The backyard cabin playhouse at Sunset Ranch was wonderful. I can't remember when dad decided to build it, but I do remember that it was a birthday present for Ron.

The cabin was not large. Perhaps it was ten feet by twelve feet, and had a normal height ceiling and roof. The roof was covered with shingles. Two of the walls had small rectangular windows, four or six panes in each window. There was a potbelly stove in front of the window. It put out a lot of heat with only a small fire. There was a bunk bed along one wall.

We spent a great deal of time in the cabin. Our friends would come over and we would whittle balsa wood that we'd buy at the local hardware store in Eastgate. From time to time we'd light a small stub of balsa and pretend to smoke it. Of course the wood smoke was very potent, and any inadvertent inhalation would make us cough up a storm. We did try to see who could make the best smoke rings, though.

Often I could climb on to the roof of the cabin and survey the neighborhood. From there I could see all the way to Peter Edgar's house. I could also see the bottom end of the baseball field in the backyard of the Gebow's house.

Behind the cabin we had cages for animals. We had guinea pigs and rabbits. Every time we'd walk around back, the guinea pigs would whistle at us: "Peeeep, peeeep, peeeep!" I still remember seeing the white rabbit in its cage. It had pink eyes, and everyone told me that it was blind.

One summer, Ron and I decided to go tunneling under the cabin. We dug a trench down under the middle of the cabin and then made a right-hand turn, then another turn in the tunnel, and then dug a pit deep enough to stand in. When you stood in the pit it was pitch dark since it was around two twists in the tunnel. Of course we came out from the tunnel covered head to toe with dirt, but it was really exciting. We even dug out small pockets in the walls of the tunnel where we put candles. Upon entering, we'd light the candles along the way and they would cast a friendly glow.

In the bottom of the deep pit we put a board and buried its edges so that it was difficult to pull it up. One time we took some of the younger kids in the neighborhood and showed them the tunnels. We told them that this was just the start of a vast network of tunnels that went to a lot of different places in the neighborhood. Of course they didn't believe us at first, until they crawled in and came to the huge pit at the end. We explained that the board was the lid to the rest of the tunnel system, and that they were not allowed to go into that area (for safety reasons, of course). By that time, they were ready to believe anything, and they came out into the fresh air as born-again believers. They spread the word and we had the whole neighborhood wanting to crawl under the cabin. I don't think we ever did fill in the holes. I wonder if anyone ever found them?

Speaking of tunnels, one time we got ambitious and went next door to the vacant lot and dug a huge underground pit. We then got some old boards, put them over the top of the pit, and they covered them with a layer of dirt. We had a secret hatch door that could be opened to go inside. In the walls we dug out notches for setting candles. It was really quiet inside, and it smelled the good smell of earth. The only problem was that a great number of insects would fall into the pit and not be able to get out. The next time we went in, we had to share the room with spiders, centipedes and beetles.

After a while we lost interest in our pit. It wasn't until the lot was sold that our pit came to the attention of the builders. When they brought in a bulldozer, they didn't know that a huge pit was hidden under the thin layer of dirt. And the bulldozer driver proceeded to drive right into it and get stuck. We thought we were in deep trouble, but no one ever came over to ask who had dug the pit. Somehow they got the bulldozer out and filled in the pit.

In the summer, we had a slip-n-slide that we set up in the backyard. The yard was sloped downhill, so we'd set up the slide and then put plastic beyond the bottom of it. Then, with a running start, we could slide a good portion down the length of the yard.

Another summertime project was building villages in the woods. There were enough neighbor friends that we'd each decide to take on different occupations and have a village community in the woods. We'd each build huts from small trees and cover them with ferns and brush. We'd then build trails from hut to hut. We even went so far as to make a village currency so that we could pay each other for the work that we did.

One area of the woods was really pretty, covered with moss and ferns. We called that area "Sleepy Hollow." I suspect we had names for other areas too.

The best camps were the ones that were built in the branches of trees. We'd nail cut trees together to make some really fantastic camps. Some of the trails were cleared enough that we could ride our bikes on them. Some were even covered with cobblestones!

We'd finally get bored and would end up having wars. We'd pull up the numerous bracken ferns, using the long straight shafts as spears. We'd then attack each other, throwing the spears at each other. Sometimes the mock wars would escalate into out-and-out fights, ending in rock-throwing wars or wrestling matches.

Of course we spent hours with our BB guns. Ron and I had a BB gun that we had to share. Dad told us that if we ever did anything that we knew was dangerous, that he'd take the gun away. So, for the most part, we were really careful. At first we just shot at targets, but that got boring. Next came the slugs. They were fun to shoot, especially when the guts exploded from their bodies. After a while, though, even that got boring. We needed a more difficult target. And what could be more difficult than a moving target-- like a bird? So we took aim at the local bird population. Fortunately we weren't very good marksmen, and very few birds were hit. But I'll never forget the time I took aim and hit what I thought was a common sparrow. I hit it in the wing and it fluttered all over on the ground. When I ran up to it, I realized I'd shot a Goldfinch, our State bird. I was devastated, since I had to put it out of its misery. Every time afterwards, I hated it when I got lucky and hit a bird. It never killed them outright. I always had to go up and shoot them pointblank through the head. I pitied them and felt bad about killing them.

One day I was shooting slugs in the back yard when I saw a bird in the willow tree up towards the house. I took aim and shot but missed the bird. I did, however, hear a small "clink" and my heart sunk into my knees. Upon investigating, I found that I'd shot a hole in the kitchen window. I hurried inside and went to my room to do something else. Then I heard my dad come in and see the hole and came swearing and yelling down the hall. He thought that Ron had done it and he was angry. The truth came out, and I suppose I got a spanking out of it. The gun was taken away for an entire year because of that unlucky shot.

In the fall we got interested in trapping. We went to the local hardware store, and they had all kinds of interesting trapping supplies. We bought the three and four inch spring traps and proceeded to set them out in the woods, trying to catch some of the wild mountain beavers. We were successful several times. We took the dead animals and skinned them and dried the skins.

At other times, we constructed figure-four traps, baited them, and set them out in the woods. I'm not sure what we thought we would catch. I think we were somewhat afraid that we'd get a skunk or something. Often we would return to the traps and find them sprung with nothing in them.

For several summers we held a neighborhood Olympics in the back yard. Somehow dad got cane poles. We used these as cross bars for our high jumps and for a springy pole for our pole vault. We built hurdles and made a course that we had to run through. We also made a long jump pit and had a metal weight to use for a shot put. I remember practicing for hours trying to get over six feet in the pole vault. The first time I did it I was elated! Ron always seemed to be a faster and a higher jumper. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he was a year and one-half older!

At times we got interested in fishing. We made our own fishing tackle, purchased from supplies ordered from the mail order "Herter's" catalog. We bought spinner blades, hackle, hooks, beads, bodies, and wire. Ron got really good at tying flies that looked really realistic. He was also good at making the hardware with pliers, a vise, and the purchased hardware. We sold some of the tackle to the local kids. Others we used ourselves. We'd walk about a mile to Phantom Lake. There was a private dock there that we were allowed to use. We'd catch some large Perch and Crappie. We even caught a catfish or two.

Of course we had the neighborhood football and baseball games. We played baseball in the Gebow's backyard, since it was large enough for players our size. The person in the outfield had to stand on the road, but there wasn't that much traffic. The only fear was if someone was to hit a ball over first base. If hit hard enough it could go through the kitchen window of the Gebow's house. No one ever hit one that hard.

Usually we didn't have enough people for a full baseball game. In that case, we played work up or fly up. It was fun, especially since I was one of the faster runners. Rarely did I get out if I hit a good ground ball.

Football was another story. There was enough difference in age that the game often got rough. Sure, we were only playing touch football or flag football, but there were always the arguments and accusations throughout the game. Several times the games ended in pushing, shoving or even fights.

We played other games as well. One favorite was badminton. I was pretty good, since I was fairly quick. We also played croquet. It was fun setting up the hoops and knocking the balls around. It was especially fun knocking an opponent's ball into no-man's land.