(There are many millions of stories about the outlaw trail. As with all Pass Patrol Campfire Tales, the facts of this one have been distorted.)
It began on a late July evening in the year of 1996. I was enjoying a quiet evening alone camped near the Ute Indian reservation in southern Colorado. The night was filled with the sounds of the forest. A nearby bubbling stream, the bawl of a cow calling her calf in the distance, and the howl of a Coyote trying to find the calf before the cow did. I was sitting near a campfire dreaming up another story for our next newsletter when I heard the familiar sound of drums
in the distance ... or was that thunder? Or could it be Caveman's Jeep. He's the only one who can find me when I'm trying to be alone. "Oh well," I thought. "He won't tell anyone where I am."
Caveman's Jeep topped the ridge followed by Magnolia in her Cherokee, Sunshine in her Bronco, Ramblin' Rose in her Rodeo, and Loco Weed riding shotgun for Ramblin Rose. "Oh well," I thought. "Let's party."
"No time to party," Caveman said as he stepped up to the fire. "Word just came in. The Wild Bunch knocked over the train in Tipton and hightailed it up the outlaw trail headed for Hole in the Wall!"
I've been tracking the outlaws for a long time. So long, my nickname has become, Outlaw. But the trail went cold. I had been waiting for the Wild Bunch to surface one more time so I could get a fresh start. "How long ago?" I asked.
"August 29th., 1900."
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