The Bachelor Tour
“The cemetery.” Earl smacked his forehead with his hand. “Of course! That’s pretty much due west of town.”
Ike clapped Earl on the back. “By George, I think that’s it.” He grinned at the kids. “I’d say your search starts at the cemetery.”
“But what about the other side?” asked Max.
Once again, Ike took his index finger and traced the line. “It looks like a creek. I’d say it’s the split of East and West Willow Creek outside of town. I don’t understand the words ‘low’ and ‘tight,’ though. I don’t know. I’ll think on it. Are you folks staying here in town?”
Slim shook his head. “No, we’re out at the KOA campground.”
“Come back in after you’ve been up to the cemetery and we’ll see if we can help some more. I’ll have Helen look up those two names in the town papers and see if we can verify that they were here.”
“It might help you to take the Bachelor driving tour,” Earl said. “It would give you a feel for the area’s history, and it does end at the cemetery. You might kill two birds with one stone.” He pulled out one of the tour guides, but before he could say more Dorie held out their copy.
“Thanks, but we have one,” she said. “Cassidy over at the information center sold us one. She said you two were the ones to ask about the map, and she was right.”
Ike beamed. “Cassidy, she’s a good girl. Her daddy’s the sheriff. I’ve known him since he was knee-high to a grasshopper.”
After filing out of the museum, the group gathered at the gazebo in the middle of the park.
“Should we go on the driving tour now?” asked Grandma.
Chad’s eyes lit up and he stared across the street. “I want to eat at the hot dog place. Please, Grandpa, can’t we eat at the Hotdog Heaven?” He grabbed his grandpa’s hand and bounced up and down.
“I don’t think we’ll do that today, Chad. It’s kind of early to eat yet.” Grandpa looked at his watch. “It’s only 10:45 now.”
Chad’s lip drooped into a pout. “But the lady said it’s a great place to eat, and cheap too. I’m starving and . . .”
“Chad,” Grandpa said. “You know we said at the beginning of this trip that we would be on a tight budget. We aren’t going there now and I don’t want to hear another word about it from you.”
Chad plopped down onto the ground and put his head in his hands. They don’t care if I shrivel up and die. He tried hard not to cry.
“Maybe we could have a picnic,” Grandma said. “It’s not far back to the camper. We can put together a nice basket of food to take with us. Surely there’s some place we can eat on the way.”
“That sounds fun!” said Molly. “I want to get on the driving tour so we can find what’s on the map.”
“Me too,” said Max. “I’m a little hungry but maybe a snack will help.”
“There are some Oreos left at the camper.” Dorie grinned at Max.
Grandpa pushed his hat back on his head. “All-righty then. Let’s get going.” Chad felt his grandpa’s hand on his shoulder. “You’d better get up and improve your attitude, Chad, or you and I will be staying at the campsite while the others go on the picnic. You do have the right to choose your actions, but you don’t get to choose the consequences.”
Startled, Chad jumped up, rubbed his eyes, and followed the others to the van.
Forty-five minutes later they had packed a lunch and were back in the van headed out to the north edge of town. Dorie looked at the tour guide and then peered out the window. “You guys will have to help me watch for stuff,” she said. “The first thing we should pass is the underground firehouse. It’s supposed to be on the left.” She studied the map.
“There it is,” said Brandon. He pointed out the window to the left of the van. “See the sign?”
“Pretty soon we’ll be coming to a Y in the road,” Dorie said. “That’s where Willow Creek splits into east and west.”
“On the map from Zach it looks like we should go down the east road,” said Max. “I think we should go down the east creek road.”
“We can’t,” said Dorie. “The tour guide says it’s not a good enough road for us to take.”
“But how are we going to find the answer if the road isn’t good enough?” asked Molly.
“Here’s the Y,” said Slim. “Let’s go on around the west road and see what we can find out. There isn’t any guarantee this Y is the one on Zach’s map.”
“Plus the men at the museum thought we needed to go to the cemetery,” said Carly. “Do you think the map could be trying to show us two different places?”
“I suppose so,” said Max.
“Look up there.” Chad pointed out the left side window.
“That’s where the mining district starts,” said Dorie, reading from the booklet. “I think that was the Commodore Mine.” She whistled under her breath. “There are almost two hundred miles of tunnels and underground workings lying within the mine.” She looked up and gazed across the creek, her eyes searching the landscape. “Look over there.” She pointed out the window.
“What is it?” asked Carly.
“It’s what’s left of a hauling track where horses and mules used to carry ore from the mines.”
“Wow,” said Brandon. “That looks kind of dangerous.”
“It’s getting steeper here,” said Grandma.
“It sure is,” said Slim.
“This is called the Black Pitch,” Dorie said. “It was an extremely dangerous place because sometimes the wheel lock on the wagon would break and the wagon would run over the animals pulling it. They called this spot ‘Dead Horse Flats.’”
“What’s a wheel lock?” asked Chad.
“A wheel lock is a system the drivers would use to slow wagons,” Grandpa said. “A chain would be placed around one rear wheel and it was connected to a lever that the driver could adjust. When the driver felt he was going too fast or wanted to slow down, he could pull on the lever and it would tighten the chain which would slow the turning of the wheel.”
“That sounds pretty ingenious,” said Max.
“It was,” agreed Grandpa. “The problem was, like Dorie said, it didn’t always work. Sometimes they would break, and the results were disastrous.”
“I bet this wasn’t an easy place to live and work,” said Carly.
“No, but it’s so pretty here.” Molly gazed out the window at the mountains and trees. “And so lonely. I bet it’s cold here in the winter.”
“Brr,” said Dorie. “I bet it is. I get a chill even thinking about it.” She rubbed her arms.
As they followed the road through the mountains, Dorie read about each point on the map. At the twelfth one she said, “We are at 10,526 feet elevation.”
“Wow,” said Max. “That’s pretty high.”
“Look.” Grandma pointed to her right. “There’s a meadow that would be a great place for our picnic. I don’t know about all of you, but I’m getting hungry.”
“Me too.” Chad bounced in his seat.
“This is the site of Bachelor,” Dorie said. “At one time it was a pretty big town. Hey, listen to this.” Dorie read from the guide. “Mining activity in the winter of 1891–1892 greatly increased the population, and Bachelor City sprang into existence as if by magic and became a bustling, rowdy boom town, just walking distance from the Last Chance and other important mines in the area.” She looked up at the others. “I bet Zach and Matthew came here.”
“Didn’t Zach leave in the fall of 1891?” asked Brandon.
“I think you’re right, Brandon,” said Carly.
“They could have been here when the boom started,” said Slim.
The van pulled off to the side of the road and the family piled out.
“We’d better keep our eyes peeled for any clues,” said Max.
“But there’s nothing here for our peeled eyes to see,” said Chad. “Where did the town go?” The meadow was completely empty. There were no buildings, just wide open space with the meadow grass blowing gently in the breeze.
“It is hard to believe there was ever a town here,” said Slim. “But buildings fall down when they aren’t cared for. I guess everyone moved away and it all eventually fell down.”
“Maybe they moved them,” Grandpa said. “Back in the early 1900s in the Sand Hills of Nebraska they put buildings up on poles and rolled them across the hills to move them from one place to another. It was faster than rebuilding, and they didn’t have a lot of lumber. My dad used to talk about it.” Grandpa grinned. “Of course, I don’t think they were hurting for lumber around here!”
“This says there were about twelve hundred people that lived here,” Dorie said.
“That’s about three times as big as Creede is now,” said Brandon. “I read in one of the pamphlets that there are 377 in Creede. Three times 377 is 1,131. That’s pretty close to 1,200.”
“Wowie-pizowie,” said Molly. “How do you do math in your head?”
“I don’t know.” Brandon shrugged.
Dorie looked at Brandon in amazement. His face turned red as the family all looked at him.
“I just figure it in my head.”
“It’s called mental arithmetic,” said Grandma. “All of the students used to be tested in it when my parents were young. In order to graduate from eighth grade you had to pass a mental arithmetic test.”
Carly shook her head. “I’d be in real trouble then. I can’t ever remember the last step I just did. I have to write everything down.”
“Here’s a fact to remember,” Dorie said. “This booklet says there were three parks in this town.”
“We can pretend we are in the park enjoying a picnic,” said Molly.
“Here,” Grandma said. “If we all carry something we can get all of it in one trip.” She handed the basket of food, a couple of old army blankets, and a few folding picnic chairs to the children. “Chad and Molly, you two run ahead and find us a nice flat place to put our blanket and chairs. Besides, you need to run off some energy.”
“I’ll race you to that rock over there.” Molly pointed across the field.
Chad didn’t wait but dashed off toward the meadow. He hollered over his shoulder, “Ready, set, go!”
“No fair!” Molly sprinted after him.