By Alkali Springs Correspondent
Since the hot times of this past summer and the extreme fire danger, we have been wanting to write about Bee Lucke's and C. L. Stuart's one forest fire that they started.
However, one thing has led to another and it is not until almost the end of the year that there is time for this monument to barbecuing.
Now mind you, gentle readers, Bee and C. L. seemed to get along just fine as long as they stayed in their natural environment. But like most of us, they wanted to appear modern and every once in awhile break out of their old-fashioned mold. After all, Bee did drink his Budweiser out of a tin can. How much modern could you get?
Cooking was important to both Bee and C. L. (By the way, for you who asked, the C. L. stood for Charles Leonard). And as long as they used the old Monarch cook stoves that each of their Clear Creek fishing shacks seemed to come equipped with, everything was fine.
However, in town Bee had gotten one of these new fangled barbecue grills where you put charcoal in, light it and cook on it.
Bee's brother, Al, told him about it, but warned him that he (Al) had used one inside the schoolhouse cabin on Clear Creek and darned near killed all of them while cooking their steaks.
So Bee practiced in town and got quite good at giving foods the feeling of being cooked over a campfire. Got that good campfire taste as well.
That prompted Bee to haul one of those grills out to the mountains and one Saturday they cooked up a storm for numerous fishing buddies who had dropped in for food, beer and poker.
All went well. Bee and C. L. basked in collective raves for all assembled there as the food cooked on the grill was just wonderful.
Now, the fire. First, let us say that had it not been for the essential neatness of both Bee and C. L., there would have been no fire.
It got to be Sunday night and the both cleaned up the camp and got everything back in its proper order. If there was anything both of those old timers hated, it was to come out to a dirty camp the next weekend.
In the midst of the cleaning, one of them (both had denied afterward) that it was he. Each accused the other, saw the burned out pieces of charcoal lying in their new grill. So the accepted thing to do in those pre-dumpster days, one of them took the grill over to the stream bank dump ground, and flung the charcoal remnants over the bank.
We don't have to tell you, gentle readers, the result. You know that charcoal sometimes does not go out for a long time. The result of the fire was that no one was killed. Three fire departments were there to put it out and only one barn burned down.
The grill was never seen again at any cabin and Bee and C. L. were most content to cook on the old Monarch stoves that seemed to be provided at each and every fishing shack they inhabited.
