Skip

Skip is our neighbor and my friend Laura has heard many of Skip's escapades. If I was to make a list of things that I would miss about Granby, Skip would be at the top of the list.

This summer he almost burned down his son's house (who is, by the way, the County Judge). Skip decided to burn his ditches for irrigation. The wind came up, the fire took off and headed up to the road and his son's house. By this time the County, City and Forest Service firefighters were all there (the Forest Service rig got their truck stuck in one of the ditches Skip caught on fire, but that's a whole other story). Skip was fined since he didn't get a permit (Skip doesn't like permits - when he redid the roof on his house this summer, he refused to hire anyone who required permits.) he paid his bill and life goes on. We watched it all from our dining room.

People wonder why we didn't have a TV for so long...we had Skip, why did we need a TV? Then Mike, one week on a business trip in Denver, came home, rather sheepishly, with a flat screen TV which is mounted on the wall downstairs.

Last week when I was visiting with Skip and his wife Roselle, Skip told me he wanted to buy a skidster. A skidster is a small, cat-like contraption with a bucket or these big prong-things on it. We borrow one to move snow around. Skip decided he wanted one. But, as he told me, they were in the $20,000 range. He didn't want to pay that much for something he only planned on using for three or four years.
I said, "Why only three or four years?
"Well, I'm planning on retiring by then."
Skip is 84.

Skip was one of the county's first surveyors. He hates the people who run the county and the people who run the school district. He's my kind of guy.

Skip gave me permission to trespass on Legacy, which is a big second-home development that takes up thousands of acres. The original town of Granby is on it and it's an easy ride to it from our house. He also gave me permission to trespass through the gravel pit across the way from us so I could get to the elk reserve and he even gave me the combination to the locked gate. He said, "If anyone asks you, you tell them I said you could go through there." Last summer a guy outside of his multi-million dollar second home flagged me down on my horse while I was trespassing through Legacy. He asked if I lived there.
"Sure," I shrugged, deliberately vague.
"Legacy, do you live in Legacy," he said quite obnoxiously.
"No, but Skip said I could be here."
"I've never heard of Skip."
"Really, huh. Here's his number, you can call him," and I gave him my number off my cell.
The next time I rode through Legacy the guy waved at me, real friendly-like.
It's good to have Skip as a friend.

Night before last Skip's horses got out. They always get out. They always come over our house. I always feed them then call Skip. Sometimes I just take them home, but I was on my way out the door. So I called Roselle and told her their horses were at our house.She said she'd send Skip over as soon as she found him.

Later, when I got home, I saw Skip barreling through the snow in his jeep, heading straight for the creek, where, of course he got stuck. I yelled at Mike downstairs watching his TV, that he better get dressed and go help Skip.

Mike and Ian both went over (Ian loves Skip's - it always an adventure over there.) It took them about two hours and in that time they managed to also get a tractor stuck. In the meantime, I let Skip's horses out the gate and they walked home down the road-they know the way. Then I went back in the house and watched Skip and Mike and Ian and Ben (Skip's son) get two vehicles unstuck. You couldn't really tell what was happening, just lots of flickering lights and if you opened the window you could hear Skip cuss - Skip's cussing is like poetry, it really is.

The next day I saw that Skip had bought a skidster and plowed a road through his field to ours; I assume to make it easier to get his horses.

We're going to miss Skip.