|Blogs > mountainofun > Freedomofchoice|
When I first moved to Colorado in the fall of 1988 I ended up living in a cabin built in 1816. There were a few other cabins on the property, but mine was the oldest. It was originally built somewhere in the southeast. The logs were numbered, taken apart and eventually re-assembled outside of Leadville at Colorado Belle Ranch. AKA Cecilville.
If you went into town and told people you lived at Colorado Belle Ranch, despite the sign alongside the road, no one knew where you were talking about. But tell 'em you lived at Cecilville and everyone knew exactly where you lived.
Cecil was an old miner. Well, maybe he wasn't old but the altitude and the hard years had taken their toll on him. We lived at 10,400 feet above sea level. At the time Leadville was the highest incorporated town in the US. And Cecil, he lived in a cabin at the back of the property where the mountains began and he could look out over some of his 600 acres.
One of his most prominant characteristics, Cecil was missing all of his fingers on his right hand except for his thumb. When winter set in and the driveway needed plowin, Cecil would crank up the old Cat D-10 and head up the invisible driveway carving out a new road in the snow. Minus 4 fingers with only the right sleeve of his flannel buttoned.
There was a prosthetic that took the place of the altered hand and it wasn't a hook like the one he wears now. The other denizens of the cabins as well as myself called it The Spoon. It was a prosthesis that covered the remaining stump where the fingers had been with a spoon like object sticking out of it that he could trap objects against with his thumb. I always imagined him taking out someone's eye.
As for the missing fingers, Cecil said he lost them when a mine car rolled over his hand. I always thought that he blew it off with the dynamite he was so fond of blasting in his mines with but I decided to believe him. Why not. Things got so wierd around there that it wasn't too surprising.