BH: Yeah it is. Are there any other people up there that you can remember stories about? Do you remember any stories about the Wellingtons, or. . . ?
Art: No. There was several that I kind of feel like I knew—but it was just from stories that my dad had told. There's one old guy—now where he lived, I don't know—but somewhere around that area. And he would walk to Mosca Pass to get his supplies, ah. . . walk to Mosca. He would stay overnight in Mosca, then load his backpack and head back to the Sand Dunes. And when he got tired, which back then—men were men. They weren't softies like they are today. Anyhow, he would dig out a trench in the sand, and break brush off, and build a fire in there, you know, and just keep it going repeatedly, or keep a good fire. The sand got real warm. Then he'd scrape out all the coals, you know, let the fire burn down. Kick out all the coals, and then he'd lay down in this trench, pull some of that warm sand up over him and go to sleep. He didn't need a bed.
BH: And he lived up in the. . . ?
Art: Somewhere. But a name—there's not a name with that. I just don't recall anything about a man—but I'm sure that it was mentioned too. But, you know, like I said there's a dozen old fellows that my dad used to tell stories about—to the point it kind of seems like I knew 'em—but there's no face there.
BH: Well, that's all right. Cause even just having the stories is good.