Of all the gulches mentioned in The News Tribune articles lately, I have yet to see my favorite, Bummer’s Gulch.
Perhaps it is because there is no one left my age who enjoyed it as a child back in the very early 1930s, or as kids maybe we were the only ones who knew it by that name. Supposedly, hobos camped in there somewhere, although we never saw one.
To us kids, it was a beautiful woodland filled with wildflowers we picked for our mothers or wild blackberries or strawberries we ate as we hiked.
I haven’t seen the changes …