17 Mile House Historic Park

Tess Johnson - 12 October 2024

I realize I’m doing this practicum adventure much later than my previous excursions, in the evening rather than early afternoon. Right now, I am awkwardly sitting in my car, in the shockingly occupied dirt lot, gazing at the last moments of today’s sunset. Is there an event taking place here? The site, though clearly visible from Parker Road, lacked signage and a turn lane, making me a little stressed that I would miss the turn or get rear-ended. As more people walk past, I think it is more likely that there are some photoshoots happening on site. A fenced area houses a windmill, barn, house, and a handful of other structures, either restored or maintained since their construction in the 1850’s. This site in particular was an essential stop along the Smoky Hill Trail, providing food and rest to people making their way to Denver. Pit toilets are placed next to what appears to be a trail, which I will soon venture onto. Open fields stretch beyond the property, until they reach the road or the tree line. I can hear the steady roar of traffic, and the occasional plane overhead. As I prepare myself to discover something new, a few questions come to mind:

• Is restoring or recreating historic sites impact their authenticity?

• Why should the community care about this place? Why should I care about this place?

• What is the dialogue between aesthetic and history?

• How might I use or need the skills from the Wilderness First Responder course?

As I begin to wander behind the historic house, along the dirt path, I begin to think that this may be my favorite site that I have visited as part of my practicum. The sunset paints the western sky with oranges and pinks, and the weather is perfect at 65 degrees for a walk. A large sign states the name and purpose of the historic site, “17 Mile House.” The sign mentions the women that owned and operated the house, and how it was an important milestone for people moving west to mine for gold. A small respite for those that put everything they had into a possible future. I walked about 2 miles, wandering along the path to where it met with the Cherry Creek Trail, and then back to the house to explore the buildings. Some distance away from the house, I found a bee-keeping site, with large warning signs not to disturb the hives. It was clearly consistently monitored and maintained, and I wonder who it belongs to if not the local county. As I wandered around the buildings, reading signs that described the livestock that lived in the barn and the uses if windmills, the sky rapidly darkened. Soon, I was the last car in the parking lot. I got some cool pictures out of it, though.

The area was flat and easy to explore, even if it was bordered by a busy road. The buildings, though historic in nature, were restored for both safety and aesthetic. This experience felt more connected with the history of the location, both with the educational signage and the buildings themselves. Additionally, there were fewer people there solely for the purpose of recreation. The other visitors were looking at the educational signage or taking photos. The photoshoots were very interesting to me. Of course, the lighting, weather, and backdrop were beautiful, and I am sure will produce wonderful photos. However, the significance of the place is not conveyed or impactful to those photos at all. What is the relationship between modern aesthetic and recognizing the history of a place? Should there be a relationship? I suppose appreciating a place for its functional beauty is still appreciation.

When I encountered the bee hives, I had a moment of concern where I thought I would perhaps need to implement my wilderness medicine skills. However, no bees ventured out of their hives while I was there. I simply followed the instructions on the many, very bright, signs warning to stay a safe distance away from the site.

After experiencing this site, I had a greater appreciation for the historical narrative of the Smoky Hill Trail, and how it shaped the trails and roads around Denver today. The educational material placed such an emphasis on the people that owned and maintained the property, and how they in turn supported the travelers passing through the area, that I could almost envision wagon trains passing through. This led me to consider that restoring a place like this could grant it some of its authenticity, at least from a particular moment in time. Not maintaining or restoring it would be authentic, at least to the 21st century version of this place, but the decision of local authorities to preserve this place as a historic site reflects a component of the authenticity of the local community. Some part of the community of Aurora, perhaps very small, values the ability to visit and experience historically significant places.

I initially judged the people doing senior photoshoots when I arrived, and then I promptly started trying to get pretty photos of the house and the sunset. I initially thought the prioritization of aesthetic in a place like this was shallow, but history allowed for a place like this to exist. Clearly, having a visually appealing site is important to the surrounding community, though perhaps for different reasons. Where else does the importance of aesthetic drive history and culture? Are there parts of the Smoky Hill Trail that make a detour or turn simply because of the view, or is it shaped purely from reasons of practicality? Many of my hikes in the mountain are to see pretty views, but did that cross the minds of prospectors traveling to Denver in the 1850’s? I realize I am asking these questions, and not providing many answers.

Of all of the places I have visited for my practicum, 17 Mile House has been my favorites. Watching the sunset, walking past bee hives, and looking up at historic windmills was fun, and I think I learned something. I am now fascinated with the dialogue between beauty and history, and how sometimes humans make small choices from arbitrary things like aesthetics. As I plan more outings like this, I need to find more ways to find evidence of history on these trails, since I’m sure they won’t all be as obvious as 17 Mile House. Until next time!