January 8, 2026

A 1972 Pontiac LeMans sedan.
Anyone who lives on dirt roads knows about mud holes. The red clay in Pike gets especially slick when it turns to mud. Aunt Ingrid had a Brown 1972 Pontiac Lemans when she lived down Glory Hole Road in the late 1970s. That car had a bench seat in back, and it was not unusual for no less than 6 and up to 8 kids to pile in the back seat. Ingrid was a good driver, and somehow she managed to rarely get stuck. Probably the weight of all us kids helped, but I have memories of fishtailing it out of there all the way. There was an audible sigh of relief when we reached the pavement.
Out near the Ruby Mine, our road had two major mudholes. The one closest to our residence was near the “Y” at the top of the hill between our house (The Golden Bear Mine Bunkhouse) and the Mott Cabin. The “Y” was the turn-off to the City of Six and Triple Pocket Mines. The road has since been moved and modified, but at that time there was a triangle, and you could take the turn off to the Triple Pocket either to the left going uphill from our place, or a little further up the road, when coming from the other direction, there was another turn-off that joined with the first road to create a triangle in the center. The Forest Service eliminated many such duplicate roads sometime in the 1990s. A longer one at the top of Galloway Road was also erased.
Anyway, near the Triple Pocket turn-off, there was a flat area that stayed wet almost year-round thanks to a spring under the road. Dad’s truck usually made it through the muddy spot without any trouble, but the station wagon was another story. We had one of those 1970s station wagons with the fake wood sides. One summer day, Mom was driving out, and we got stuck in the mud hole. She was wearing flip flops, and when she stepped out of the driver’s side, one foot sank into the mud up to her ankle. When she pulled her foot out with a sucking sound, the flip-flop was gone. She and I couldn’t stop laughing! We searched and searched, but never did find that flip-flop. A relic for future archeologists.
To be continued.

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