Born about 1868, died April 25, 1942. We found Jim Moore's grave with his name and vitals carved into a small wooden headboard overlooking the compound with a picturesque view of the vast meadow and mountains in the distance. Imagine what it was like 100 years ago when 1800 prospectors rode through here on horseback on their way to the hills for gold. They stopped for food, hay for their horses, freshly made moonshine and other necessities. Six decades later the remnants of the trading post remained much like they were left. Legend says that taking anything from Jim Moore's place was bad luck. For me it's good enough to mill about the pot belly stoves, leather straps, horseshoes and fossilized road apples. I felt at peace here and didn't want to leave.
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