Cats can be the agents of quiet revenge. Perhaps poetic justice is more appropriate. Either way, it began when the late model white Lincoln Town Car Signature Series slowly cruised up our potholed ranch lane after crossing the bridge over the swollen snowmelt torrent of Agency Creek. It had been …
Prairie Women
There’s one place that has always struck me in this unrelentingly desolate piece of real estate. I found a spot to camp there one summer night just off the highway where I pulled pickup and stock trailer off of the pavement onto a lonely road that stretched across the desert. I’d been going …
Finding Their Way Home
Without a word, the bush guide, Jack, gestured to us to come with him to the dust-crusted large side window of our packed gear van. He reached up, torn flannel plaid sleeve waving, and his grease impregnated index finger began to etch a jagged line that would span the glass. The line in the dirt: a …
Full Curl Ramming on Highway 93
The southbound semi, loaded with a swaying 63,000 pounds of Douglas-fir lumber freshly harvested, milled and kiln dried from the forests of Montana, chugged around the hairpin curve, and slammed on the brakes, locking them up, laying down rubber and smoke. The King of the canyon stood in the way and …
Alderspring from the Bee Point of View
When Tom takes off the winter blankets from the hives, I try to remember to keep my mouth shut. I’m no beekeeper, to be sure, but you pick up a few things when you have as many bees as we do on the Ranch: over 1 million, by Tom’s estimate. Since our headquarters ranch is about 2.5 miles long, …
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The Quiet Kind of Horsepower
I’ll never recommend using a draft horse as a babysitter, but in a pinch, I guess they’ll have to do. It was a leaf-blowing autumn day, and the air was thick with the fragrance of decay back on the first edition of Alderspring Ranch, in Tendoy, Idaho. Snow had already encrusted the peaks of …