Fall?

   It seems that the older I get, the faster the seasons change. Here in the woods, the leaves on the popple trees have started to turn a dark green color, a sure sign of things to come. In the big timber camps, a few men have been hired to build roads into the stands of big pines. Later in the year they'll be iced with the water wagons.
   Other men will be fixing up the bunk houses and cook shack. It takes a pile of firewood to keep a camp this size warm so many cords of wood need to be cut.
   It won't be long now until the cutting begins and won't stop until spring breakup. Six days a week and a day off for the Sky Pilot.  
  You can find the EBook Kindle edition of "The River Calls" at Amazon.com and at peaceriverbooks.com.    The Peace River Books blog is updated each day. 
   I invite you to visit "The River Calls" blog site each day too for a small look into what life was like a long time ago.

Good Reading,
Ron

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December 7, 1941

   On December 7, 1941, the timber industry came to a near screeching halt with the attack on Pearl Harbor, bringing the United States into a real shooting war. It was known far and wide that lumberjacks were a patriotic lot and the first to enlist in the US military.
   The timber companies were able to stay in business, but just barely. Contracts with the US War Department kept some of them running. Others survived by partnering up with their previous competitors.
   Timber was needed more than ever for the war effort. There were barracks and railroads to be built and there was a great need for timber, a lot of it. Things that the logging camps did by man and horsepower changed to gas and steam powered machines.
   The lumberjacks didn't win the war single-handed, but they made a great effort that nobody will ever forget.
   You can find the EBook Kindle edition of "The River Calls" at Amazon.com and at peaceriverbooks.com.    The Peace River Books blog is updated each day. 

   I invite you to visit "The River Calls" blog site each day for a small look into what life was like a long time ago.

Good Reading,
Ron

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Sky Pilot

   In the logging camps in early Minnesota, there was a traveling group of preachers who visited the logging camps each Sunday. Some were very good preachers and some, not so much. The good Sky Pilots collected a living wage from the offering plate. The bad ones preached to empty rooms.

   One of the best Sky Pilots in this area was Herb Peters. There weren't many lumberjacks that hadn't herd him preach salvation and some took the Fire and Brimstone to heart.

   The Sky Pilots were responsible for the small turnout on paydays at the local watering holes. Some of the Ladies of the Night were forced to move, on all because of Sky Pilot, Herb Peters.

   You can find the EBook Kindle edition of "The River Calls" at Amazon.com and at peaceriverbooks.com.    The Peace River Books blog is updated each day. 

   I invite you to visit "The River Calls" blog site each day for a small look into what life was like a long time ago.

Good Reading,
Ron

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The Fair

   As the population of the new state of Minnesota started to grow, people decided to start a yearly get together where folks could show off their home projects. It started out that it was just animals but then progressed to home made goods. Then it expanded from a single fair at the capital to yearly gatherings called county fairs.
   Soon there were folks showing off their quilts and pies. Judging was done by elected judges, each a professional in their own field.
   Children soon wanted to be part of the new fairs and formed an organization called 4H. The kids worked long and hard on their projects and entered them in the County Fair. If they won there, they went on to the State Fair.
   State Fairs became quite important in agriculture. If a prize bull won first place, he would be busy for quite some time.
   You can find the EBook Kindle edition of "The River Calls" at Amazon.com and at peaceriverbooks.com.    The Peace River Books blog is updated each day. 

   I invite you to visit "The River Calls" blog site each day for a small look into what life was like a long time ago.

Good Reading,
Ron

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Garden Treasure

   Up on the Bigfork River, gardens were made to help the families get through the hard times of winter. Seed was put in the ground in hopes of bringing forth full grown vegetables. But every so often, a hungry gardener would sneak a little taste. Creamed peas and potatoes. The potatoes had to be no bigger than a quarter. For those who've never tried this, here is my own personal recipe.
   First you rob the growing potato hills of about two and half pounds of small nugget potatoes. Then you shell enough peas to make a quart. The last thing is to milk old Buttercup of about three fourths of a gallon of fresh milk. Now you're nearly ready.
   Put the potatoes on to cook. Then put on the peas to cook. Then as the vegetables are cooked you rinse them and set them aside. Put the milk on to heat and bring it to a near boil. As it's warming, mix 3 level tablespoons of corn starch with 4 tablespoons of cold water.
   As the milk gets hot enough, pour in a little of the cornstarch mixture a little at a time while stirring the milk. Then salt and pepper to taste. Dump in the peas and potatoes and stir. A pinch of sugar brings it all together.
   You've just prepared the finest food known to man.
   You can find the EBook Kindle edition of "The River Calls" at Amazon.com and at peaceriverbooks.com. The Peace River Books blog is updated each day. 

   I invite you to visit "The River Calls" blog site each day for a small look into what life was like a long time ago.

Good Reading,
Ron

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Grayback races...

   In the timber camps, entertainment was rather rare so the lumberjacks had to provide their own. Sometimes it got a little wild in those bunkhouses. Most times it was pretty interesting.
   When a new jack came into the bunkhouse, it was open season. 
   One of the men would draw a circle on the floor and then some of the others would join in. There would be a snuff can in the center of the circle and each man would pretend to pick a gray back (lice) off their neck and put it in the can. Then the betting would commence.
   After some spirited banter, someone would tip over the can and pretend to watch as the gray backs headed for the edge of the circle. Eventually they would draw the new guy into the betting and take some of his money.
   It was all done in fun, but there were a lot of lice in those bunkhouses. "Oh how they itches, those sons a bitches"
   You can find the EBook Kindle edition of "The River Calls" at Amazon.com and at peaceriverbooks.com. The Peace River Books blog is updated each day. 

   I invite you to visit "The River Calls" blog site each day for a small look into what life was like a long time ago.

Good Reading,
Ron

Cover Design and Formatting by coversareus.com

Fruit Canning Season

   In my book "The River Calls" I talk about how preserving foods was such an important part of early life on the Bigfork River. Local fruits, vegetables and meat was all canned in glass jars. But with the arrival of a General Store, lugs of fresh fruit became available at a reasonable price.
   Most folks back then hadn't even seen a fresh peach or a pear. So now with the arrival of this fruit, canning it became a problem. There was such a small window of time to can it and if it took too long, the fruit spoiled.
   The fruit was peeled and cored and packed in glass jars. Then a mixture of water and sugar was poured into the jars. A lid was placed on the jars and then they all went into a pot of boiling water. That took quite a bit of time for the jars to seal.
   The best part was when the jars of fruit were all lined up on the table. Then as they cooled the lids would pop telling the whole house that they were all prepared for the winter. 
   You can find the EBook Kindle edition of "The River Calls" at Amazon.com and at peaceriverbooks.com. The Peace River Books blog is updated each day. 

   I invite you to visit "The River Calls" blog site each day for a small look into what life was like a long time ago.

Good Reading,
Ron

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