Avalanches Can Roll in Late Autumn  

Though many would like to imagine winter, months away, it usually hits late October.  And as the snow surrounds Park County there are tales to give heed and warning to the adventurous souls who might think only Spring is a dangerous time for avalanches.   In January’s 1883 edition of the Flume the following story was certainly a surprise for the three miners involved. 

“The First Snow Avalanche on Big Evans   

            Away up the head of Big Evans gulch, on the side of Mosquito mountain, is the Elk mine.  There the mountain steep and rugged, its sides being scored by little gulches.   The winds come roaring up Big Evans and hurl snow against  the range in vast banks and drifts, and even early in the season deposits many feet deep forms there.  Last Friday B. F. Fulton, A. H. Wolf and E.W. Ogden were at work in the mine.  On the way to their cabin, at noon, they stopped at a blacksmith’s forge, which is established there to warm up a little.  After a brief halt they resumed their walk, and , heading for the cabin, started across a little gulch which lay in their path. 

            While still in the gultch the men heard a noise and looked up to ascertain the cause.  It was the avalanche coming.  The snow above them, heaped up in fantastically shaped masses, had evidently become loosened by the men  in walking along below and started in its threatening descent.  What a prospect! All but imprisoned in a narrow gulch, the snow all above huge masses were descending with constantly increasing speed and volume, certain death seemed to stare them in the face.   

            The instinct of self -preservation exerted itself and they tried to flee.  As well might one afloat the ocean try to escape the waves that threaten to o’erwhelm him.  In a few minutes the miners were caught by the avalanche, buried and rendered helpless.  Their struggles were as vain as those of a fly in a spider’s web. 

            Down, down the steep mountain rushed the avalanche, bearing its powerless human freight and attaching to itself tons and tons of snow at every rod.  The gulch which formed its channel narrowed and the great mass compressed itself and fairly squeezed between the rocky walls.  Then its path widened and the snow, spreading out in all directions, lost its velocity by degrees and finally came to a stop.  But what a fearful march it had!  Fully five hundred feet had it rushed  after seizing upon the unfortunate miners, and when its race was run, it had almost reached the flat in Big Evans.  And the men - where were they? 

            Of the three men Ogden escaped most easily.  Whether he escaped burial in the snow, or was really covered up and afterward came to the surface again, he cannot remember, so great was his excitement, but, at any rate, when his perilous conveyance halted and he realized that he was still in the land of the living, his first thought was of his companions.  A cry caught his ear, and hastening in the direction from which it came, he found Fulton.   The latter was firmly caught and Ogden was trying to extricate him, when he saw Wolf, inverted and kicking furiously.  Knowing that the man would speedily suffocate in that position, Ogden hastened to his aid and releasing him, returned to Fulton.  Having rescued him, the three once more set out for the cabin and reached it without further adventure. 

            Strange as it may seem, neither of the men was badly hurt.  Fulton’s injuries were the most severe.  His hands were badly frozen.  Mmr. McCannon, boss of the mine, did everything he could to alleviate the men’s sufferings and contributed greatly to their comfort.  Wolf was much bruised, but will recover in a few days.  Fulton was brought to this city, and after having remedies applied at Dr. Carrington’s office, was taken to the Columbia Hotel, on East Third Street.  A reporter called on him there last evening and found him in the office. 

            His hands were badly swollen, but not very painful.  He said that his sensations while being hustled along in the avalanche were quite indescribable, and expressed his thankfulness at escaping with his companions from a terrible death. - Leadville Herold.”