Breakfast trout; specifically, Dolly Vardens. It’s what 20-year-old Frances Alder would soon have in her creel. The year: 1948. The war had just ended a few years back, and she and her new husband, Ron were working a grubstake all their own in the mountain country of Idaho. They didn’t have more than a few dollars to their name, but that didn’t …
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Just a Little Lost
Dear Friends I was actually glad the blizzard started again. Driving wind, gusting to something around 50 miles per hour blasted horizontal snow in my face. Upwind, I could barely hear the wolves howling. At least Melanie and Abby wouldn’t hear them again. They were buried under a mountain of loose clothing in my truck. When the big dogs …
When Iron Depreciates–Or How to Burn a Lynx
Earlier this week, Tracy was helping me at the Custer County DMV window. I was switching off plates from one of our ranch pickup trucks to another. She was intently concentrating on the computer screen in front of her, mouse under hand, scanning through our registered vehicles. “Yep…that red chevy—I’ll pull the plates off that and put them …
On Colts and Coming Full Circle
“Make sure you get that cinch pulled tight!” Maddy’s teeth clenched and her chin set as she pulled the latigo as snug as she could. Her colt stood quietly next to her as she wordlessly struggled with the cinch, trying her best to get it done up right. I could tell she was nervous, though Maddy is stoic and doesn’t often let on when she’s not sure …
Of Bison and Beavers
Let’s roll back the clock 34 years, and I’m still me. Instead of my 2021 gray, my hair is the dirty blonde that goes with my blue eyes of Dutch ancestry. I’m working in the forests in the steep and rocky mountains of Central Idaho. I’m in great shape from hiking up and down at elevations of up to 10,000 feet in my timber work, planting trees, …
The Range of Wisdom
After I lit the Coleman gas lantern in the cook-tent I stepped out through the open flaps and took one last look out in the fading light. The horse string was scattered out on their hillside night graze of bluebunch wheatgrass, and below them, over 400 head of yearling cattle bedded down contentedly after long day’s sojourn on rich spring grass. We …
Returning to Our Home on the Range
This piece was first featured on the On Land website. On Land is published by the Western Landowner's Alliance. The publication highlights voices and stories of stewardship in the West. Visit their website for more information, to subscribe, or to read more about the efforts of those who are conserving and regenerating western landscapes. It was …
Where Surf Meets Turf
The October moon had risen high enough to yield the dapple of breeze swayed luminescence over our camp under the tall cottonwoods on the banks of the Salmon River. Caryl and I were spiked out for a few days at the very lowest elevation of the Hat Creek ranges, where we summer cattle. Just a month ago, 400 head of Alderspring beeves were trailed by …