The
saga of the Old Shoe Tree—the big cottonwood on U.S. 50 near Middlegate
that’s filled with hanging shoes—refuses to die. It lives on despite the fact a
vandal cut down the original shoe tree a few years ago.
In
response to that terrible deed, Middlegaters and other fans of the shoe tree
designated another cottonwood down the road as the inheritor of the legend and
a new shoe tree was born.
Drivers
on U.S. 50—celebrating its 30th anniversary as the Loneliest Road in
America in 2016—pass by the tree and see hundreds of pairs of sneakers,
boots, oxfords and other footwear hanging from the tree’s limbs by their
strings.
While
there are a number of variations on the legend of the shoe tree, the basic
story, according to Fredda Stevenson, co-owner of the Middlegate Station bar
and grill, is that sometime in the early 1990s a young couple from Oregon had
traveled to Reno to get married.
They
decided to spend their honeymoon camping along U.S. 50 and stopped under the
original shoe tree.
In
an interview several years ago with an Associated Press reporter, Stevenson
explained: “They camped by the tree. They had their first big fight. The girl
threatened to walk to Oregon. He took her shoes, tied the laces in a knot and
threw them up in the tree.
“He
said, ‘If you’re going to walk home, you’re going to have to climb a tree
first.’”
Stevenson
told the reporter that the husband “drove down here
and we talked for two or three hours. I told him to go back and say he was
sorry and that it was all his fault.”
She said the man took her advice, the couple made up and drove
away. A year later they stopped by to show off their first child, whose first
pair of shoes were tossed into the tree.
Over
time, others saw the shoes in the cottonwood, which was about 70 feet tall, and
began tossing their own footwear into its branches.
Over
the years, the tree became a local landmark. It wasn’t uncommon to see cars
with out-of-state license plates pull over to the side of the road so the
occupants could snap a few photos of the unusual sight of a tree brimming with
hanging footwear.
In
December 2010, however, vandals chopped down the original tree with a chainsaw.
The demise of the local icon generated national media attention and in February
2011 a memorial for the tree was even held.
“It
was like a good friend had just died,” Stevenson told the Los Angeles Times.
She said she began to cry when she first heard the news about the tree’s
demise.
The
Times reported that the memorial service attracted dozens of people including
“leather-clad bikers, dreadlocked artists, giggling children, retirees toting
cameras and camping chairs. Dozens more peered across the two-lane road.”
But
that’s not the end of the story. A few months after the original shoe tree was
cut down, a second cottonwood located about 10 to 20 yards away from the site
of the original began to fill up with shoes.
The
legend lives on. Good.