These handmade snowshoes hang at the River Cabin.
Tacked to the right-hand one is a little explanatory note written by my grandpa.
Family history fascinates me. That these very snowshoes were worn by my great-great granduncle as he tramped through the snow to his gold mine in rural Idaho just after the turn of the previous century gives me almost a little shiver. The days gone by will never come again and were that uncle to live today, he'd probably use a snowmobile.