It was always dream of mine to own property, not a house in the suburbs but a piece of raw land mostly untouched by civilization. I had always told myself and my daughters that I would be buried on my property as that was my ultimate life goal coming from a not so well-off background. Dreams tend to be put on the backburner though as the reality of life sets in. I had my first child at a young age joined the military and saw the world. It was after serving for 9 years that I finally felt ready to move onto the next chapter of my life. It seems though that my wife had a similar idea, though her next chapter did not include me.
It was right before this that I had the opportunity and felt financially stable enough to buy property. I have been enamored by mountains living in Colorado and I found a beautiful flat piece of land with views of the Sangre Cristo Range as well as the landmark Spanish Peaks. I stood there on the day of purchase holding my youngest daughters hand imagining life out there as the sun began to touch the mountain peaks. What I did not know is that this would be the first and only time we would ever be here as a family again.
In the divorce my wife returned with my children to Texas even though my children asked the stay with me the courts had their decision. Depression sank in, the stress of transitioning to civilian life and loss of my children sent me spiraling. It was after a long-time friend finding me at home passed out from obsessive drinking with a loaded gun in my hand that I tried to get help. While many may tout the use of therapy, I feel that it did not help me much maybe I just didn’t try hard enough. It was then I decided that I should go visit my property to getaway from the emptiness of my home and memories of a life once lived.
Packing up my bags I brought only some snacks and water, but of course a bottle of whiskey to ease the sorrow. The drive down I-25 was uneventful especially if you have ever driven between the Springs and Pueblo. Once you get south of Pueblo the views turn to plains on your left and rolling hills with mountains on your right. Feeling this joy reminded me of the family drives that we use to take laughing along the way.
As I took my exit, I pulled into a small gas station to grab some ice. The station seemed closed and almost abandoned except for the lights at the fuel pumps. Deciding not to waste anymore time I hopped in my car and continued down the road until I reached my county road and property. The property sat 10 miles from the neared paved road and the nearest neighbor was 2 miles away but from the look of the RV might have been abandoned. The property backs up to BLM land which was a major selling point as it ensures that the property is remote.
By the time I got my tent set up and fire ring ready the sun was just touching the mountain tops plenty of light to explore the property properly. I had not been here since the divorce, and it is a shame as the property has an arroyo or ravine running through it with interesting rock formations. Exploring the ravine was like stepping back in time, old ponderosa pines lined the edges with evidence of mountain lion skat and mule deer abound. As I climbed back up the edge of the arroyo, I gazed at the shadow of the mountain bold and black taking it how small I am in this world. found myself looking at a strangely bent pine tree that looked like it had been there for generations.
It was then that I looked in the direction of my tent and saw a flicker of light, staring at it I realized it was a flame like that of a campfire. I ran in the direction of my camp thinking that I somehow might have started a grassfire, the sandy soil fighting my every step. As I got closer to the site it was then I realized that the fire was inside my camping fire ring slowing down considering this I came to a walk. Who had started the fire?
Feeling on edge I stood about 10 yards from my camp but some of the view was obscured by my car. Slowly walking around my vehicle, I caught the site of an older man sitting on a log his grey hair seemed wild but maintained, he wore a buttoned up white shirt with dirty brown overalls and black work boots. The old man looks in my direction and smiles, “Oh hey there neighbor!” taking off his dirty brown bowler hat. Great I thought the local meth heads have found me.
“He…Hey”, I replied. Puttin his hat back on his head he gestured me to sit. “Hey man I don’t know what you are doing here but this is my property.” I said as he cut me off. “Forgive my intrusion son, I guess I’m just use to the openness of this community.” He smiles. I glance around at the open prairie and surrounding mountains looking for signs of inhabitants.
He catches my glance, “believe it or not there are quite a few of us out here, though many of us tend to keep to ourselves”. I make a slight nervous laugh “yeah I get that”.
“Let me introduce myself, I am Earyl Jenkins”, he tips his hat. His voice reminding me of Sam Elliot from the movie tombstone deep and somber.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Jake”, I reply as I take a seat across the fire from him.
“Now I hope you don’t mind but I was riding and saw your vehicle and decided to check in on you.” Earyl says as he puts in a dip of tobacco, he pulls from a leather pouch.
“You know its not uncommon to find people out here doing nefarious dealings and well some come out to this remote area to take in that last sunset.”
I reply anxiously, “you don’t say.”
“Yep, it seems people are drawn to the beauty or maybe it’s the call of the mountains to come home.” He looks over his shoulder.
“I live just over yonder there.” Gesturing to open prairie. “Been raising cattle all my life.”, he spits on the ground.
“Oh that’s interesting”, I reply.
“I am former Army”, I lean back becoming relaxed at the situation but still holding my guard.
“Well hot dam we got us a Cav boy huh?”, he slaps his knee.
“Oh no I worked on birds, mainly chinooks.” I replied.
Earyl glares at me, “you mean you worked with them…”. His statement interrupted by a horse neighing nearby.
Earyl stands up looking past me, “well I’ll be damned, I haven’t seen that man in ages”.
Turning around expecting to see someone coming from behind to attack me. I instead find myself looking at the silhouette of a tall man with one hand up waving at us. As he enters the light of the fire his long black hair seems to absorb all light, his tan, brown skin shows signs of long days in the sun.
Gesturing at the seat, “May I?”. Earyl nods his head without looking at me.
“Jake, this is Douglas.” Earyl says.
Douglas nods his head in agreement.
“You see Jake Douglas’s family has been on this land sheesh longer than I care to remember. He is Ute you see.”, he stares at Douglas.
“Wow that’s interesting” I reply leaning forward. “But who’s horse was that?”.
“Oh, that was Missy, my lady”, Earyl replies. “A damn fine horse but temperamental”
I begin to wonder how many people live out here, I believed that the property had few people surrounding it. “So, Douglas, what do you do out here?”, I inquire.
Earyl interrupts mockingly. “Him? What do all Indians do out here?”
Douglas glares then smiles at Earyl, “don’t mind him, he is stuck in the past and upset that is Missy likes me more.”
Earyl stands up, “now listen here don’t you bring my Missy into this.”
I stand to await the argument about to unfold.
“Sit down old man before you lose your head, or scalp.”, Douglas snickers. Earyl sits and laughs a deep bellow.
“Under any other circumstances Douglas and I would be enemies, but he is one of the good ones Jake.”, Earyl laughs.
I try to grab ahold of the conversation with small talk, but it leads nowhere. That is until I pull out a bottle of whiskey. I can see Earyl eye it with desire. “Would you care for some?”, I ask. Earyl licks his lips, “it’s been years since I’ve had a drink.”
Douglas stands and interrupts, “Earyl do you hear her?”
Earyl snaps his gaze, “yea she’s out there”.
I look in the direction of their gaze. Then I hear it…it sounds like a woman wailing. It is gut wrenching the sound of mourning and pain. “What is that?”, I ask.
Earyl looks back at the fire, “ignore her she’s just lost”.
“Lost I mean shouldn’t we go look for her? She sounds like she needs help.”, I say sternly.
“No Jake, no one can help her.”, Douglas says looking into the darkness.
“I am confused. Does she do this often.”, I ask.
Douglas does not look away from the darkness. Earyl gestures at Douglas to sit down, “Jake this place is special it is kind of why we are so close as a community. You see the land here seems to call to people for good and for well other reasons. And once here it seems to keep its secrets.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”, I stammer.
“My boy just sits down and let’s talk of other things. If you ask too many questions of this place, you may not like the answers you get.”, he says coldly.
“Jake do you like ghost stories?”, Earyl asks.
Perplexed by this, I look at him. “Well let me tell you about that little lady out there you hear.” Earyl nods his head in the direction of the wailing.
I lean in intently….” Her name is panak tawaakat, she is a Ute like Douglas here.” Earyl says. “Now this is her story.”
Panak
When this land was young before the town of Walsenburg or Denver was even an idea the Utes roamed this area. Panak was married to a young man in the tribe who would provide for her. They were very much happy, and happiness is a rare commodity even in those days. One day the husband left on a hunt, but never returned. Weeks passed and winter came the woman mourned for her husband, through the winter not knowing that her husband was taken captive by a band of Comanches. Comanches in those days were not known for taking adult hostages as they are seen as a liability. Though the man impressed them with his bravery. It was while being held captive; he saw his chance to escape.
Wandering the grasslands of the southern plains slowly making his way north before passing out of exhaustion. It was at this moment in what he thought was his dying breath that he was saved by a passing Comanchero, Mexicans who traded with Comanches and other Indians. The group kept him sheltered over winter near what is today Ft. Garland in the San Luis Valley. That spring when the mountain passes were crossable, he made his way to the spring grazing lands of his people and wife. It is here that he saw no sign of his band. Moving south he found himself just in sight of the Spanish peaks what they called Wahatoya or breast of the earth. The Ute husband could see what looked like a familiar settlement and raced towards it. Upon arriving he found a desolate scene of burned domiciles and skeletons on the floor.
Putting two and two together evidence of Comanche arrows and the resistance the man dropped to his knees. You see the Comanche war party that caught the husband was returning from a raid. The raid just so happened to be on his village. He sat all night next to the burned remains of his village imagining the cries of the people and wondering the fate of his wife. His mind was shaken when he believes he heard the cry of a woman. Standing and peering into the darkness of the night he listens. An agonizing wailing calling from the darkness, he knows not to run foolishly into the darkness where enemies and evil spirits lay in wait.
But through his heartache he can hear her, its Panak its her calling to him but how? The cries continue till sunrise, only stopping with the first rays of light. Distraught the man moves on until he finds another band of Utes who recount the story of the fate of the village. It seems that the Comanche party came down hard on the village not sparing a single soul from their onslaught. Upon finding the ruins the neighboring band tried to bury the dead before word of another war party nearby caused them to leave.
A woman came up to the husband and spoke of burying a young woman matching the description of his wife planting a burial juniper tree for her, recounting it was near an arroyo and medicine tree (bent pine). The husband stayed with his new band for months before he mustered the courage to visit the area of his wife’s burial. While camping near the arroyo he heard that familiar call, you see it was nearing winter and a sudden snowstorm came early that year. The man tried to stay warm by his fire. All through the night he could hear the call of the woman and his mind made him believe it was his wife’s spirit looking for him. She could be calling him to her burial site no longer able to stand the wailing he wandered into the cold prairie where he was never heard of again. Many say this was his end dying in the elements unable to find his Panak.
Earyl leaned back and smiled, “but that’s just a story.”
Douglas leered at him, “it isn’t just a story it is true”.
Earyl scoffs at him, “So Douglas have you found that treasure you are looking for?”
“Treasure?” I ask.
Douglas looks at the ground, “it is not the kind of treasure you think.”
Earyl laughs, “Always speaking in riddles you people. What do you always call it in your tongue? Ppp..”
Douglas cuts him off, “gold in your tongue.”
I interject, “wait there is treasure out here?”
Earyl, “Yes well unlike our red friend here, mine is of the more physical in nature. Would you like to hear another tale?”
I nod anxiously.
Bloody Espinosas
A cattle rancher out here in the Spanish Peaks found himself in the find of a lifetime as well as quite the predicament. While a summer rainstorm rolled in, he had a few head of cattle cross an arroyo and run up a canyon seeking shelter. The rancher followed the cattle’s trail into the canyon, which was filling fast due to the storm, deciding to cut his losses he went further up the canyon walls to seek higher ground. It was here on a ledge 30 feet from the canyon floor that he found himself in quite the pickle. Waiting out the storm might be ideal long as the water does not raise to his level, or the unstable walls give into the torrent. Deciding that his only option was to wait at the mercy of nature the rancher creeped against the wall looking for any cover he could find.
It was then that he found a narrow space that could fit him sitting. So he waited out the storm, feeling a draft come from behind him. Using what little light, he had from his matches he could see that the space opened wider. Deciding that this could be a way down he collected some try brush from the mouth of the cave and some cloth to make a makeshift torch. Crawling deeper the space opened to a cavern peering down he could see the floor which was about 20 feet below him. He sat at the ledge wondering what monsters lay in wait when he says an old rope tied to a boulder leading down the wall. Sense of adventure kicking in and thinking he may have found an old Spanish mine, the rancher gathered more kindling and wood to make a better light source. Peering down holding the rope the rancher decided to go further as he had nothing but time.
Ascending down the wall the ropes age shows as it groans but holds. As the rancher reaches the bottom it is apparent that this was an abandoned mine. Old barrels, rope, and tools lay decaying on the ground. It was apparent that this was a good size work. Using the old rope to make torches the rancher explored the open space where he was startled by a skeleton. This skeleton had several arrows in it but had the chest plate of a Spanish conquistador.
Taken aback by the sight the rancher poked at the skeleton with his boot as it collapsed making a metallic thud echoing the chamber. Right behind the skeleton was a chest, the ranchers eyes widened with glee as his mind wandered what was in the chest. Reaching to open it he found large, poured bars of gold around 2-3lbs in weight a total of 13 of them. Not believing his luck the rancher quickly put together a sack and attempted to carry the bars up the wall with great effort.
Upon reaching the mouth of the cave seeing that the waters were subsiding he made his way down the canyon and back to camp. It was at camp while the cattle were grazing, that he pulled out his newfound wealth the gold gleaming in the firelight he dreamed of how he would spend it. It was then that two riders approached his camp. Giving a greeting the rancher covered up his gold as they asked if they could seek shelter by his fire. The rancher never one to turn away strangers in this wild country obliged them to rest.
“What news from town is there? Have they caught those two Espinosa boys yet?” the rancher asks as the men make their way to the fire. The two men tall Hispanic look at each other, “no sir they are still out there”.
The man guards his stash as the men take a seat. They talk by the fire about hostile raids, women, and drink. It is then that the rancher remembers that in his preoccupation with the gold forgot to introduce himself.
“It is quite rude of me I forgot to introduce myself. I am Earl and these are my family.” He gestures to the cattle.
The two men smile, “that is funny because this is my brother Vivian, and I am Felipe.”
The rancher perked up at the names, “listen boys, I don’t want no trouble.”
The two men stand up as the rancher kicks the embers from the fire at them, he grabs his bag of gold and attempts to take off into the night. The two Espinosa brothers shout at him mockingly and fire pistols in his direction.
The rancher runs in the direction of the arroyo his bag slowing him. It is then that he realizes that his bag is getting lighter clinching it as he runs, he comes to a dead stop at the edge of the arroyo which is filled with water. Gun shots getting closer as one strikes the bag clinging loudly against the metal, the rancher in panic stumbles and drops the bag into the waters of the arroyo. Seeing his dreams fall he is lost in the moment as the gold sinks to the bottom of the water. It is then that he feels the cold steel of a gun behind his head.
Earyl spits his dip out as Douglas stares into the fire. “Yep, this land is full of those stories, but again they are just stories, right?”
I Smile at the thought and realize I am enjoying the companionship that I haven’t felt in a while.
A loud wail comes from the distance as I realize that I have forgotten about the reason for our conversation. Douglas stands and yells, “I can’t take it!” as he runs into the darkness.
Earyl stammers, “Aww shit here we go, excuse me Jake I have to go wrangle our Redman”.
Taking off his hat seemingly to make his exit, he turns to run after Douglas and in the firelight, you could see a bloody hole in the back of his head as he disappears into the night.