One Man's Dream

Chapter 1

It was early April of 2001. Steve had left Ohio on April first and driven for five days. He hadn’t tried to kill himself even though the excitement was more than he could stand. He had learned patience over the years though, and was just trying to enjoy the trip and scenery.

Steve was fifty years old and everyone said that he was crazy for doing what he was, which was leaving Ohio and heading for the Rocky Mountains to live in a hidden Valley, supposedly no one knew the whereabouts. He was believing this more all the time, because he had been two days longer on back roads looking for landmarks and such as the old man had instructed him on very clearly. Every time he was ready to give up or at least was getting badly discouraged, he would see something that was clear as a bell as to what the old man was talking about.

This particular old man was ninety-three years old. He had lived up in the mountains for most of his life. His name was John Long, and he had come back to Ohio for family and health reasons. He said it was too much work to survive in the mountains at his age and just thought he"d like to be with his children and grandchildren for the rest of his life.

Steve and John had spent a lot of time together for the past year and had gotten very close. John was always telling him about life in the mountains and his valley, and Steve never tired of it.

One evening they were talking and Steve mentioned how he would love to see his valley. He said it was hard to grasp how anything could be as beautiful as John described. He told John he bet he missed the mountains something fierce but John just said his memories were enough. He said he didn"t have that much time left anyway and wanted to be with his family.

Steve told John how every fall, especially in the fall, the mountains always had a way of pulling on his thoughts. It seemed like they pulled on him stronger every year, but he was where he was and that"s the way things were.

Two or three weeks went by and one night they were talking when John said that he"d been thinking about things. He had made the offer that if he could live the rest of his life here, he’d take care of the place and as long as it didn"t cost him anything to live here, that he"d deed the place over to Steve. If things didn"t work out, just come home and they"d work things out later.

Steve thought he sure wasn"t out anything and he was more than financially able, so they wrote up agreements, and now here he was in upstate Wyoming, Rocky Mountains.

Well anyway, back roads had turned into cow paths and trees and rock walls, overhangs were covering the road, or cow path, almost like a tunnel.

You"d never be able to see the road from an airplane or helicopter, he didn"t think. The road was mostly flat rock, maybe fifteen feet wide at widest and eight feet at narrowest. It set between two hills that actually had trees and other vegetation growing on the sides, part of the time. The rest of the time, it had rock ledges that hung out over the road from one side or the other. It would be hard to make a road out of it from above, without knowing it was there and then you,d have to know what you were looking at.

The road finally ran out after about fifteen miles, made a hard right between two big boulders, ran across a little stream, under a big overhang and then into a deeper pocket which had partially been hidden with smaller rocks on the sides. Inside was maybe thirty feet deep and just as wide. Outside looked like a rockslide and nothing else.

Well, he had arrived. He had another half day"s hike and if everything went well he’d find his cabin. By now he knew it was very well hidden.

He looked around, found enough brush to hide the entrance, made it look natural as he could, walked back to his s u v, unpacking his food and supplies for the night, made a small campfire, fed his dog, made a supper of beans and franks and enjoyed a pot of coffee. Next he loaded his rifle and pistol before rolling up in his bedroll and relaxing.

The food was extra good for some reason and coffee had never tasted better.

John had said to never get to relaxed, but he couldn"t help it for now. There was a fresh bowl of water in the cave coming from a spring out of the rocks. it caught in an upper pocket about a foot deep and ran over into a pocket at ground level. The dog could drink there. He knew the dog would wake him if anything came around, so he fed more wood on the fire, rolled up tight in his blanket and went to sleep.