just at the opposite mouth of hell canyon stands a house built a bit past the turn of the century. being in the wild west as it stood, the occupants were fathered by a man who was probably paid very little but would rise from night in violent weather and run for the train tracks to wave down the train with a lantern and bright cloth for if the flash floods wiped out the tracks, the train would topple to the bottom of hell canyon. it was very quiet here, nothing but some old ticking and bedding, the filthy clothes of a hobo and an old meal ticket from the 50's that floated on by on a gust of air.