Christopher Creek and how we found it is the theme for this week. Let us begin with some of the early stories — this one from Lisa James:

“In 1978, my husband John, I and my parents, Ray and Kaye Hoy purchased the old Landmark. After selling the Landmark, my husband became the resident deputy sheriff. We moved away in 1984.”

Mary Beth Marx has a cabin on the creek near the west of Ashby-Apple and her story is: “My mom looked to get out of the heat. So she would come up and stay at the Lazy D in Star Valley where they had a pond we could fish when we were little. Then they had a friend who’s parents (had a) cabin at Christopher Creek and they bought it back in 1957 and we have loved it ever since. Been roaming the creek and mountains since then, with our kids and now their kids are starting. We love it!”

One of the Lucas girls, Elizabeth White, tells us, “My folks used to take us to Mountain Meadows cabins when I was very young, they bought their place in the creek in ’66. My 8th birthday present! We lived up there during the summers for many years. I worked at the M&M market (first job) for Shirley Broadston in ’77, at Creekside for John and Olive in ’78 and ’79. Then lived up there full time for four years working at APS in town. Best memories, first fish, singing with Jinx Pyle at the Christopher Creek Store and Bar, western dancing with my dad and brothers every Friday and Saturday night. Loved every second.”

This one is from Mary Ellen Blair: “I was 15 the first time I came to Christopher Creek. One of my close friends is Olive’s granddaughter Sarah. It was Thanksgiving (1992?) and her whole family was together at the restaurant. We ate, sang karaoke in the bar, and then headed over to Doll Baby Ranch for two amazing days of riding horses. I love Christopher Creek.”

Here is the Creek story from the barefoot entertainer, Dennis Louchart: “In 1978 we moved to Arizona from Michigan. That year my brother Paul who already lived in Arizona suggested I talk to John and Olive Matus about playing music at Creekside. He hired me and the rest, as they say, is history. Over the next 20 plus years, I played several months per year at Creekside. I first played there with my brother Ray, then many years as a solo, and eventually, my son (Jason) joined me on drums. It was absolutely the most fun gig I ever had in my over 50 years of performing all over the United States. I fell in love with Christopher Creek and I hiked, camped and fished there regularly. Loved every minute. So many great people and special memories.”

Hunter Creek resident, Lori McBurnett, relates, “The first time I came up here was in 1978. I was 12 and in a bus full of junior highers headed to Mountain Meadows Bible Camp. It took me about 30 seconds to get off the bus and decide that this was about the most beautiful place I’d ever been. Love at first sight. Came many more times over the years to camp at Mountain Meadows including a college-age retreat in 1982 where I met my future husband. As I grew older, I served as a counselor for other children and my own coming up to camp. Finally, in 2017, my husband and I were able to purchase a cabin in Hunter Creek Ranch. Love it here ever so much.”

Two stories were short and sweet. They came from a pair of fellas who were much younger at the time and each had a similar motive. First is Doug Knudson who says, “You know, I was building a road up through the mountains and I met a girl ...” Then from Dave Elston, “I found Rosemary, she found me, and it sure doesn’t seem possible it all began 49 years ago!”

We will share some more recent How We Found the Creek stories next week.

One young man found the Creek the hard way when he crashed his plane into the side of the Rim up in See Canyon back in 1951. He survived and went on to have a family and a full life back in Ohio. We recently learned that Delbert Worcester passed away at the age of 89. Happy trails, Dee.

The highlight of my week was an informal gathering last Friday evening in front of one of the local restaurants. Eight or 10 folks were expected to show up in golf carts with their refreshment of choice. We are hesitant to say how many attended, but it was bigger than a breadbox ... and that’s another week in the Creek.

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