In April, 1880, he sold his business to a Mr. Fisher and after the business was settled he sent me to Denver to buy two 3-inch [axel] wagons, four mules and harnesses and said he would be down in a few days. When he arrived in Denver I had everything arranged. He paid for the outfit and hired another man by the name of John Fremont. He bought what provisions he thought he would need and left us to drive the wagons to Black Hawk.

Two days after our arrival there he loaded up what things he needed and we left for nowhere in particular, but he thought he would go to Arizona. We left about the 5th of June and made Birgen Park the first night and then, by easy stages, to Como, in south Park [sic], which was a coal mining town with 356 Chinese at work. Mr. Cowenhoven had about $1700.00 due him there. He knew the man in charge by the name of Thurman who could talk Chinese. He gave him 20% for collecting and he got all but about $200.00.

We were there five days and then pulled out for Leadville, via Fairplay, Alma and Mosquito pass [sic]. After arriving in Leadville we remained four days and then left for Twin Lakes for a few days’ stop-over on our way south. The third day we were at Twin Lakes I came into camp a little late and was cooking my supper when a man came along riding a horse and loading a packed mule. He spoke to me and I invited him to have something to eat, which he accepted. In conversation he wanted to know where we were going and I told him we might land in Arizona. He said we were foolish to go there as the Indians were on the war path and New Mexico was no better. He said, "Why don’t you go to the Roaring Fork country?" and he gave me a great description of the country. He had a pocket full of specimens of all kinds—gold, silver and lead. His name was Bill Blodgett.

I went over to where Mr. Cowenhoven was and brought him to see Blodgett. He made Mr. Cowenhoven believe it was the greatest place on earth and Mr. Cowenhoven asked him how we could get there. He said it was impossible to go via Independence pass with our wagons, but had heard a man say it was possible to get over an old government road from Buena Vista up Cottonwood and down into the Taylor Park country; that a man by the name of McFarlane and taken a water wheel and some provisions that way, but how he got over the pass by following up the Taylor river [sic] he did not know. He told me on the side, "you will never make it with the two men you have," as they came toward us to hear what Blodgett had to say.

The next morning we broke camp and left for Buena Vista. On arriving there we bought some more provisions from Wood Brothers. They said we probably could make it to Taylor river [sic], but the big excitement was in Ruby, and some other places I am unable to remember. They also said that Andy McFarlane, with five men, left for the Roaring Fork country ten days before. Andy was a cousin of mine and I thought he was in Central City.

We started early the next day and got to Cottonwood springs [sic] and remained there for the afternoon and night. The following day we made the top of the pass, but it was no child’s play. I met a man with a pair of horses and the running gear of a wagon. He asked me how the road was coming up and I said it was hell. "Well, you will find it hell and repeat going down, and lots of places with your load you will have to put in rocks so that you can get over the boulders," and we found he had not made it out half as bad as it was, but we finally made Taylor river [sic] that night.

Then the question arose as to whether to go to Ruby, or go as we had intended. I said so far as I was concerned I wanted to go where Blodgett told us we could make our fortunes and, after discussing it, that was the final decision. In another day we made the foot of the range and found a road camp of eight or ten men working on a road. They said we couldn't make the top with our wagons and we might as well camp, but, nothing daunted, we continued and in a day and a half made the top and then our troubles began.

We had to keep the tip of the ridge above timberline where we could see the tracks of McFarlane’s wagon, and at the head of the south fork of Castle Creek we took down an awfully steep strip, but the ground being soft we made it. Just at timberline the head wagon with Mr. Cowenhoven and his family drove into a bog and we had quite a time getting the mules out. We made camp and next morning took everything out and made the wagon as light as possible, but after working half a day we were just in the same fix as when we started.

I finally said, "I can get it out by using a Spanish windlass," and they never had heard of such a thing. We got the ropes up and we got them in shape, put a rope on the end of the tongue and put the mules to it and in an hour, with the help of price and the windlass, had the front wheels up on the sod. The mules then pulled the wagon out. The other wagon we took around the bog and after that I drove the lead wagon.

In the morning we loaded up and started again. In about a mile, or less, we came to a drop of abut 40 feet—practically a straight bluff. We unloaded the wagons, packed the stuff around and got it all down. We then lowered the wagons by ropes and got everything down in good shape. We continued for several days in much the same manner, unloading the wagons and lowering them when we came to impassible [sic] places. This made our progress very slow, in fact it took us two weeks to go 10 miles. Finally we came to a very sidling side hill, but by slow and careful driving we made slow progress and, at last, I saw tents and people in Ashcroft, but where we camped we were at least 1,000 feet above the valley. Next morning I went down to Ashcroft and hired two men and they came up with axes and a chain for rough looks. They cut down trees, that is, they cut down the trees at the roots and used them by attaching the tree to the axle and the roots dug into the soil. I drove and the two men, with ropes, kept the wagon from tipping over and we made the valley about 3 p.m. All the talk was about Ashcroft as they thought they had the greatest mines in Colorado, but we left for Aspen next morning and it took us all that day to make eight miles, which brought us within four miles of Aspen. In the morning we broke camp about 10 o'clock and at 2:30 p.m., in July 1880, we had our first view of the Roaring Fork Valley and, to me, it was the most wonderful sight I ever beheld.

We drove up to what they called Ute where there was a big spring and where most every one [sic] was camped. About 4 p.m. our old fiend [sic], Bill Blodgett, put in appearance and the next morning he sold Mr. Cowenhoven a lot for $75.00 on which a few days after he (Mr. Cowenhoven) commenced a log building for a store and also a building for a home.