It’s a new year so here is an old story.
For most of the year, I live in a log house 8900 feet up in the Rocky Mountains, right on the edge of Routt National Forest. It’s in the unincorporated township of Clark, north Routt County, a county larger than the state of Rhode Island. It’s thirty miles north of Steamboat Springs, six miles from the Wyoming border.
It’s a beautiful place surrounded by forest, high peaks, and deep valleys, one of which allows me to look down for sixty-five miles.
It’s a beautiful place surrounded by forest, high peaks, and deep valleys, one of which allows me to look down for sixty-five miles.
It was in 1889 that Hannah Emily Clark opened a post office on her homestead. She named the post office CLARK, thereby giving the new town a name. Back then the post office served a population of seventy-five persons. These days — as far as I can tell — the rural township has a population of about five hundred and forty.
Winters can be very snowy (thirty-four feet last year) and cold, which is why locals have given the area the nickname, “The Clarktic Circle.” That’s why I spend the winter months in Denver. It’s not much fun to drive sixty miles on snowy roads to get food. As I write this it is seventeen degrees in Clark, fifty-five in Denver.
There is no postal delivery to my house. If I wish to mail a letter or pick one up, I must drive sixteen miles. These days the post office is in a building known as the Clark General Store. The store functions as the center of the town, and it’s there, more than anywhere, I meet my neighbors.
The small store has different departments. It has a tiny grocery store. A smaller liquor store — by state law with its’ own cash register. A deli — where you can have lunch. I can also pick up a copy of the local daily newspaper — the Steamboat Pilot — a free newspaper. Benches and tables are there so I can have coffee and meet up with friends.
The post office, which has a service counter, is mostly taken up by postal boxes. It’s all run by one person, and you do not just pick up or drop off your mail, you chat with the postmaster and exchange news with her or other folks there.
My favorite part of the store is the wall of books located in the post office area. Regularly stocked, and restocked, by Steamboat’s public library, these books — mostly new, and in fine condition — are offered free to the public. There you can find all kinds of books, mostly fiction, but also nonfiction. A couple of shelves of children’s books are there, too. I’ve been told that some fifty or, so books are taken each week, which suggests an elevated level of readership in Clark to go along with its altitude.
I’ve taken a few myself.
A few years back, friend and colleague Brian Floca, came to my Clark home to scout out the scene before doing illustrations for our book, Old Wolf. Without saying so, the tale is set about my land.
Part of the story takes place in that General Store. Thus, one of the illustrations Brian did is of the post office. In the illustration, he inserted the portrait of a man. The man he depicted was Richard Jackson, the late great editor, and the editor of that book, not that he ever was in Clark.
Looking out from the postal desk is Sophie Blackall, one of Brian’s studio mates, and two-time winner of the Caldecott award.
Sometimes the illustrations in books have their own tales to tell.
Which is to say, not all fiction is fiction.
written by Avi, published by Atheneum, 2015