– Kathy Hunter

– For The Observer

Ten years ago Marie Lund was very ill. A young wife and mother in Salem, she was homeschooling her children while her husband, Dennis, worked for the Capital Press.

At that time she recalls reading a wild West story by Rick Steber called "The Cure," telling of a young man diagnosed with tuberculosis who found a remote and beautiful mountain location and got well. "I prayed I would breathe the air he breathed, walk the path he walked and be healed the same way," she says.

It wasn’t until 2003, after Dennis had been transferred to the Chieftain in Enterprise, that Marie, who suffered from mold allergies, heard the story again. After they had backpacked to Aneroid Lake in the Wallowas, caretaker Harry Beckenhauer began to tell them about Charles Seiber a.k.a "Silvertip" who came to Aneroid around 1897 at the age of 16 and died in Enterprise his tombstone shows at 104. On hearing the tale, Marie thought, "I know that story! That’s the story!"

After 17 years, Harry "The Mountain Man" wanted to retire. Hours of agonizing discussion followed before Marie and Dennis decided to "just go for it" and take his place. After picking Harry’s brain and meeting the property owners in Portland, Dennis quit his job at the Chieftain, and now the 50 or so privately owned acres inside the Eagle Cap Wilderness are their responsibility all summer.

"We are fire and vandal guards," Dennis says, "and camp hosts."

Phyllis Webb, Janie Tippett and I can testify to their qualifications after completing the 6-mile trail with a 3,000-foot gain in elevation. When we arrived for two nights we were met by Dennis, who helped unpack, directed us to a great cabin and offered a flush toilet, hot showers and feather pillows. With the attention of Dennis and Marie the place is spotless.

"A major duty is taking the cabins back from the mice," says Dennis. "Almost anything you leave here, the moths and mice’ll get it."

Packing up the mountain we were a strange parade: Janie with her Arab Morningstar, me with my donkey Fancy and Phyllis with her miniature burro Roxie. Whenever I pull myself up the steep incline on the first part of the East Fork Wallowa River Trail I recall that Harry Beckenhauer spent years running up and down this trail, sometimes with a heavy pack.

The nine cabins at Aneroid are named for fancy hotels: The Hilton, The Ramadan, The Sheraton. The girls and I stayed in Silvertip Lodge, the cabin that once did double duty as a home and store operated by Charles Seiber.

Stories passed down tell how Silvertip first filed a mining claim, then built cabins and a boat dock so he could rent boats and cabins. The nickname "Silvertip" was bestowed as he aged and his beard grew a white patch.

The current owner purchased the site in the 1970s. Harry Beckenhauer, the story goes, became caretaker when he arrived at Aneroid with a friend who said he would "be right back" and then didn’t come back. While Harry waited he survived for six weeks living off the land on miner’s lettuce, wild onions and fish he caught without gear. To keep occupied he fixed up some of the cabins.

One day when a stranger came in with pack animals Harry went to tell him he knew the owner didn’t want horses eating the wildflowers, and the man said, "I’m the owner." Impressed with the work Harry had done, he asked Harry to be caretaker.

The cabins are offered first to the owner’s employees and their families. Dennis is encouraged to share what is unoccupied with needy travelers like Phyllis, Janie and I. With our animals in the corral (Dennis gave them hay) and our feet up, we were free to relax for a full day while looking at the rugged and colorful rock formations that surrounded us, and to ? think about food.

"I have this whole pile of S’more stuff," said Dennis. "If I bring some down, you think you could make it go away? I’ll get you some marshmallow sticks."

I tell Dennis we didn’t expect such service, and he says, "If you feel spoiled, it’s mission accomplished."

I ask, Will he put on buckskins and a coonskin cap and sing us funny songs by the bonfire, like Harry did?

No, he says, he doesn’t do that.

Dennis is writing a book about the decision to leave a lucrative but stressful job and the adventures he’s had. In 2006 while he was general manager at the Chieftain he wrote a story about a trip to Aneroid, saying he knew he would be back "because special places like this are just too hard to stay away from." And he still feels this way.

For Marie, the change feels predestined.

"It was a surprising answer to prayer," she says "You forget you prayed for something. It was like we were being led here."