have photos of the suitor of our granddaughter on a mountain trail in California. On bended knee, he was looking into the eyes of Crystal and asking for her hand in marriage. I had the privilege of conducting the ceremony in our back yard. As for me, I had practiced my proposal to Ginger. All I could come up with was four words: “Will you marry me?”
After Ginger’s later acceptance of my proposal, there was the trip to Denver for the purchase of the engagement and wedding ring. I had never been engaged before and I had not asked anyone how to do it properly. I overlooked the protocol of asking Ginger’s parents their permission. All the current experts at that time were silent on that issue. She just showed up at her house wearing her engagement ring. Hey guys, having been exposed to the correct way, I would give my firm endorsement of scheduling an appointment with the intended’s parents, at least the dad.
Something I had not taken into account was the fact that I had registered with the Selective Service. At that time, we were in the Korean Conflict and they were drafting young men for military service. In the spring of 1953, I received my greetings from Uncle Sam and on May 15th, I raised my hand, took a step forward that would ultimately affect the rest of my life. We had decided that the wisest thing for the two of us was to wait until my life had some semblance of order, and that we would postpone marriage plans until Ginger graduated from High School and I had gotten basic training behind me. I remember on the 13th of May, driving up Clear Creek with Ginger and my mother, wondering if I would ever return to this mountain paradise I had come to love. On the 14th, after embracing Ginger and shaking hands with my dad, I boarded the bus in Salida and waving to them as the bus pulled away, I thought, will this be the last time I see these important people In my life.
The hustle and bustle of Army life soon enveloped me. The training and the discipline of becoming a soldier occupied each day from very early in the day until sometimes into the night. However, I had carved out a time each day to read my Bible to feed my newfound faith. There was also time, sometimes under the exit light, to write to Ginger. Almost every day I would write. Her letters began coming. Most of the contents, either going or coming, was romantic stuff, going over the expression of how much we loved one another and our future together. She would seal the envelope and leaving the imprint of her lips, write over her lip print “S.W.A.K.”
In reverie of thought one evening, I began to think of our honeymoon. There are many exotic places in the world to go following the wedding but to me It wasn’t Maui or Puerta Vallarta. It was Brown’s Cabin at timberline at the head of Texas Creek. No interruptions, just the two of us. We would be treated daily to the pristine views of some of the most beautiful scenes in the Rocky Mountains.
Brown’s Cabin was a two story mountain home for miners who had worked in the tunnel of the mine just a short distance from the cabin’s back door. Pure water flowed from a spring near the cabin. Actually, my grandfather had owned the mine at one time. We have papers written by the assessor as to the details of the findings of the mine. In the upper story were scales and other instruments used by those in the mining industry plus an ancient typewriter.
As a 15 year old boy, I was a part of an elk hunting party, led by my dad and his team of horses, Buster and Brownie who pulled an old wagon filled with supplies to this magnificent spot. It’s earlier seasonal resident was a man by the name of Homer Brown, an oldster who lived in Buena Vista during the winter. In the spring he would load supplies on a donkey to spend the summer at “Brown’s Cabin”. When I was just a boy, my father took me to Homer’s home in BV and after listening to him bounce the bow off the strings of a fiddle, as he played “Nothing but the Blood,” my father bought one of his two fiddles for me.
As I described our honeymoon spot to Ginger, I could envision the magnificent scenes that made up the panorama of the surrounding mountains . The only access into this awesome place was by foot or horseback. Access from the Buena Vista side was up Middle Cottonwood Creek. Taking a right at Denny Creek you would follow the trail upward and northward over the top. The cabin was situated just below timberline on the Western Slope. Winding downward from Brown’s Cabin was a trail to the prime fishing waters of Texas Creek. To the west was The Pieplant, a once productive gold mine. My father, as a young man, led a pack train of mules, loaded with ore, from the Pieplant eastward, across the creek and up past my grandfather’s mine, over the top of the Continental Divide to Cottonwood Creek where the ore was loaded into wagons. To the north was a rim of sheer and extremely high cliffs rising on the east side of the springs of the headwaters of Texas Creek. Just over the top of those cliffs was Bear Lake, a large and a very high mountain lake, a good distance above timberline.
As a soldier contemplating marriage, for me this was my dream of the ultimate honeymoon. However, this dream was never fulfilled. Our marriage did take place which was of God and was a dream fulfilled. The dream of the honeymoon at Brown’s cabin was neither God’s plan nor practical (A Christmas Eve Journey up Denny Creek was not advisable and would be nearly impossible).
In life, there are things that are here for us to enjoy. We can enjoy them ourselves but they may not be a part of God’s future plan for us or for another person. A good question to ask: Is it just my dream or is it in God’s plan.
This is Brown’s Cabin near Texas Creek.