Heidi's House, Holiday Hill 1963
(Photo credit; Wrightwood Historical Museum files)
Heidi's House on Holiday Hill (present day Mountain High East) is long gone, but it still holds the memories of long time Wrightwood residents. It once sat on top of old Holiday Hill, a little drafty log cabin with a side corral that appeared worn...and smelling sorta like goat. It may not sound appealing to the average reader...but through the middle 1950's and into the '60's, Heidi's House attracted many visitors. Heidi's House was built by ski instructor Hannes Schmidt during the early days of the Holiday Hill Ski area in 1953. Because of a poor snow year and rainy season, Mr. Schmidt took the initiative to build the small cabin of native wood to bring the tourists in. He let owner John "Poppa" Steinmann know of his idea, and then the hammer began to fall as his vision began to take shape. The small cabin was Swiss style, fashioned after the one in the classic story "Heidi" in Switzerland. While the ski instructor built the dream, reality showed up in the form of Heinz Steinmann, one of "Poppa's" sons. "Did the Forest Service know of its construction?" no doubt was his first question.
Heidi's House was not only taking shape, it was also gaining her identity. Her name was carved in a sign and mounted on a post in front of the front entrance, and surrounded by heavy timbered mountain slope, it looked like home. Like the classic tale of Heidi, where an orphaned girl was raised by her reluctant grandfather in the Switzerland hills, Holiday Hill had its own Heidi for Heidi's House. Dressed like a Swiss miss, Candi Kane, the daughter of Wrightwood resident Bill Kane, played the role of Heidi. Like Heidi's home in the story, Heidi's House on Holiday Hill held the same magic. In classic Heidi, Heidi managed to penetrate grandfather's harsh exterior and life became pleasant for the both of them. In modern day Holiday Hill, Mr. Heinz Steinmann must have been drawn to the cabin's charm, for he helped build portions of it as Han Gadient offered his welding expertise. Unlike the classic tale, where Heidi's best friend was young Peter of the goat herd, Holiday Hill's Heidi probably did not get along with the nine goats that were brought in to complete the environment of Heidi's House. Come to think of it, no one else seemed to get along with the troublesome goats, either. Especially Mr. Steinmann. "Smelly, disgusting and a lot of trouble!" is how Mr. Steinmann described the beasts.
As kids we visited Heidi's House once in awhile, at a time when it looked like it was ready to fall down. Most of the tracks around were goat, leading in and out of the log cabin and inside all over the dirt floor. Once in awhile a black and white head of a goat would poke around the corner of the opened doorway and peer at you with its mixed colored eyes. You weren't sure if the look was being neighborly or just setting you up for a mean head butt.
Most of the time the goats were gone, who knows where. Owners and operators of the Holiday Hill always had a problem with them roaming all over the hills, from Wright Mt. to Prairie Fork, through Fish Fork and even further south to Baldy Village! How they made it that far was anyone's guess, they just did. A phone call from Baldy Village saying, "Hey, are these goats yours?" made the employees head all the way there to fetch them home again. Most of the time it was Heinz Steinmann who had to labor through the rough back country to drive the goats back to Heidi House. He and great friend and employee, Gene Anderson.
After one special day of herding the goats back home to Heidi's House, he realized that Gene sure was taking his time making his way up the mountain from Fish Fork. A little worried, Mr. Steinmann decided to wait a spell for him. Time passed, when suddenly Gene Anderson came over the ridge, wearing only his underwear and his pants tied around his neck! Thinking that what his friend was doing was a little bit out of the ordinary, even for the back country, he asked him about it. It seems that Mr. Steinmann's buddy had many kids at home and he couldn't pass up the chance! Fish Fork was always thick with mature trout. Since necessity is the mother of invention, Gene took off his pants and filled the pant legs with several pounds of fresh fish!
The goats always roamed away from where they were supposed to be and soon it became a daily ritual to fetch them back. Home may be where the heart is to a human, but to a goat...home was anywhere that they wanted to go. There were times when they did not go far; once in a while their favorite place appeared to be the Steinmann house that used to sit at the base of Holiday Hill. Tearing down clothes from the family clothes line was one of their favorite pastimes. Before long the troublesome goats wore out their welcome. Some were allowed to be taken as pets, while others were carted off the hill. One ambitious goat even decided to join the local Big Horn Sheep herd. As for Heidi' House, it almost lasted over a decade. It was torn down in 1966 when a new ski lift was built on the top of Holiday Hill.
Wild Buggers
The Big Horn Sheep are no doubt at home in the back country. Traces of their passing can be seen by game trails, and the scars on young trees where the Big Horn rubbed their curved horns against them. Spots of bark peeled from trees and young seedling pulled from a growing forest show their travel and vegetation stripped of green showed their feeding spots. Awesome to watch, they are one species that reminds visitors of their territory that they are calling the shots. Years have gone by since waves of them could be seen traversing across the northern slopes of Baldy, or clambering up the rocking hillside above the Williamson Tunnels. The Big Horn's numbers have been reduced, but they are still around. And still calling the shots. Unrestrained by boundaries, they sometimes cross the ridge just south of Lone Pine Canyon and drop into Lone Pine Canyon itself. The old apple groves of the Clyde's Ranch were always so tempting, as was the very hot looking domestic ewes at Richard Johnson's Lone Pine Meadows. Over the past years, the Forest Service was always concerned about mixing domestic goats or sheep with the native California Big Horn Sheep. Unfortunately the native Big Horn rams didn't care too much for human restrictions. After all, the Big Horns called the shots. "Boy, howdy! said one ram to the others as they stood on the ridge overlooking the one hundred a fifty year ranch. "Ain't them little gals purty?!" What happened next probably made the rams happy, but it was devastating to Mr. Johnson's Lone Pine Meadows. Nearly all the sheep ewes got impregnated by the Big Horn Sheep rams. Because their birthing canal could not handle the size of the Big Horn's head, they all breached trying to deliver and had to be destroyed!
