Mr. Stevens has a fine ranch here, plenty of water, nice buildings, and all the conveniences. He is one of Colorado’s best-known cattle men, being a member of the State Commission. We said good-bye to him the next morning and started for the Cochetopa Pass over the Continental Divide. Mr. Stevens had told us that was about the only way a wagon could get over.
It was twelve miles to Gunnison and the road followed the river closely. It was a beautiful morning and we enjoyed this stretch of road very much. We passed many campers’ cabins, all fishermen; also hotels and tents. All the fishermen we interviewed said the fish were not biting, so we felt better. One always feels less dissatisfied with his own failures if other people are likewise unfortunate.
At ten-thirty we reached the town of Gunnison. Here we had a wagon wheel set, one of the horses shod, and bought a few provisions, and on making inquiry were told we would have to cross the Continental Divide via Cochetopa Pass to Salida. We figured this to be seventy-five miles farther than Marshall or Monarch Pass, but were advised not to try Monarch as it was impassable for a wagon. So having had plenty of experience with bad roads we promised to go via Cochetopa, and started out again, leaving Gunnison at 3 P. M. We drove only about six miles when we found a good place to camp and a brook that looked as though there might be trout in it, so we stopped right there.
We were at the “parting of the ways.” To go south over Cochetopa was our intention, but Brad thought we were not living up to the record we had made up to date unless we went straight east over Monarch. He thought we would not know whether we had been told the truth or not, unless we tried to get over; and that seventy-five miles looked a long distance out of the way to me, so we were glad of a chance to stop at the “parting of the ways” to consider.
A CAMP SITE ON THE GUNNISON
About this time a “schooner” came down the road from the direction of Monarch, and we could not resist the temptation to hail them and inquire if they had come over Monarch Pass, and were delighted to find that they had come over that way from Salida. They had travelled from Oklahoma and were going to Delta, one of the towns we had come through, to take up some fruit land. We could not tell them much about Delta, but they told us all we wanted to know about Monarch Pass. They had come over, and that was enough for us. We could do anything anybody else did, or we thought so. However, I did ask how the trail was and if they thought we could get over. Claudie (as his wife called him) said: “Well, we got over, and I only tipped the old lady and kids over once, but I imagine it is harder getting up from this side.” The “old lady,” a buxom young woman of about twenty-four, laughed and said they were not hurt any and she thought we could get over if we had come from California without a smashup.
So we settled it right there that we would go over the Continental Divide at Monarch Pass, or break something, and so while the boys fished we got supper. They came back without a fish, but after supper caught three, two rainbow and one brook trout, about half a pound each.
The next morning we started for Sargent, a little town at the foot of Marshall Pass and just south of the trail over Monarch Pass. The roads were good, and, although we were climbing up all day, we made about twenty-four miles and camped one mile from Sargent. On the way the boys tried to catch some fish in a brook, but without success.
We find the deer flies bother the horses a good deal during the day and at night the mosquitoes are a pest, but by 9 P. M. the cold drives them away. We have beautiful warm days, but up here in the mountains the nights are cold.