Steamboat Springs Story

My last post featured Steamboat Springs, CO. Here is another Steamboat story. Something for the family history effort, so may bore everyone else. You are warned!

High school years, small town, and ornery teenagers can yield good (or bad, your viewpoint) stories. Willing to bet not many high schoolers caused a flood.

A certain individual cheated my parents out of some serious money. Being of a vindictive nature,  from an early age, I set out to get some justice. His garbage can became the target.

My partner in crime had a Jeep his parents gave him to drive. Once a week, after wrestling practice,  we would cruise by the target’s house and pick up his garbage can by reaching out the passenger door and holding it against the Jeep. From there, it was a short trip to a bridge over a creek where the garbage can was dropped. Very quick, and very quiet, it was.

Came Spring, and the ice breaking up in the creek. The ice jammed under the bridge and started flooding the neighborhood. We drove by the bridge after school and watched the city workers fishing out garbage cans. Many, many cans.

My partner and I had one rare trait for our age group; keeping our mouths shut. Things like the bundle of cherry bombs in the furnace duct work causing years of dust to fill the school library. Then there was the avalanche on the 90 meter ski jump landing four days before a major event.  Who knew a home made sled, with two aboard,  landed harder than ski jumpers?