Mesa Trail ch. 23
Draft 2

The very small outpost known as Element 79 quickly became known in and around the city of Boulder.  It would be some months later, after all of the red tape settled, that it became its own graphic symbol on the main Chautauqua map which most new hikers picked up at the Ranger Station at the Trailhead.  Hannah came to like the cartoon-like symbol of her little place up in the foothills.  It showed just about everything: there was one person inside the shack serving something steaming hot to a small crowd of people.  The people had a variety of things in their hands for the sake of barter or trade.  A quarter of an inch away from the outpost, they now printed a symbol of a mining car to indicate an active gold digging operation, although, as Hannah knew, this was a mistake because they had never dug a single rock.  The great rain had dislodged enough sediment above, coming down from Dinosaur Rock and the rest of the caves, that all they had to do was sluice the water.  As imagined, the prospect of finding food and gold at the outpost brought just about every kind of individual imaginable to the sight.  The rules were very simple.  Anybody could help work on the sight, but whatever they found on the operation, they would have to claim the gold with Hannah at the shack, and they would keep only their wages for the amount of time they were there.  The rest went to charities inside the city.  One boy wanted to know if he could use his dusting of gold to save the next door neighbor's cat, who had a tendency to lock himself out of the house night after night and meow into the wee hours. "Maybe we could install a little door for him to go in and out." Hannah assured him that was a nice thought, but he might have to ask the neighbors first.  Others wanted to raise money for a book truck; others to water Mrs. Roger's lawn – it was the only one on the block that was brown and dying and "she just needs a sprinkler."  Hannah talked about water conservation efforts in the city and that maybe the brown grass was on purpose.  In other words, Hannah became the mayor with a very open door policy; and oh yeah, by the way, she cooked all day and began to bring some of the school children from field trips in to show them skills in poaching eggs or cutting vegetables with plastic knives.

Inuna had taken two of our her closest trailworkers up into the hills to conduct simple digs in sights that might produce fossilized shale.  There was always the possibility of "finding the skull of a t-rex. They were here, believe me, they once roamed these very mountains." Children hustled up the hills and trails with small tools and buckets, assuming that Jurrassic Park was up there just waiting.  Kitie and Josh kept their posts at the sluice, somebody had to, and they both took great pride in being in charge of the top or the bottom and showing comers the proper techniques to screen and filter.  Teachers at the sight built curriculums and would every hour or two gather in groups and discuss geology and front range weather patterns.  Parents came at lunch hours and walked onto a scene in which every person was kept busy, willingly, and above and around it all usually the flittering beak of a sapsucker or the buzz of a meadow bee could be heard. Hannah's father might make the quarter mile walk to the sight with visiting professionals in climatology and trace out the process of the famous mountain inversions.  But, Hannah thought, what to do with Mr. Bunkledon?