Chapter 13
After arranging with Mrs. Woods, the campground owner, to save her spot for another night, Willy drove out of town after breakfast and headed for the hills that ringed the west of the valley. She had gotten instructions to reach a local trout farm and the sulfur springs that were supposed to be popular and interesting tourist attractions.
They smelled the sulfur springs long before they came in sight. There was an old building that had once housed a swimming pool but had fallen into ruin. Mrs. Woods had told them that she had taken swimming lessons there when she was a little girl. She said you got used to the smell after a while and the warm water was relaxing. You couldn't see anything underwater, though, because it was murky and greenish. The smell never would come out of her swimming suits.
Willy went to the small, broken down house nearby and knocked on the door, intending to ask for information about the area. She was greeted by an ornery old codger who ordered her off his property and almost brought her to tears by his hostile manner. Apologizing and trying to explain her purpose didn't do any good and she backed off quickly and drove away. “Well, I guess I won’t get any pictures there,” she said.
"It doesn't look like anything any tourist would want to see anyway," observed Aggie. "The smell is the only interesting thing and you can get that just by driving by."
They drove a few more miles down the road and found a sign pointing the way to the trout ranch. "I've heard of cattle ranches and sheep ranches, but I've never heard of a fish ranch," Aggie chuckled.
"They have a lot of fish farms in the Northwest," Willy told her. "They raise the fish commercially to sell to canneries and as fresh meat."
They pulled into a grassy parking area surrounded by willows. There was a small bridge over a stream but no buildings in sight. Walking over the bridge and following a path through the willows, they came upon several small ponds. "Look at all the fish!" squealed Jeffy. He ran to the edge of the nearest pond, absorbed in watching the huge trout swimming lazily in the water.
"Would you like to try catching some?" drawled a voice behind them. Turning, they saw a handsome teenager walk up with a big net and a couple of fishing poles. Willy heard Aggie's intake of breath at his appearance.
Unable to resist the impassioned pleas of her children, Willy relented and let them try their hand at fishing. Allison and Jeffy hooked fish after fish but they were so crafty and experienced at being caught that before any could be netted, they spit out the hook and fell back into the water. Eventually, though, one unwary fish swallowed the hook and was successfully landed. It was great to have the boy do all the baiting and fish handling. Both Allison and Jeffy managed to catch big ones. The attendant measured them. Allison's was nineteen inches and was a Cutthroat trout and Jeffy's was a Rainbow at seventeen inches.
They watched the young man gut the fish in a very experienced and efficient manner. The highlight for Jeffy, although Willy and Allison nearly gagged, was when he took out the heart of one of the fish and placed it, still beating, in his palm. Aggie's eyes were riveted on the boy and she wasn't bothered by anything he did.
"Why does it still move when the fish is dead?" asked Jeffy, always fascinated by anything new. "What does it feel like? When will it stop beating? What do you do with all the insides?"
The boy answered all the questions while he worked. He seemed to enjoy his job and didn't mind being subjected to Willy's camera. Aggie whispered that she wanted some of these pictures.
Willy had gotten the little fishermen on film as well as the ponds and the fish. The whole area was very scenic and pretty. She told the operator about her writing project and he was so pleased to have his family's trout business included in her article with it's potential for free advertising that he let her have the fish for half the normal price. That was fortunate because it would have cost a bundle and used up two days allotment of food money.
When the fish were wrapped and put in the cooler, they started on their way back toward town. "What else can we see around here?" asked Aggie then immediately squealed, "Look! There's a fox!"
They all crowded to the windows and Willy stopped as they watched the fox trot slowly through a pasture. The cows eyed it suspiciously, but the fox was intent on searching through the tall grass for rabbits or mice for its dinner. "I've never seen a real, wild fox before," Aggie said. “Look at the size of his tail. It’s huge!”
They saw a few deer on the low hills as they wound their way back toward the main highway. This was such a beautiful valley. It lay peacefully in the sun, the clear air and bright sunshine lighting the even fields divided by fences.
They drove on the blacktopped road down the entire west side of the valley then crossed over to the main highway that followed the eastern hills. They noticed one of the foothills that was blackened partway across its front. It looked like a forest fire had burned there, except there were no trees.
Jeffy noticed the star up high on the hill above Afton and wished that he could climb up and see what it looked like up close. Willy told him that it looked too steep for little boys and that they didn't have time to do everything there was to do anyway. He took offense at the idea that he was a little boy and reminded her that 'Mr. Rangerbell' had called him the man of the family.
"His name is Mr. Bell," corrected Aggie. "He is a forest ranger named Max Bell."
"I like him," chimed in Allison. "He was so nice to stay with us when we were scared."
"I liked it when he let me ride on his shoulders when we went up to that spring thing," commented Jeffy. "I could see everything from that high up."
"Yes, it was nice to meet him," agreed Willy, but told them, "We probably won't see him anymore, though. He has to work and we'll only be here one more day."
"But I like it here," said Allison. "I would like to live here all the time. There is so much to see and do."
"There is a lot to see and do because we've never seen it before," commented her mother. "It would get old and boring if we lived here all the time."
"Mr. Bell lives here all the time and he isn't bored," said Aggie.
"That's because he was born here. You never get tired of the place you were born," observed Willy.
They saw ahead the blackened and burned mountain. A sign pointed to a road into the canyon by the burned area. "'Dry Creek Canyon' it says. Let's explore up this road a little way," said Willy. "I want to see if the back of the mountain is burned, too."
She drove carefully around the tight curves and bends in the narrow dirt road. They saw that part of the burned area did indeed continue over the top of the mountain and down the back side. Right at the base of the hill was a house and some outbuildings. The blackened vegetation reached within a short distance of the house. It looked like a bulldozer had dug a shallow trench above the yard to protect the home from the fire.
"I think I'll stop and ask the people in that house what happened here," decided Willy. "I hope they are more friendly than that man by the sulfur springs."
She snapped a few pictures then left the kids in the truck and went to knock tentatively on the door of the house. An elderly woman answered and listened to Willy's explanation and questions about the fire. The woman was very happy to tell all she knew. She invited Willy to bring the children out so they could play in the yard then settled herself and Willy down in a long split log swing hanging on the porch. The woman went into great detail about the cause, excitement and repercussions of the forest fire.
"The fire was started by the Wylie boy down in Osmond," she began. "He was burning some dead bushes last year while he was out irrigating the east field and a wind came up. The fire got away from him and he tried to beat it out with his shovel and to stomp it out, but it burned too fast. He couldn't get the tractor started to go for help so he had to run a whole mile home to get to a telephone. I can just picture him thumping across the fields in those big irrigating boots! By that time, somebody had seen it from their house and called t
he fire department so they were on their way, but there wasn't much they could do. The fire had been blown up the mountain by the wind. Everything is always so dry that time of year."
Pausing for breath, she went on, "The Forest Service was informed because this is all forest land and they sent a crew out to try to stop the fire. The hill is so steep they had a hard time climbing it and finally one man who happened to be out working on his bulldozer saw what was happening. Well, he headed right up the canyon here and started scraping up a trench around our place since it was headed this way. He went on up the ravine there," she said, pointing, "and started up the back of the mountain. He made it to the top all right because the back side here isn't as steep as the front."
By this time, Aggie and the children had drawn closer to hear what she was saying. Her gestures and the expression on her face intrigued them and they didn't want to miss anything.
"Are these all your kids?" the woman wanted to know.
"Yes, this is Allison and Jeffy and this is my sister Aggie. I am Willy Milton from Washington. I'm doing research on Star Valley so I try to find out anything interesting that I can tell about for an article I will write."
"What cute little ones," cooed the woman. "I just baked some cookies if it's all right for them to have some. Will you come in?" The natural hospitality of these friendly folks surfaced and she shepherded them all into her tiny living room. She brought them a plate of delicious cookies and glasses of milk. "Fresh this morning from my cow, Bessy," she told them.
Meanwhile, the woman's husband had noticed the strange vehicle parked out front and had left his chores in the barn to come and see who was visiting. Living in the canyon as they did, they didn't get too many visitors. He cleaned up a little in the kitchen, but still brought the odor of animals and farmwork with him as he entered the room.
He was as friendly and talkative as his wife. They repeatedly interrupted each other and finished each other's sentences as they told the rest of the story.
It seems that the bulldozer operator had paused at the top of the mountain, not intending to continue down its steep face. He saw that the efforts of the men on foot were not helping and could tell that the wind had picked up considerably. He figured that if the spread of the blaze was to be contained, he would have to do it with his bulldozer.
The elderly couple couldn't say enough in the praise of this man who risked so much to put out the fire. He had taken his life in his hands and steered his vehicle straight down the steep mountain. At one point, the fire was getting close to the path he was making and a gust of wind had carried burning material right on top of him. He had jumped from the dozer and ducked down close to its track to protect himself. The seat had caught fire so he threw handfuls of loose dirt on it to put it out. It was too hot to sit on after that, but he still managed to drive the machine standing up the rest of the way down the steep incline. When he reached the creek at the bottom, he was greeted by the farmer and his family and a few firemen who had contained the spread of the fire at the base of the mountain. All had watched his precarious descent down the mountain, holding their breath at his danger. They had sprayed the bulldozer to cool it off and it had sputtered and steamed for a long time, it was so hot. The man was regarded as a hero even though he didn’t realize how great his bravery was until he received the accolades of everyone.
"Somebody asked him why he had risked his life and his own equipment and he just said it looked like somebody needed to do something and he had just done what he could," the old man told them. "He sure earned a lot of respect that day."
"Wow!" said Jeffy, his eyes big and fascinated. "I wish I could drive a dullbozer."
"Bulldozer!" corrected Aggie, laughing.
"Anyway," continued the woman, patting Jeffy's head, "that was the end of the fire. All the people went home. There were twenty or thirty forest people there and they all have to be paid for their time. It was going to cost that family a pretty penny to pay all their wages, but do you know what happened? That head ranger, Max Bell, tore up his time ticket in front of everyone and went home. All the rest of the men did the same. It was real nice of them. The Wylie's aren't rich folks and there were a lot of teary eyes that day, I'll tell you."
"What a beautiful story," commented Willy. "The people in this valley are so nice and friendly. They show a lot of neighborliness that you sure don't find much in a big city."
"You bet!" agreed the man. "We all have to watch out for each other in a small town. We're pretty close-knit and one man's problem is everyone's problem. There aren't too many things that can't be worked out together."
Willy rose and prepared to leave. "Thank you so much for the cookies and milk and information," she told them. "I intend to tell about this incident in my article, if you don't mind. Can I use your names and the pictures I’ve taken?"
"Of course, of course," they assured her, pleased that she thought enough of their narration to include it in her writing. “We’ll look forward to seeing the magazine when it comes out.” Willy took their name and address and promised to send them a copy when it was printed.
Willy and her family climbed back into the truck and continued for a short distance up the canyon. The scenery here was beautiful. The smell of the breeze wafting over the pine trees and flowers filled them with pleasure.
They stopped to look over a pretty meadow and get the full benefit of the fragrance around them. Allison caught sight of some wild raspberries by the side of the road and asked to get out and pick them. She drew in a great breath of the sweet aroma and let out a long sigh. "It's so pretty here. I just love it!"
"Why can't we camp up here on our last night in Star Valley?" asked Jeffy.
"Because there aren't any rest rooms and girls don't like to water bushes," said Willy, acidly. She was remembering her last encounter with undergrowth in the dark and the painful itching that had resulted. She still suffered a twinge of embarrassment every time she recalled her chagrin at having to ask Max for help. She cringed when she remembered his laughter at her predicament. At least he had had the decency to refrain from mentioning it again.
These unbidden memories opened up the storehouse of emotions she had been valiantly trying to suppress. Telling the others that she was going to take a little walk across the meadow, she turned and gave herself up to a moment of longing. How could these feelings have developed in such a short time? She had known Max less than a week. Normal people didn't fall in love so fast. Besides, she didn't know a thing about him. Except that he was helpful and friendly and courteous and kind. "It sounds like he’s a Boy Scout!" Willy told herself.
What a sensitive and thoughtful gesture it had been for Max to lead his men in tearing up his time card so that the unfortunate family who were responsible for the forest fire wouldn't have such a financial burden. It just added one more reason to love this big, dark, handsome fellow.
"Wake up, Willy!" she told herself. "It looks like he's already spoken for so keep your silly thoughts to yourself. And you have that promise to Ryan to keep."
As she returned to the truck, she heard the kids laughing at something that was happening across the meadow. There was an old cabin nestled at the base of a wooded hill and as she watched, a deer, chased by a dog came running around the corner of the cabin. Right behind the dog chugged a stout woman yelling and waving a dishtowel. A man in what looked like red underwear topped with denim overalls stood in the doorway hollering at the procession and gesturing wildly. Willy couldn’t hear their words, but enjoyed the spectacle. “Look at that,” she laughed. “I wonder who will catch whom first!”
“That’s the third time they’ve been around the house,” giggled Aggie. “I can’t understand why the deer doesn’t just run up the mountain. Why does it keep going around and around the house?”
Just as she spoke, the deer took her advice and bolted straight up into the trees above the cabin. The dog kept chasing after the deer but the woman stopped and after a few more
waves went inside the house.
They all got a good chuckle as they climbed back in the truck and headed home. They wondered at the pioneer spirit of these rural folks who would choose to live so far up a canyon in what looked like pretty primitive conditions.