Month: June 2019

One of the great wonders of our family trip in 1962 was Yellowstone National Park. I don’t know how well my memory serves me, but having a few photos from that trip helps to keep it alive.

Buffalo are the kings of the highway. If they’re on the road, you stop. On our drive through Yellowstone, we stopped to see elk and to look for moose. There’s little to compare with seeing a moose in shallow water eating the marsh grasses or at the edge of the water pulling down a willow limb. We drove along and soon cars slowed down to a stop. If cars are stopped up ahead, you can almost guarantee there is something you need to see. There was a bear! That’s one of the prizes in Yellowstone! It was so close Daddy was able to get a good picture. I remember being scared that the bear would come over to the car and rip the door off to get to me. What a sight! I still get all jiggly inside when I see a bear in the wild. The massiveness of their haunches and the power they can wield is frightening but awesome.

Yellowstone Lake was gorgeous – and cold. The waterfalls were impressive as the upper falls tumbled into the canyon then continued to flow into the lower falls dropping some 300 feet. The canyon is absolutely breathtaking. To a little girl, the whole scene was massive. It seems when you’re little, everything looks bigger. 

We were there to see Old Faithful erupt. Though I’ve seen her many times, she’s still amazing to witness. Walking along the boardwalk with the sizzling of fissures sending out a burst of sulfuric steam was intimidating. Morning Glory pool showed off its brilliant colors. The “Stinky Paint Pots,” as my grandmother called them, boiled and with each bubble of mud that burped, a smell that matched was released. Boiling mud, caked sulfur, people relaxing in hot thermal pools along the edge of the cold rushing river, the Dragons’ Mouth, the white cascading steps of Mammoth Hot Springs – all of those things come to mind when I think of my first visit. It is truly a wonder to behold and to experience. Can you imagine explorers seeing that land for the first time?

Outside of the park, we went to Hebgen Lake. That was eerie! The Hebgen Lake Earthquake of 1959, aka Yellowstone Earthquake, ravaged the land. It was the strongest and deadliest quake to hit Montana. When we visited in 1962, there was still debris from landslides. Jagged sections of road still lay at an angle where the quake had ripped the road in pieces, looking like uneven edges of a giant jigsaw puzzle. An old house barely hung to the bank while other parts of the house were submerged in the lake. The boys walked into the house. I just knew the house was going to break free and float to the bottom. I told Mama they didn’t need to go in there! Truth be known, I think she agreed and probably voiced her disapproval to Daddy. 

All those sights, feelings, smells and thoughts are etched into my memory. What a blessing it has been to be able to go there with my children and grandchildren. My desire is that they will hold those memories close and make new ones for themselves!

Traveling across the country was just the beginning of the adventures we would have once we reached Uncle Buster’s house. He was full of laughter, practical jokes and fun. Uncle Buster was my grandfather’s brother. He was a rancher, hunter, trapper, homesteader, horse wrangler, bronc rider, marksman, storyteller, water-witcher, cowboy, and sheepherder. 

One day Uncle Buster took us on a grand adventure. I was in the cab of the truck. The big kids piled in the back of the truck with Daddy. Uncle Buster didn’t need lines on the road to drive. He didn’t even need a road. He drove his old beat up green truck like he rode one of the cantankerous bucking broncs. We bucked across the eastern Montana hills dotted with prickly pears and sagebrush and bounced on the road swerving from ditch to ditch, dust flying at our heels. It was an adventure just riding with him even if no other adventures popped up, but that day, adventures popped up. 

We drove along a bumpy road through dry land adorned with rock outcroppings, scrubby bushes and a few gnarled trees. An occasional antelope could be seen grazing on dry grass in the wide-open countryside.  As we rode, the clouds began to join one another. Then they changed colors. They turned dark and green. The darker they got, the faster Uncle Buster drove. He said, “We better find a place quick! Hail’s a comin’.” He was already going as fast as he could, but he made that old beat up truck go even faster. Miles ahead, we saw one little store in the town of Ingomar come into view. It grew larger as we got closer. We kicked up dust as Uncle Buster skidded to a stop. We jumped out of the truck with one command, “Run!” Just as the screen door slammed behind us, the clouds erupted and belched forth ice from the sky clad with green clouds. Balls of ice danced and bounced off the ground. As we waited for the angry sky to stop throwing stones, we were treated to ice cold cokes. That was a rare treat! When it was all done, the ground was white, covered with ice. The top of the truck had more dents than when we had started. I learned a couple of things that day: green clouds mean “hail’s a comin’,” and Uncle Buster was better than a weatherman. He could read the sky.

Our adventure wasn’t quite over. We were off again with Uncle Buster telling stories as he drove. It wasn’t long before he pulled off the side of the road. His eyes were twinkling, and he was chuckling about something. He was always up to some kind of mischief. He loved to tease and play jokes, especially on rowdy boys. We all piled out of the truck. We looked off into the flat land scattered with little mounds of dirt. Occasionally, we could see little fuzzy critters that looked like sentries standing guard. They made funny little chirping noises as they called to one another. It was a prairie dog town. Uncle Buster laughed and told the boys to go catch one of the prairie dogs. Those three boys took off running as fast as they could to see who could catch one first. Uncle Buster laughed that deep robust laugh that gurgled from the bottom of his stomach. That game didn’t last too long. The boys soon came back. They didn’t have a prairie dog, but they sure brought back plenty because they were covered with fleas. 

Uncle Buster had a good laugh that lasted for days. I can still hear his hearty laughter echoing through the years.

The ‘57 Dodge was packed. I was ready for my first long trip. Of course, I didn’t have much to do to get ready, but my mother was a different story! It wasn’t until I was grown that I realized what a chore that was for her – trying to keep herd on 6 kids and a husband, prepare food, make sure everyone had clothing and essentials, along with a gazillion other little details. At 5 years old, I was just excited! I was extra excited because it was to be my first trip to Montana.

Daddy named the appointed time for departure. I learned quickly that he did not abide by that rule regardless of Mama’s disapproval. It didn’t matter what time in the morning he planned on leaving, by 1:00 a.m. he was itching and ready to go. He’d come to our room and say, “Are you kids awake?” When we all exclaimed, “Yes,” he’d say, “Let’s go!” I can still hear the crickets and feel the humid night air and the darkness as we scrambled out of the house and crammed into the car. There was an excitement in the air and anticipation that cannot be described. Darkness soon gave way to light filtering over the horizon and soon the sun would peak over the landscape. With the coming dawn, I was filled with a second wind as the day was filled with promise and adventure.

I still marvel at how we all fit into the car. Most of the time, one kid sat in the front seat with mama and daddy, 4 kids in the back seat and one kid in the back window – that would be me! I always thought I had the best “seat.” I didn’t want to sleep or take my eyes off the changing landscape. We went from thick forests of the south with tall pines and oaks, across flat plains, crossing rivers of all sizes, to mountains rising from prairies. We came to hills that looked like patchwork quilts. Crops of wheat, oats, alfalfa, and more, along with fallow fields, made quite a display of greens, browns, and golds as grains reflected in the sun. The sky got bigger as we went west. I still remember asking about those black shapes that moved along the ground. It was hard for me to believe that they were shadows cast from the clouds – the same clouds that became dragons, dogs, alligators and other things. As day turned to night, the vast skies came to life with the stars winking at me. Seeing antelope meant that we had reached the west. Rolling hills were covered with sagebrush and prickly pears.

We made a few stops along the long road through South Dakota. We stopped at the Corn Palace in Mitchell. A & W in Chamberlain was a must. We stopped there every time we went that way until it was no longer in operation. When we crossed the Missouri River, the land changed drastically into sagebrush hills. My mother always, and I mean always, wanted to go through the Badlands. She marveled at the harsh barren colored hills. She called the Badlands “God’s Cathedral.”

Our first stop to visit family was at my great uncle’s place. My sister and I would often sleep outside with a couple of our cousins. That’s where I heard my first coyote. I ran into the house to tell my uncle that there was a little kid out on the prairie calling for its mama. He laughed when I described the sound, “maamaaaa, maamaaaa.” I was skeptical when he told me that was just a den of coyote pups. My imagination worked overtime when I thought the coyotes would jump over the short wire fence around the yard and drag me off to their den. Though the mournful cries scared me and sent shivers down my spine, I wouldn’t give in to my fear. Now when I hear those calls across the hills, it is comforting somehow. 

Something magical happened to me on that trip. I caught the fever of adventure – of exploring new places. That fever continues to burn inside me today. Actually, I think it was given to me at birth. I still find myself in awe as I travel down country roads. I don’t want to miss a thing. I still look out the window with that childlike wonder, but now I get the front seat.