They traded with local villagers and with each other, for the items necessary to make it through the harsh mountain winters. It was said that an old woman, whom some might call a witch, came down from Knob Hill in the west and planted the tree beside the spring, and charged it with the task of signaling to travelers when the time of the trade meetings grew near.

Whether or not this tale is true, the fact remains that year after year, for as long as anyone can remember, a week to the day after the giant oak begins to change, artists and craftsmen from the mountains arrive in town and set up their wares in thee park around the great tree, intent on making small fortunes by overcharging tourists who’ve grown bored with the mass appeal of Pottery Barn and are ready to shell out ridiculous amounts for an Authentic Handmade Original.