to glimpse the scenery as the Jeep joggled over a deep rut.
The trees were mostly evergreens, tall and sweet-smelling. Colorful summer wildflowers brushed the sides of the car. Violet had brought her camera, but she’d have to wait until they stopped before she could take any pictures.
Suddenly Grandfather braked hard. They had run out of road.
“Is this it?” asked Benny. “Is this the land you bought?”
Grandfather leaned out of the Jeep’s open door. “Not yet. There should be a trail beyond this road. Is that right, Jessie?”
Now she could read the map. “Yes, that’s right. The trail doesn’t look very long.”
“At the end of that trail, the property starts.” James Alden grabbed a water bottle in a mesh holder and slung the strap across his shoulder. “Okay, everybody. Let’s go!”
Where the rutted, potholed road ended, a narrow trail continued through the trees.
It was a beautiful day for a walk up the mountain. The sun shone brightly in the blue midsummer sky.
“We’re at a higher altitude than we were in Connecticut,” Henry informed them. “Walking is harder here.”
“The altitude doesn’t seem to bother Benny,” Violet said with a giggle.
“Nothing does,” added Jessie. “Except being late for a meal!” Their younger brother was always hungry.
She was a little hungry herself. Upon their arrival at Eagles Nest, Mrs. Harrington had served them a rather skimpy lunch. From reading the brochure, Jessie knew that Eagles Nest called itself a resort. It was supposed to offer all kinds of activities. The pictures in the glossy pamphlet showed people riding horses and eating delicious-looking meals in the family-style dining room. Eagles Nest even served an afternoon snack.
But when the Aldens had pulled up by the tilted wagon-wheel gate, the run-down cabins didn’t look like the ones pictured in the brochure. The three cabins they had reserved weren’t ready. Mrs. Harrington’s pretty daughter, Marianne, hurried to make up the beds.
Lunch was also late. Instead of the hearty “rancher’s” meals the pamphlet promised, they had tuna salad with crackers. There were several cabins, but only two other men were eating in the dining room. Mrs. Harrington had said she was expecting another party later that day.
When Jessie questioned Grandfather about the place, he had replied, “Perhaps Mrs. Harrington has fallen on hard times. Eagles Nest was built back in the fifties. It was probably popular back then. But now it’s off the beaten path. Since she became a widow, Mrs. Harrington hasn’t kept up the place.”
“There aren’t any horses or hot-air balloon rides,” Jessie had stated, showing him the brochure.
Grandfather shook his head. “Mrs. Harrington told me while you children were unloading the car that she sold the horses years ago. The balloon rides were on another mountain, but that company went out of business, too.”
“Well, we’re only going to be here a week,” Jessie had said. How bad could it be? she thought.
Grandfather had nodded in agreement. “With this cool air and these majestic mountains, we’ll feel like pioneers living in those rustic cabins!”
Jessie was pulled out of her thoughts when Benny ran back to her.
“How much farther?” he asked. “It seems like we’ve been walking forever!”
Grandfather wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. “I sure wish my land wasn’t on the highest mountain in the Rockies.”
“Is it?” asked Violet.
“No,” said Grandfather. “I was just joking. But when I was out here earlier, I thought this was the highest mountain!”
Jessie consulted the survey map one last time. “The trail should be ending right about — ” She broke off when the path they had been climbing sloped away at their feet.
Everyone stared at the astonishing sight down below, set squarely like a child’s blocks.
At the bottom of the canyon were old wooden buildings. Weathered signs were still readable: a barbershop, a
The trees were mostly evergreens, tall and sweet-smelling. Colorful summer wildflowers brushed the sides of the car. Violet had brought her camera, but she’d have to wait until they stopped before she could take any pictures.
Suddenly Grandfather braked hard. They had run out of road.
“Is this it?” asked Benny. “Is this the land you bought?”
Grandfather leaned out of the Jeep’s open door. “Not yet. There should be a trail beyond this road. Is that right, Jessie?”
Now she could read the map. “Yes, that’s right. The trail doesn’t look very long.”
“At the end of that trail, the property starts.” James Alden grabbed a water bottle in a mesh holder and slung the strap across his shoulder. “Okay, everybody. Let’s go!”
Where the rutted, potholed road ended, a narrow trail continued through the trees.
It was a beautiful day for a walk up the mountain. The sun shone brightly in the blue midsummer sky.
“We’re at a higher altitude than we were in Connecticut,” Henry informed them. “Walking is harder here.”
“The altitude doesn’t seem to bother Benny,” Violet said with a giggle.
“Nothing does,” added Jessie. “Except being late for a meal!” Their younger brother was always hungry.
She was a little hungry herself. Upon their arrival at Eagles Nest, Mrs. Harrington had served them a rather skimpy lunch. From reading the brochure, Jessie knew that Eagles Nest called itself a resort. It was supposed to offer all kinds of activities. The pictures in the glossy pamphlet showed people riding horses and eating delicious-looking meals in the family-style dining room. Eagles Nest even served an afternoon snack.
But when the Aldens had pulled up by the tilted wagon-wheel gate, the run-down cabins didn’t look like the ones pictured in the brochure. The three cabins they had reserved weren’t ready. Mrs. Harrington’s pretty daughter, Marianne, hurried to make up the beds.
Lunch was also late. Instead of the hearty “rancher’s” meals the pamphlet promised, they had tuna salad with crackers. There were several cabins, but only two other men were eating in the dining room. Mrs. Harrington had said she was expecting another party later that day.
When Jessie questioned Grandfather about the place, he had replied, “Perhaps Mrs. Harrington has fallen on hard times. Eagles Nest was built back in the fifties. It was probably popular back then. But now it’s off the beaten path. Since she became a widow, Mrs. Harrington hasn’t kept up the place.”
“There aren’t any horses or hot-air balloon rides,” Jessie had stated, showing him the brochure.
Grandfather shook his head. “Mrs. Harrington told me while you children were unloading the car that she sold the horses years ago. The balloon rides were on another mountain, but that company went out of business, too.”
“Well, we’re only going to be here a week,” Jessie had said. How bad could it be? she thought.
Grandfather had nodded in agreement. “With this cool air and these majestic mountains, we’ll feel like pioneers living in those rustic cabins!”
Jessie was pulled out of her thoughts when Benny ran back to her.
“How much farther?” he asked. “It seems like we’ve been walking forever!”
Grandfather wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. “I sure wish my land wasn’t on the highest mountain in the Rockies.”
“Is it?” asked Violet.
“No,” said Grandfather. “I was just joking. But when I was out here earlier, I thought this was the highest mountain!”
Jessie consulted the survey map one last time. “The trail should be ending right about — ” She broke off when the path they had been climbing sloped away at their feet.
Everyone stared at the astonishing sight down below, set squarely like a child’s blocks.
At the bottom of the canyon were old wooden buildings. Weathered signs were still readable: a barbershop, a
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