Together at the Ranch

I decided to go into town and spend time with Mom and Mary.  There were things that needed doing around Mom’s home.  I took cedar posts and a few short 2 x 4’s along to make a yard fence.  I would buy the woven wire needed in town.  Mom was hopeing to grow flowers and possibly a patch of grass next to the house.  Grass makes it seem cooler and there are days in a Miles City summer that you would try anything to lower the temperature.  Mom had planted a few trees around the house and they were starting to get some size.  The soil had a high amount of clay, but things seemed to grow better than one would imagine.  When we first bought the land it was an alfalfa field with a good crop.  It was irrigated when in production, but the ditches were closed when parcels sold.  The year we worked on Mom’s house, Grandpa’s acre had a fair crop of alfalfa.  Grandpa loaded the horse drawn mowing machine in the truck and transported it to town.  He hooked it up behind the truck and pulled it around his acre of alfalfa.  I think he mashed down more than he cut.  We shocked it and when dried, hauled it to the ranch.

I set the cedar posts and made two gates with the 2” x 4”s.  It gave Mom a sizeable side yard on the west and it extended around to the north end of the house.  The woven wire was fine enough to keep most critters out.  The gates were covered with the same wire.  Mom had an old lawn mower that she used to cut her area of lawn.  She planned to grow flowers and bushes along the fence.  To see her progress when I visited years later was impressive.  She was a hard worker and enjoyed seeing things grow.  It was good exercise for her, an added bonus.  Her little house looked inviting.

While in town we visited Aunt Ethel and Danny, her husband.  They were doing well in the same house I remembered, The smell of Clorox was in the air as she had been washing cloths,   All of their children were out of the house and on their own.  Several of the boys still worked in the railroad yards.  We had a good visit and caught up on everyone’s activities.  Aunt Ethel was surprised how we kids were spreading around; going to school and teaching.  Mary explained that she had finished a summer school session that would give her the certificate required to teach in the rural schools.  She had a contract to teach north of town that fall.

It was Friday and I planned to return to the ranch that afternoon.  Mom and Mary were free until Monday so rode along with me.  We swung by the post office to pick up mail and headed for the Hill’s, as we liked to put it.  It was perfect weather to get out and enjoy the first signs of fall.  Grandpa thought we might be able to catch fish in the river where Spring Creek emptied in.  That meant we would need to go down a very steep road before we got to the railroad bridge.  We could take the truck to the flat where the steep road began and it required the horses and wagon from then on.  We had done this when getting railroad ties from up the river past Spring Creek.

 The plan was to take the truck with our supplies and people down to the flat.  The wagon and team rendezvoused with everyone on the lower flat, and all supplies were transferred to the wagon.  Grandpa chained the wheel and offered a ride, but had no takers.  The rest of us scrambled down the

steep grade as best we could aided with walking sticks and holding on to each other.

Once on the lower flat, the ladies decided it looked safe, so climbed on board the wagon.  We kids walked along looking for interesting rocks or flowers.  As we got close to the railroad, Grandpa pointed out a spot on the hillside that had been leveled out.  He told us there had been a shack there. Apparently there had been a lot of drinking in the area, and when a bottle of whiskey was finished it had been set on the bank for target practice.  Broken bottles were every where.  Grandpa figured it most likely had been railroad men working on the track when it was laid through the area,

Our fishing wasn’t good, but we had a wonderful picnic and fun exploring up and down the river bank.  Grandpa took the team up Spring Creek a short distance so that they wouldn’t be frightened by a train.  Since the event by Dixon Creek, where the team was frightened as a train passed with a great deal of steam, smoke and noise had been so disastrous.  They had run away and Grandpa wasn’t going to take chances this time.  There was plentiful grass along the creek where they were staked.  One train did come along, and the horses paid little attention.  They were too busy eating.  When we were ready to go home, Grandpa gave the horses a drink out of the river.  As we walked back past the “broken bottle drinking place,” I resolved to return there some day with a metal detector to see if any treasures were hidden under the dust of years gone by.  I did that years later, but found nothing.  As we retraced our steps home, I had a feeling this might be the last time we would go on an outing together.  It was fun and created a pleasant memory. 

*Taken from "Which Road Should I Follow?, Volume 1, Growing up in the country", an autobiography by Edwin K. Hill.