Grub Gulch

Blue and cloud-covered, the sky

Reaches down low behind Buckeye Mountain.

Seeps into the folds 

And narrow steep-sided ravines. 

Once the water-course of a torrent

On an unnamed creek. 

The Ahwahnee Road, in plain view 

Of the Twin Sisters peaks, 

Crooks Mountain, and Windy Gap.

A path to salvation: to Grub Gulch.

The town on flat land.

The Thomas Hotel, Taylor’s Store,

Charlie Lyon’s Saloon, Mackies’, 

And the Morrison Boardinghouse.

Something happened to the gold, 

In intervening years

Following the influx of miners 

At the Gambetti Mine,

The Mammoth, Enterprise 

And the Josephine, above town.

Where headworks of the mines 

Spilled their spoils.

A bummer down-on-his-luck 

Could set out with a rusted pan.

Follow the gulch trail 

To the Fresno River,

West of Indian Hill—

And always find enough 

Coarse gold, 

Flakes or nuggets-- 

For a grubstake.

A ticket to better times, 

Better whiskey and some food. 

From there a worthless oaf

Could find passage out 

To Rootville, 

Ranchos De Los Californios,

Or Las Juntas, 

Sixty-miles west. 

Home to robbers, killers, 

Pikers, and deserters.

About the poet

Stephen Barile is an award-winning poet, and was a long-time member of the Fresno Poet’s Association. He attended Fresno City College, Fresno Pacific University, and California State University, Fresno.  His poems may be found in numerous publications, both print and on-line. He taught writing at Madera College, and CSU Fresno.