Weld Chronicles

 This post is for Sean Minear, who has Under-Water-Rock-A-Phobia.  Abraham Lincoln is attributed with making a statement paraphrased as: "If I don't like a man, I need to get to know him better."  I struggle to find the source or documentation for this quote, but the sentiment is offered to Sean with particular regard to the rocks below the surface of Lake Webb.  The view under the lake surface is as beautiful and intriguing as the view above the lake.  While Bass Rock (also called Elephant Rock) is obviously publicly named as is Bowley Rock (also called Center Rock) as well as the reef called Dee Dee, many large, spectacular and interesting erratic rocks left by the receding glacier and moved each winter by the lake's ice remain publicly unnamed.  I've taken the liberty to name some of them.  Elephant Skin Rock and What's That Rock:  Elephant Skin Rock is just south of the cigarette buoy that marks the shallow rocky area off of Pine Point.  ...

  Each day roughly July 1 through September 7, I swim in Lake Webb.  July 1, the water temp is about 70: cool, but swimmable. Swimming provides a freedom from falls or discomfort that few activities rival. Further, it provides a vista below as well as above.  In July, I swim above the hollows in the sand filled with fish eggs in sloppy jelly and watch an attendant parent position itself between me and the eggs like linebacker or a safety.   As the water warms (about 80 at the max), a wide variety of plants grow. Some are tall and leafy, reaching for the surface and providing shelter for the many fish that allow me to join their schools.  Some are grasses, harboring algae at the base and providing a resting and mating spot for dragonflies and damsel flies. Some are plates of lily pads, sporting yellow waxy cupped flowers or white multi-petaled flowers reminiscent of lotus flowers.  The grasses and lilies harbor American Bullfrogs, whose sounds can be he...

 Huck had shot two bears, and they were hanging in his barn. A week went by. Then 10 days.  And he said, "They were gittin' ripe."  His smile extended up one side of the face, the corner of his mouth nearly touching the sparkle in his eye. Huck met a couple of hunters from New Jersey who had not gotten any bears.  These two hunters were "down in their luck;"  they did not want to return home empty handed.  "I let slip that I had just shot two bears (exact quotation)."  He sold those bears to the hunters for $100.  And I said, "Huck, I'll bet you would have given them $100 to take the bears."  "Yep."   Richard A. Miller

 In his truck, Huck and a friend visited Mr. Demars who was the self-employed woodcutter at Chase's Corner on the Phillips Road. The friend found it curious that they arrived with already cut wood in the back of the truck, but thought nothing of it until they left and the truck bed was empty. Huck had taken the opportunity to quietly and unobtrusively unload his cut wood on top of Mr. Demars's pile on the perimeter of the Phillip's Road property.  On the way home, Huck was smiling out of the side of his mouth, like he always did. "He gonna ponder that all Winta," Huck said, closing his lips tightly around his smile.  Years later, over drinks at Kawanhee Inn with the WOW group (Women of Weld), people were telling local stories.  I told this one, just as is written above.  The women immediately howled.  Later in the fall, friends in Albuquerque asked me about the culture of Weld.  What did folks do for entertainment? What do they think about and how do t...

One warm summer evening, Huck and I were talking about cemeteries in Weld.  I mentioned that I had just discovered the 5th of 5 cemeteries in Weld.   He stopped and said he knew of 4: Mt View, Center Hill, Masterman, Robertson.  He did not know of the Sennet  (sp?) Cemetery at the entrance of the Government Beach.  The next day at sunrise, he went over to check out that 5th cemetery.  I think he was somewhat miffed that I, as a non-resident, knew something about Weld that he, as a Weld native, did not.   Richard A. Miller

 1964 through likely 1970 or so, my family rented a cabin from Huck on the Williams Beach.  July of 1964, Huck was giving us a tour of the place and was so pleased with a recent improvement he had made.  He grinned widely and with obvious pride.  He had installed "a flush." For his expression, you would think it was coated in gold. For many of us, it seemed to be.  Richard A. Miller

  (1) Mr. Williams had a white curly-furred dog, Polly,  who followed him everywhere. For several years, I couldn't imagine him without her by his side.  One summer, she had a large wound on her flank that was the size of my outspread hand.  Polly had gotten caught under a snowmobile.  It took a couple years for that injury to pucker up and heal. For one full summer, it looked like well-charred bacon. (2) Two of Mr. Williams' grandchildren were Valerie and Debbie.  Debbie is my sister's age and Valerie was my age.  Each of those wonderful summers on the lake, Val and Debbie would stay with Mr. and Mrs. Williams in their cabin so we all could play together.  Sometimes, I would spend the night with Val at Mr and Mrs Williams' place.  One morning, Val and I woke to the smell of bacon.  I love bacon.  I ate my share, then he cooked up more. He cooked 2 pounds of bacon for me that morning, chuckling the whole time. My parents were embarr...

  My wife and I occasionally went to church at the Sunday Congregational service.  Huck's father attended, so one Sunday, I took a picture of him.  He was wearing a coat and tie accompanying his solemn expression.  He was still and serious looking.  I told him to smile, and I took a second picture.  The smile is so faint that you had to look hard to see it.  Those were the pictures that Huck had on his refrigerator at home.  (These pictures were recently sent to Sean Minear -- he has them in slide form.)  Richard A. Miller

  4:00 am and the sky is turning light blue.  Vireos sing wildly, but it's too early for me yet.  I contemplate getting up and adventuring up Bald before breakfast, but my bed is too warm.   A little later than usual, I decide it's time.  It's still still.  The sun's rays are low and golden, I jump up, ready, noting that my back is not sore this morning; it's a good day. Less than 8 minutes later, My feet feel the sand and rocks; my orange buoy bumps against the backs of my legs like a tail.  I look right towards the Gap in the mountains and can see the cigarette buoy of Bowley Rock beyond Bragg's Point (which I call Stinneford Point because that's what Christa called it when she babysat me years ago); I look left and see the cigarette buoy of Elephant Skin Rock by Pine Point. It's Sunday, too early for the campers to be up so it's a day for Elephant Skin Rock and DeeDee beyond it.  The mountains and pines are mirrored in the lake's surface, ...

  During our early spring biweekly hike into the Albuquerque foothills, Susan asks me, "What do you do while you're in Weld?"  I don't know. I can't seem to remember or identify what I do.  So July 15, I decided to record the day's events. The alarm in the morning is the sunlight and the glow on the trees across the lake, which I can see from my bed.  The light begins at about 4:00 am; I wait until 6:30 to begin to get ready to swim. Paul and I are in the lake at 7 am and swim to the rocks in the center of the lake to look for Missed-ery rock or even the pod rocks; we return by 8:30.  We are chilled but there's enough hot water in the heater for both of us.  I make coffee and my dad's breakfast, and suddenly it's 9:30. Paul starts work.  He'll be home and will make sure my dad's ok and has lunch.  I sweep because there's always pine needles and sand on the floor.  I decide that today is the day to get the paint so I can paint the stairs...