I want to say it was during WW1 that this story takes place although I’m not all together positive. Typically the mail arrived daily by train but because it was during the war when coal was scarce and there wasn’t a lot of mail that needed to be delivered every day to Arboles, the post decided to let the mail accumulate to a sizable bundle that they would hand out once a week.
A young lady living in the area was expecting a letter from her sweetheart who was off at war and she heard that the train wouldn’t be making it scheduled delivery until the following week. Intent on getting her letter, she went down to the train tracks where it angled upwards over all large incline and smeared bear grease on the tracks. Bear grease. When the train came barreling through it couldn’t get enough traction to get up the hill because of all the grease and had to stop in Arboles. The girl got her letter. Ever since the mail has always been delivered to the town despite the size of the bundle.
That seems to sum up the ethos of this area—the taking of matters into their own hands with a resounding, “The hell I will…”
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