Tracking the Past

Tracking the Past

Noel Laflin

4-8-15

One thing leads to another, you see.

The present quest all began when a boy spent a week at summer camp some fifty years ago.

The lad then devoted the next ten years of his life developing a mad love affair with the very land upon which he returned each summer.
 

The former youngster, now turned older man, presently finds himself pouring over both current-day Google satellite maps and fragile sixty-five-year-old U.S. Geological topography maps – all the while looking for clues from a simpler era.  And several hints, primarily in the tracing of old dirt roads, are still visible - even a century later.  But so many other features have been neatly paved over with the advent of asphalt and concrete.  The San Bernardino Mountains continue to guard their past - covering their tracks.

And so, he turns his attention to old photos of the mountain – those images that have survived both the ravages of time and benign neglect.  He isn’t so interested in the people captured by those early photographers, but rather the lay of the land, its ancient grinding stones, hidden natural springs, snow laden branches of giant Ponderosa pines,  faded trails, smoke-bellowing narrow gage trains, their tracks, and one long forgotten logging camp in particular.

Impressive black and white snippets of its past have been recently brought to his attention.  And although they are few in numbers, their mere discovery has been a great boost to his on-going curiosity.

Thus renewed in spirit, he reads exhaustively the countless histories, including speculations as to the type of life led by the ancient ones first inhabiting the mountain some two thousand years ago.  Notations, footnotes and references take him from site to site, blog to blog, small mountain community newsletter to newsletter, oral history to oral history, interview to interview, and book to book.

 

Looming large through much of the research is the impact of nineteenth century settlers and trailblazers in search of lumber - the discovery of gold and water and grizzlies - the creation of boomtowns, lakes and sawmills - and the eventual extinction of the very creature that once freely roamed the mountain but is now nothing more than a faded reminder emblazoned upon a flag.

 

Planned excursions to three different museums are on the horizon.  More books have been tracked down and ordered.  Local historians, much better versed in the land than he, have been sought out, their writings and musings devoured.

The former camper wishes there were folks still alive from this by-gone era.  But like the ancient ones, along with the grizzlies who once wandered the land, they have all passed from sight.

So, books, maps, old photos, museums, personal memories, and the insightful thoughts of fellow former boys-now-turned-men will have to suffice at present.

 

But you know, one thing does seem to lead to another.

Ultimately, it keeps leading him back to camp.

And he finds it to be a very pleasant pastime.