A Touch of the Old West: Snowshoe Thompson, the
Unstoppable Mailman on Skis
By
Will Hart
Nothing
could stop Snowshoe Thompson. No blizzard was
severe enough, no amount of cold frigid enough to
make him call it quits. He was the only man to
regularly carry the mail between the eastern flank
of the Sierra Nevada and the foothill mining
communities of California between 1856 and 1876,
the year of his death.
Until he
applied for the job, the mining towns had been cut
off from the rest of the world during the winter.
This was hard on men who had been separated from
their families for many months, even years. Urgent
messages, important business correspondence and
news, could not reach them until the snow-clogged
mountain passes thawed in late spring. By then it
was often too late.
John
Thompson was born in the town of Tinn, in Telemark
County, Norway in 1827. He immigrated to the
United States in 1837, and by 1852, at the age of
25, found himself seeking his fortune in the gold
fields of California. This way of life, however,
did not suit his temperament.
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John "Snowshoe" Thompson. Photo is
a simulation of a statue of Snowshoe
Thompson to be created and placed in
Mormon Station State Park, Genoa,
Nevada. Photo furnished by Mormon
Station State Park.
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He quickly
abandoned the miner's life and bought a ranch in
the Sacramento Valley. But he couldn't stop gazing
up at the mountains from his homestead in the
flatlands. Sierra magic had him under its spell.
He had to find a way to live up in the mountains
for which he yearned.
In January
of 1856, Thompson noticed an ad in the Sacramento
Union, which read: "People lost to the world.
Uncle Sam needs mail carrier."
Struck by a
bolt of inspiration, Thompson quickly grabbed an
ax and chopped down an oak. Before long, he had
carved a pair of skis, each weighing over 12
pounds. These primitive skis were cumbersome, but
he was strong and used to heavy physical exertion.
Next, he set out to prove to himself and the
doubting Thomases that they would work.
His first
test took place in Placerville, witnessed by a
group of puzzled, disbelieving miners. One warned,
"You'll wind up knocking your brains out against a
tree." Unfazed, he glided through the forest and
slid down the hill, becoming California's pioneer
skier.
Impressing
the miners was one thing; overcoming the
postmaster's skepticism would be something else.
He mapped out a proposed route from Genoa to
Placerville. Thompson knew it presented him with
every imaginable challenge. But he was tough and
had experience guiding in the mountains. He had
hiked to many of the mining camps. He knew his way
over the passes, and he knew of miner's cabins and
caves for shelter.
He was
confident he could make it, so he wasted no time
applying for the job.
His
enthusiasm and confidence were lost on his
prospective employer, who took one look at
Thompson's equipment and hook his head.
"Even men
with mule teams fail to make the trip over the
Sierra in the dead of winter." He paused to drive
in his final point. "We found some frozen to
death." But the postmaster had a problem. No one
else wanted the job. He had little choice but to
hire the grinning Thompson.
The new mail
carrier was quickly nicknamed Snowshoe. He
reckoned he had to cover 25 to 40 miles a day to
keep his delivery on schedule.
This meant
skiing through any weather and all conditions, day
and night, when the bitter cold kept the snow
firmer and easier to negotiate.
Because his
mail sack was so burdensome, he traveled with only
a few crackers, some bread and dried meat. For
water, he ate snow and drank from icy streams. His
timetable was so tight, he ate while
skiing.
The only
concession he made to the winter was a heavy
Mackinaw.
Blankets and
coats were simply too bulky. He depended, instead,
on his exertion to keep him warm.
When
exhaustion overcame him in the night, he would
hastily pitch camp, using a pine stump for a
stove. He would make a bed out of fir boughs,
plant his feet toward the fire, prop his head
against the mailbag and go to sleep with the stars
overhead and the lullaby of the wind in the
trees.
How did
Snowshoe find his way across a constantly
changing, snowy landscape? That's something of a
minor miracle. Landmarks were often obliterated by
the heavy winter weather, and he carried no maps
or compass. Nevertheless, at the end of his long
career, Thompson claimed, "I wass never lost. I
can't be lost."
Reprinted, with permission, from the Alpine
Enterprise Newspaper
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The Legend of Snowshoe Thompson
By Richard Hughey |
He was known
as "Snowshoe Thompson," though he used only a pair
of homemade skis.
His American
name was John A. Thompson, and he came to the
United States from Norway in 1827 as Jon Torstein
Rui. As an adult he was the picture of a Norse
Viking: 6 feet tall with a heavy, muscular build,
blue eyes, and with blond hair and beard.
In 1851
Thompson migrated to California and settled in
Hangtown (Placerville), mining in Coon Hollow and
at Kelsey's Diggings. As a miner he was
unsuccessful, so he took up
farming on a
ranch on Putah Creek in the Sacramento Valley. His
real vocation, however, seemed to be to carry the
mail.
Thompson got
the idea for mail delivery in 1855 from a notice
in the Sacramento Union that a mail carrier was
needed to pick up and deliver at Placerville and
Genoa (Mormon Station)
during the
winter months. Genoa was in Nevada about 90 miles
east of Placerville. The carrier would be required
to cross the Sierra Nevada mountains in winter.
The stage road between the two towns had not yet
been built, and the path of the wagon road across
Johnson's Cutoff was annually obliterated by the
winter snow. Delivery would be on foot and
navigation by instinct.
Not
surprisingly, no one applied for the job at first.
The original contract had been let to Maj. George
Chopenning in 1851, but he had given up the route
as too difficult and unprofitable. It had taken
him five weeks to run the mail over Johnson's
Cutoff to Salt Lake City -- in June and July --
and it had taken him 16 days to get across the
mountains.
Nevertheless,
Thompson was interested. With skis, the route in
winter would be far less daunting.
As a boy in
Norway, Thompson had been virtually raised on
skis, and he had adjusted to the polar climate. As
there were no skis in California at the time,
Thompson made his own from two 10-foot valley oak
staves cut 4 inches wide with bootstraps in the
center. He called them "snow shoes." He also cut a
10-foot pole to use for balance, direction, and
braking.
After
practicing on the hills outside of Placerville and
putting on an awesome exhibition of winter skiing
for the townsfolk, Thompson got the job as winter
mail carrier. In January 1856 Snowshoe Thompson
set off on his first winter mail run across the
Sierra Nevada.
Thompson
would generally follow the route laid out by Col.
John C. "Cockeye" Johnson -- when he could find
it. He would travel up the canyon of the South
Fork to its head, traverse Johnson's Pass across
the Sierra peaks, and ski down into the Tahoe Lake
Basin. He would ford the Upper Truckee River,
cross Luther Pass, traverse Hope Valley and plow
through the West Carson River canyon to
Genoa.
Thompson
carried a mail sack on his back that weighed
between 60 and 80 pounds. He carried no weapon
because it would add to the weight he had to
carry. He wore a jacket for warmth, and the little
food he would eat on the run was crammed into the
jacket's pockets.
He had
neither map nor compass, and he carried no
blanket. He would sleep in caves or tree-root
caverns on pine-needle beds and build a fire for
his feet. If a deserted cabin was found along the
way he would use it. He expected to be confronted
by bears and menaced by wolves. He would encounter
snow drifts of 30 to 50 feet, and if there was a
blizzard, he could be blinded by the snow. Trees
and cliffs posed particular dangers for travelers
on skis.
Placerville
gamblers gave odds that Thompson would not make it
back alive, but five days after he left he
returned from Genoa carrying the mail from "the
states." It was an awesome accomplishment, and
"Snowshoe" would do it again and again during the
winter months.
Snowshoe
also made private deliveries. He worked for
little, and sometimes nothing at all.
His
handshake was a contract. Even after the
Placerville-Genoa road was open for all-year
traffic, Thompson carried the mail when the road
was blocked by snow drifts.
During the
summers, Thompson drove stages and delivered mail
and supplies to remote mining camps. He also
worked as a millwright. In 1869 the completion of
the transcontinental railroad put him out of the
mail delivery business, but he continued to carry
packages and express for private parties.
Thompson's
arduous life took its toll. He died in 1876 of
liver disease. Two years before he had traveled to
Washington, D.C., to petition Congress for a
pension of $6,000 to compensate for all the unpaid
services he had delivered for the government's
benefit.
Representatives
listened graciously to his lobbying and made
promises. It is not clear that the promises were
kept, however, although local historian Paolo
Sioli wrote that a pension to Thompson was awarded
by Congress at the 1872-1873 congressional
session.
Snowshoe
Thompson was buried in Genoa where a pioneer
museum is kept for him and Hank Monk. In his
biography of Thompson, Dan de Quills wrote: "He
was the father of all the race of snow-shoers in
the Sierra Nevada Mountains; and in those
mountains he was the pioneer of the pack train,
the stage coach, and the locomotive. On the
Pacific Coast his equal in his peculiar line will
probably never be seen again -- it would be hard
to find another man combining his courage,
physique and powers of endurance -- a man with
such thaws and sinews, controlled by such a
will."
Copyrighted by the Mountain Democrat, 2002.
Reprinted by permission.
SNOWSHOE THOMPSON: Tahoe's
First Mailman
By
Don Lane
Of all the
people that have lived in our mountains, the one
person that truly became a legend during his
lifetime was a man who only lived to be 49, but a
man that was adventurous, fearless and the best
mountaineer to ever ski through the Tahoe
Basin.
His name was
John A. Thompson. It was during the winter of
1856, when he was 29-years old, when Thompson
heard that the mail wasn't getting through the
Sierras during the winter because of the
snowstorms, and he recalled that during his
childhood days in Norway, they used these long,
heavy skis, they called "snowshoes," to get around
the mountains.
So he
fashioned a pair out of green oak, and although
they were over 10 feet long, and weighed about
twenty-five pounds, he knew they'd get him over
the snow. So he declared himself ready to carry
the mail across the mountains, and headed off from
Placerville to Carson Valley and back again the
rest of that winter ... and for the next 20
winters. Through blizzards, frigid winds, and
through whiteout conditions, Thompson carried the
mail.
The weight
of the bags usually ranged between sixty to eighty
pounds, but one winter his load often averaged
over 100 pounds. He never carried blankets, nor
did he even wear an overcoat, depending on
exercise to keep him warm. For water, he grabbed a
handful of snow, and his food consisted of only
some dried sausage, and a few crackers or
biscuits.
By the day,
he was guided by the trees and the rocks, for
Thompson was a student of the mountains. He had a
sixth sense about where he was, and never got
lost, never. During the night, he looked up to the
stars, like a mariner and sailed through the
Sierras, sliding over the drifts with his long
wood snowshoes, and pushing himself along with a
single wood pole.
Once near
Hope Valley, he ran into a pack of six hungry
wolves who were ripping at the carcass of some
animal. They started after him, but when he simply
stared them down and kept on skiing, they stopped
cold in their tracks and let him go his
way.
On another
day, Thompson ran into fresh tracks of grizzly
bears, but he was never harmed in twenty
years.
But although
Thompson braved the meanest winters Tahoe ever
saw, and faced down occasional wolves never
missing a trip, he couldn't overcome the inertia
of government, when he sought to obtain a small
pension for his 20-years of services, services
that he had provided for free to the residents of
Tahoe and Carson Valley, the sum of $6000.
Although everyone seemed to support his request,
he never received one red cent.
But when
John A. Thompson died of a liver ailment in Genoa
in 1876, he was loved and respected by every
resident in the Sierras, and would be known
forever as "Snowshoe Thompson," a Sierra
legend.
Reprinted, with permission, from the website of
the
Tahoe Regional Planning Agency
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