Over the years a number of our friends came up on the mountain with family members and they had various reactions to life on the mountain. I remember one of mother's friends telling mother that the mountain was like death, it was so quiet except for the eternal sound of the breeze in the trees, no people, no access to stores, no electricity, that to her it seemed like a total extinction of all the things she loved and missed. Mother told her that the mountain was life, that all life was here on the mountain.
While it was and is true that life on the mountain can be dangerous, and it was true that there was no law except the law we made, still the night was full of life and the day full of excitement. For in the city there is nothing except the sun that is natural, every thing one needs to live has to be brought in. On the mountain you have food, heat, water and safety, it is all there for the taking, in the city if a disaster occurs, there is nothing but the sun and all would die without outside help. The mountain then draws us over and over to return for here is life and safety.
To see that this is so, on the mountain there are some wild horses. People down below do on occasion lose the ability to keep a horse, which has no food or water or shelter so that they take the horse to life, towards the mountain, and let it go hoping that it can survive the winter. Some times we know who brought the horse up and some times not. The black stallion is one of those horses. He was big, black and beautiful but as wild as a march hare. He also was mean.
One beautiful day Joanne, Fritz, Kampe and I decided to go visit the Kings. It was about a three mile walk, we took the road and not a short cut. We walked for some time dodging rattlers by walking in the middle of the road, telling lies and laughing as we went. As we rounded a curve, behind us we heard a blood curling scream, we could not tell what animal it came from, it was just a loud frightening scream. I turned and looked behind just in time to see the black stallion bearing down on us at a full gallop. There wasn't time to run or move off the road and he galloped right between us nearly knocking us down and continued down the road and disappeared. The horse looked like he had not even seen us, he was shaking his head and appeared enraged.
As we gathered our selves together after being scattered like dry leaves on the road, we continued on our way to the King's place. When we got to the corner of the meadow where the road followed along side we left the road and walked along the fence.
After going about a thousand feet we heard another scream, piercing and frightening, we looked across the road and up the hill and there at the top of the hill stood the stallion obviously in a rage, twisting, rearing and shaking his head as he pounded the ground with his hoofs. It looked as if he had gotten behind us and was preparing for a deadly charge, then he did, straight at us on a dead run down the hill.
This was my first experience of dead fear combined with panic and thoughts of death. I guess every one has to face something like this once in his youth in order to face other dangers sure to come in the future with some composure. I did like any red blooded American child, I ran for my life towards a very small pine, about nine feet tall and four inches across. Unfortunately my sister was fleeter of foot and got there first. The tree was too small to hold even one of us, but we fought for it. At the same time my husband, to be at some time, took out his six inch blade, stood tall, spread his legs and shouted "Run girls, I will protect you" So help me God that is what he said.
It is no wonder young males have such a short longevity. My brother Fritz rolled under a fence only about ten inches off the ground. He is the only one who escaped to safety. Unfortunately for all of us, the stallion was not after us, he wanted to beat up Pasco who was in the meadow. We had unknowingly gotten between Pasco and the stallion. Pasco wanted none of this and galloped away to the other side of the pasture, being of a wise nature.
Kampe had been almost knocked down, but the stallion did not seem to notice him.
It was an unfortunate occurance as we had all made fools of ourselves and it was something that we did not wish to discuss.
As I recall we had had enough "Call of the Wild" for a while and went back home with our tails between our legs. I don't recall telling mother why we returned so soon.
Friday, January 9, 2009
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
The unrest cure at Bella union flats
Mischief making can be a grand and glorious thing and if there is one thing we Heysers did well, it was to make mischief. When our parents were young and ignorant they pulled off a coo that went so well we decided to give it a try.
The Paiutes had a camping place Bella Union Flats just off the main road. Frankly I thought it was a dreary place, no river, mostly sage brush and sand, not a place to take a man's thoughts off his troubles so we decided to help them to freshen their lives.
Kampe, Fritz and I told mother we were gong to take a little walk, though it was after dark and something we did not usually do. We picked up a shovel and grabbed a gun on the way out and headed down the road to Bella Union flats. There were three or four campers there who really needed our help and experience.
When we found the camp the men were talking softly and playing cards. We stood at the top of a little hill about four hundred feet from them and planned our moves.
Now at night on the mountain, when the air is still and cold, sound will travel at least five miles and probably eight. I have heard men up at the sawmill walking or talking behind the smoke stack when they thought no one could hear them late at night. So we knew that the campers would hear every word and sound we made.
Kampe and I started talking loudly, just ordinary conversation held by a couple on a walk, and then Fritz howled like a wolf. Then Kampe and I both talked about the wolf like we were afraid. Kampe said not to worry as he had a gun. Then I screamed and fired my gun three or four times while Kampe said "Oh God, you are hit, Oh God". Then Kampe cried into the darkness moaning about my supposed death, then silence. Then Fritz took the shovel and started to dig, our hearts were pounding and the campers had become very quiet. Then we silently slunk away as the campers pondered their unrest cure. Their lives were no longer boring and we felt good about our labors.
On the way home in the dark silence we sang a hefty song about a little puppy's love. It went some thing like this. "Its our time for love, its our time for romance said little puppy he to little puppy she, its our time for love" When we said "love" we howled it loud and clear, the whole mountain probably heard us and thought "it 's just the Heyser kids on the prowl".
The Paiutes had a camping place Bella Union Flats just off the main road. Frankly I thought it was a dreary place, no river, mostly sage brush and sand, not a place to take a man's thoughts off his troubles so we decided to help them to freshen their lives.
Kampe, Fritz and I told mother we were gong to take a little walk, though it was after dark and something we did not usually do. We picked up a shovel and grabbed a gun on the way out and headed down the road to Bella Union flats. There were three or four campers there who really needed our help and experience.
When we found the camp the men were talking softly and playing cards. We stood at the top of a little hill about four hundred feet from them and planned our moves.
Now at night on the mountain, when the air is still and cold, sound will travel at least five miles and probably eight. I have heard men up at the sawmill walking or talking behind the smoke stack when they thought no one could hear them late at night. So we knew that the campers would hear every word and sound we made.
Kampe and I started talking loudly, just ordinary conversation held by a couple on a walk, and then Fritz howled like a wolf. Then Kampe and I both talked about the wolf like we were afraid. Kampe said not to worry as he had a gun. Then I screamed and fired my gun three or four times while Kampe said "Oh God, you are hit, Oh God". Then Kampe cried into the darkness moaning about my supposed death, then silence. Then Fritz took the shovel and started to dig, our hearts were pounding and the campers had become very quiet. Then we silently slunk away as the campers pondered their unrest cure. Their lives were no longer boring and we felt good about our labors.
On the way home in the dark silence we sang a hefty song about a little puppy's love. It went some thing like this. "Its our time for love, its our time for romance said little puppy he to little puppy she, its our time for love" When we said "love" we howled it loud and clear, the whole mountain probably heard us and thought "it 's just the Heyser kids on the prowl".
Sunday, January 4, 2009
The friday night bath
The Friday Night Bath
Copyright Andrea Heyser 2009
All of the lucky people who live in cities probably never think about their bath, getting one is as easy as taking a drink of water. They heat their bath room with a flip of a switch, fire a scented candle, turn on some sweet music and then turn on the water. It flows hot and steamy from a polished faucet, bubbling and musical, and you just climb in. The water flows across your body, warming every little area, the candle light shimmers about every wave and you are cleansed.
Ah yes, this is truly city life with hedonistic wants, and few real needs.
On the mountain taking a bath is no quick affair. There is nothing hedonistic about it and it is taken out of raw need. Because it is so time consuming the bath is taken only on Friday and that day is like a celebration, a time of change and a little excitement.
First in the morning the wood must be gathered and chopped and because the fire in the stove must go all day, lots of wood must be collected. As I am the weakest one in the family I often wondered why this task fell to me. But it was my life and I had to deal with it. So before breakfast I ran down the hill looking for oak branches dry and crisp to take home to cut. It seems like each day the branches were further away from the cabin and it takes longer to get them home. But one by one they are found and taken home where they had to be cut up into suitable sizes for the wood stove.
During breakfast the stove is covered with pots and teakettles of all sizes for the laundry as it is a foolish person who cleans his body and leaves his sheet dirty especially when most sheets have been used by dogs as well as people and by kittens for those who have a kitten to love them. Joanne's bed frequently had a dead mouse or two in it as her kitten tried to feed her at night and Joanne swears she did not eat any of them.
It takes hours to wash sheets and heat more water for the next person, but eventually the job is done. We heat water all day and wash all day until finally the sheets are washed and again placed on each bed. Then comes bath time.
Since it gets cold later in the day we have to build a fire in the fire place, this uses wood that has been cut by some one else, usually father. The bath ritual takes place in front of the fire place in full view of the observers. The wood stove is glowing red from all the use and finally the water is hot. Next we haul in a tub, a laundry tub actually, it is too small and scratchy on the bottom and it overflows easily if one moves too much, but it is our life and again we have to deal.
The first bather, usually the cleanest one, takes off her clothes while shouting for everyone not to look, and climbs in. The fireplace is only about four feet away, it crackles and glows and feels so cosy warm. The least dirty one then washes while being encouraged to get out as soon as possible as others are waiting. If the water is not too dirty, then someone else climbs in and then finally the tub is dragged out to the porch where it is emptied and refilled.
More wood is put into the stove and fireplace and the ritual continues until all are satisfied. Going to bed that night is so good, the kittens purr, the coyotes howl and all is well.
Now, there is a simpler way to bathe at the cabin, that is to use the little wood stand just below the spring. Here you stand naked for all to see and let spring water pour down your body leaving behind muscles in total rigor mortise. There is no joy in the heart of the person bathing in this manner and I believe that his life will be short.
I tend to be a bit more romantic that the others in my family and I decided to bath at midnight in the moon light in the creek.There were a few complications I had not thought of and I don't think I will ever do that again.
Once in Yellowstone my sister and I found a volcanic pool in the forest and no one was around. This was my chance to have a romantic bath!. I can't remember if Joanne joined me, but I took off my clothes and climbed into this beautiful pool, with little benches of stone around it and blue water and a perfect temperature. It was a delightful moment for me and for a few others that passed by, but when I climbed out some things were missing. I failed to notice the water was soft and slimy, perhaps a tad acidic. The dirt was gone, a little skin and a lot of hair had dissolved.
Still, all in all it was great.
Bathing on the mountain takes a little getting used to, but I would not trade it for anything except to have the tub all to my self.
Copyright Andrea Heyser 2009
All of the lucky people who live in cities probably never think about their bath, getting one is as easy as taking a drink of water. They heat their bath room with a flip of a switch, fire a scented candle, turn on some sweet music and then turn on the water. It flows hot and steamy from a polished faucet, bubbling and musical, and you just climb in. The water flows across your body, warming every little area, the candle light shimmers about every wave and you are cleansed.
Ah yes, this is truly city life with hedonistic wants, and few real needs.
On the mountain taking a bath is no quick affair. There is nothing hedonistic about it and it is taken out of raw need. Because it is so time consuming the bath is taken only on Friday and that day is like a celebration, a time of change and a little excitement.
First in the morning the wood must be gathered and chopped and because the fire in the stove must go all day, lots of wood must be collected. As I am the weakest one in the family I often wondered why this task fell to me. But it was my life and I had to deal with it. So before breakfast I ran down the hill looking for oak branches dry and crisp to take home to cut. It seems like each day the branches were further away from the cabin and it takes longer to get them home. But one by one they are found and taken home where they had to be cut up into suitable sizes for the wood stove.
During breakfast the stove is covered with pots and teakettles of all sizes for the laundry as it is a foolish person who cleans his body and leaves his sheet dirty especially when most sheets have been used by dogs as well as people and by kittens for those who have a kitten to love them. Joanne's bed frequently had a dead mouse or two in it as her kitten tried to feed her at night and Joanne swears she did not eat any of them.
It takes hours to wash sheets and heat more water for the next person, but eventually the job is done. We heat water all day and wash all day until finally the sheets are washed and again placed on each bed. Then comes bath time.
Since it gets cold later in the day we have to build a fire in the fire place, this uses wood that has been cut by some one else, usually father. The bath ritual takes place in front of the fire place in full view of the observers. The wood stove is glowing red from all the use and finally the water is hot. Next we haul in a tub, a laundry tub actually, it is too small and scratchy on the bottom and it overflows easily if one moves too much, but it is our life and again we have to deal.
The first bather, usually the cleanest one, takes off her clothes while shouting for everyone not to look, and climbs in. The fireplace is only about four feet away, it crackles and glows and feels so cosy warm. The least dirty one then washes while being encouraged to get out as soon as possible as others are waiting. If the water is not too dirty, then someone else climbs in and then finally the tub is dragged out to the porch where it is emptied and refilled.
More wood is put into the stove and fireplace and the ritual continues until all are satisfied. Going to bed that night is so good, the kittens purr, the coyotes howl and all is well.
Now, there is a simpler way to bathe at the cabin, that is to use the little wood stand just below the spring. Here you stand naked for all to see and let spring water pour down your body leaving behind muscles in total rigor mortise. There is no joy in the heart of the person bathing in this manner and I believe that his life will be short.
I tend to be a bit more romantic that the others in my family and I decided to bath at midnight in the moon light in the creek.There were a few complications I had not thought of and I don't think I will ever do that again.
Once in Yellowstone my sister and I found a volcanic pool in the forest and no one was around. This was my chance to have a romantic bath!. I can't remember if Joanne joined me, but I took off my clothes and climbed into this beautiful pool, with little benches of stone around it and blue water and a perfect temperature. It was a delightful moment for me and for a few others that passed by, but when I climbed out some things were missing. I failed to notice the water was soft and slimy, perhaps a tad acidic. The dirt was gone, a little skin and a lot of hair had dissolved.
Still, all in all it was great.
Bathing on the mountain takes a little getting used to, but I would not trade it for anything except to have the tub all to my self.
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