Thursday, August 2, 2012

Chapter 2 - Frontier Town And The Boreas River

The dogs and I were on our way up to the farm and had stopped at the old, abandoned Frontier Town for a rest stop which had already become the longest ever. We'd begun at the Boreas River, checked out an old horse barn and were now walking down the old lane, examining the insides of the buildings. I saw this enclosure and walked over to take a look. A young grouse flew up in alarm as we approached, bouncing off the wire and then fleeing into the forest. This was a zoo type enclosure with a small moat. I suppose Frontier Town must have exhibited some wildlife, perhaps bears, beavers or otters:

And then we continued down the lane, checking out the insides of buildings as we went:

I had to push my way through the brush to get inside some of the old cabins:

This one had some sort of drapery inside:

Drapery and artificial flowers. I decided that this had been a photographer's studio where tourists had their pictures taken in old western garb. I, of course, lined three of the dogs up on that stage with the bouquet of artificial flowers and shot several photos, but none of them turned out well enough to use. Besides, the dogs looked so forlorn, as if they were being punished for something by being forced to sit there on that stage. I gave them a happy call and we continued on our way:

Seamus was the happy leader of this exploratory venture. He and the Papillons are up for most any adventure, any time, any place:

We entered what appeared to be an old blacksmith's forge and I lifted Clover and Daphne up for a photo. It was a worthy idea, but the result looked rather ---- um, strange, as if the two were about to be roasted in a fireplace. So I lifted them back down and we resumed our adventure:

More cabins, more exploration. Many of the buildings appeared to have been stores which sold things, though I could not tell what:

When we arrived at the old log church, we had to plow through thick brush and over several large, fallen White Pines to get to it. Winky refused to join us, but Wally tried valiantly to keep up and I lifted him and carried him, letting him rest on a tree trunk before we continued on to the church:

The four younger dogs rushed in to the church as if anxious to begin Sunday services:

Let us pray, doggies:

When we left the old church, we had to circle around in another direction to reconnect with Winky who had refused to join our march through the thick brush. But he was happy in the sunshine and field of Wild Thyme. But our rest stop was not over yet! I'll post more tomorrow:

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