July 13, 2009: Rain...and rest

The July 11-12 weekend has to be the most hectic and overbooked of the entire summer. Like folks all over the country, Don and I each had about six different events or activities from which to choose.

"Haying" won out for him, by necessity. Our friends, the Bergers, finally got their hay cut and baled in between threats of thunderstorms. Sunday was the big day and small window to get the bales out of the field and safely stored for winter. Thanks to a group effort of Bergers, Don, and John Webb (ironically, all three families migrated here from central Washington!) the hay is now distributed among us and stashed. Don and I have about nine tons of brome in the barn--more than plenty for our three horses, even if we didn't have pasture too.

Meanwhile, I was in Missoula competing in the 3rd Annual Missoula Marathon with about 2300 other folks. I only did the HALF-marathon (a mere 13.1 miles). We crossed the start line at 6 a.m. I finished with a time of 3 hours 24 minutes. I walked the whole way. It was long and boring, but I finished pain-free. Will I do it again next year? Nope, that sport is not for me. But at least I have a marathon t-shirt now, and a medal for finishing the Half!

So this morning we woke to rain, and a day of rest. The hay and half-marathon ordeals are behind us. Now Don will start on the firewood supply for winter...and I'm going riding and kayaking!

Still doing what comes naturally

Some things don't change...nor should they.

Don's still sharing his shooting expertise, and I'm still training dogs.

When I took the photos of Don helping our young friends Samantha, Cody and their mom Chris on our backyard range, it was like lapsing right back into my Army public affairs officer role. Get that shot...the classic experienced shooter coaching "juniors." Now get one of them looking at the target...

Don's also become an integral member of the Rocky Mountain Rangers, the local SASS bunch. This is a really great bunch of people!

Meanwhile, I've inevitably become the "dog lady" in the area. In the past year we've formed the area's first agility club, which now boasts about 25 active members. Classes are held here at Shorthorse in the summer and at a local indoor arena during the winter. www.huckleberryhoundsagility.com.

Lizzie and I have also re-entered the realm of obedience competition. She earned her "Companion Dog" obedience title in June in Missoula, as well as a "Rally Novice" title. Her scores were good enough to garner several blue ribbons. A lot of folks at the dog show were surprised by the little unknown pit bull from backwater country!

A new horse hurdle

When I watched my first Trail Course Challenge at the local arena last fall, I thought, "Hmm, I wonder if I could do that stuff with my horses." It's an obstacle course for horses and riders. You have about 17 obstacles on this large outdoor course, and you're scored on your performance of each one.

Brimir (the Icelandic/The "Shorthorse") and I went up to the stable a couple times last week and practiced on some of the obstacles that were permanently placed on the course...a hanging mailbox, some huge, steep steps, a couple logs that required jumping, a horse teeter totter, and other semi-scary stuff. We did pretty well on everything, so we entered today's competition, paid our $30, and waited our turn to play.

We did very well...so well, in fact, that we took FIRST PLACE in the novice division, and got half our entry money back! I was the only one there wearing riding tights and helmet, and riding a fat little "pony" with an Aussie saddle. (This is quarterhorse country!) But Brimir wasn't self conscious. Not even when everyone wanted to try him out after our run. Too bad I didn't have a few Icelandics to sell out of the back of the trailer. I could have made a fortune!

Farewell to the last Swissy

Top center: Kosmo Alpert Manning.
Group shot: Grasel, Atlas, Lizzie & Kosmo in Yakima.
Bottom: Paigey.

We lost our old friend Kosmo yesterday. He was nearly 13 years old and had far exceeded his life expectancy (10 years for a Greater Swiss Mountain Dog). Kosmo hadn't eaten in three days, his breath was uremic, and his system was shutting down. The vet convinced us we would not want to prolong his suffering, so we decided to have her euthanize him. He is now buried between the barn and the house, in a beautiful spot where he loved to spend time.

Kosmo is the last of five Swissies we've known and loved over the past 13 years. We started with Grasel in 1996. She was Don's special buddy. We acquired her full brother and littermate, Atlas, about a year later. He was my special boy. Soon after, we met Gatsby and Kosmo, who eventually both came to live with us. In between was Paige, who was given to us by a local breeder because she didn't turn out to be show-quality.

At one point we had all five Swissies PLUS Teddy the legendary Rottweiler, all living in our small house in Yakima. We couldn't move around the house without stepping over or bumping into big dogs. It was crazy, but great.

The worst thing about dogs, of course, is that none of them last long enough. Teddy, age nine, died in 2002 of stomach cancer. Gatsby, age eight, died later that summer of spinal cancer. We lost Paigey, age seven, to a brain tumor in 2004. Grasel, age 10, left us in 2007. Atlas, age 11, died in 2008.

It's been 13 years of dog hair and loud barking, but that was outweighed by the unconditional love, loyalty, goofiness, and joy they brought to our lives. Our Greater Swiss Mountain Dogs lived wonderful lives, whether competing in agility and obedience, or just running wild until their tongues were dragging. They were all house dogs, and the only reason we didn't have five on the bed at one time was because they just plain didn't fit. We will miss their devotion and playfulness. We will miss running our hands through their thick, soft hair that always smelled "like a plush toy that's been sitting in a sunny window," as Don put it.

Our next dog will probably be a pointing Lab, so Don can finally have his hunting dog. And who knows, there may be a Swissy in our future some day too. Four of our five Swissies just landed in our laps, and it's possible there will be another coming our way. We're ready, just in case. We're well trained.

Don the Horseman

The horse Don bought for himself back in February turned out to be a bit more attitudinal than we thought. This is NOT the easy-going little plug he appeared to be when we test-rode him. He's a lean, mean, roping machine. He wants to go fast; he wants to chase cows.

We had some "rodeos" with him after he'd been here a couple months. Even before that, Don had decided to take some lessons at the local arena...but with Jake's attitude problems, it was imperative.

A young cowgirl/horse trainer named Maggie has been working with Jake AND Don at the arena, and the transformation is utterly amazing. Don's learning how to control (and calm) a hot horse. I'll admit that Jake's got my number and he knows it...so I'm keeping my hands off him from now on. But Don has what it takes to make him behave, and Jake is accepting that.

In a way it's good that Jake is Don's first horse, because Don is having to learn MUCH more about these critters than he otherwise might if he'd gotten an old plug. And that will make him a safer rider, whether it's on Jake or another horse in his future.

Sanders County Sippers

We're organizing a small tasting group that will meet every other month at our house, in the "Monti's Room." It's unofficially called the Sanders County Sippers. We're hoping to get about 18 people together for bi-monthly evenings of education and tasting, with a different form of adult beverage featured each time.

Here's the line-up for the coming year. If you're planning a trip to see us, keep this in mind and we'll be glad to have you join us. Or, if you like single malt Scotch, plan to visit in September!

Thursday, May 21: Ales and microbrews of the Northwest.
Thursday, July 16: Tequila
Thursday, September 17: Single Malt Scotch
Thursday, November 19: Brandy and Cognac
Thursday, December 10: Irish Creams and other Liqueors
Thursday, January 21: Canadian Blends
Thursday, March 18: Irish Whiskey
Thursday, May 20, 2010: Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whiskey

At each tasting, we'll sample at least four different brands or types. We'll also serve food that complements the alcohol...like Stilton cheese with the ales, and mini elk burgers with the Canadian Blends, and barbecue with the Bourbon whiskey.

Sound like fun? Join us!

Late Winter Report

March 1 marked our one-year anniversary IN THE HOUSE. It's still hard to believe it's all done and we're living here!

One of Don's winter projects: wade through Ayn Rand's "Atlas Shrugged." Dave Miller in Yakima gave us the book as a going-away present. It's a heavy but powerful message for our day and our country.

I'm doing dog stuff two nights a week. Tuesday night is our agility club night (we've developed eight very active members over the past year) at the local riding arena. Wednesday nights I do a "doggy boot camp," a four-week class similar to my "Leadership Classes" back in Yakima. Major difference: I charge little or nothing for the classes. Much more fun that way!!

Don enjoys perusing "Craig's List" quite regularly. He found his horse that way. Now he's looking for a fishing boat. He's also scouting for a two-horse trailer and whatever other little surprises may call our names.

He enjoys working in his shop, and reloading ammo in the basement for the upcoming cowboy action shooting season.

We recently upgraded to high-speed internet, so we can listen to radio stations all over the world now. We finally get Rush again, and Mariners baseball, and I love listening to the folk music station in Antarctica (!) at night when I'm working on the computer!!

We don't have TV reception yet and don't really want it. So we watch Netflix movies a couple times a week. We started "Grey's Anatomy" a few months back on Netflix and are now into Season Four. Who'd have thought we'd be watching soaps together at night in our retirement years!!

The reservation book is open again. We're expecting Dusty Rosenthal in the next week, and John Jay just about any day. Barb Madsen will be coming over from Yakima for spring break. Let us know when you'd like to come. Don and I will be going to Branson, Missouri, for the All Guard Shooting Team reunion in mid-April, but we'll be home at all other times.

A Horse for Don

Photo: Don walks his new horse, Jake, home after taking delivery yesterday at the top of the hill.

It was supposed to be a mule....but practicality came through, and Don decided his first equine should be a horse.

He wanted a horse for recreational riding and exploring the endless mountain trails around here. His friend John Webb lives across the river, and John and his wife (who used to live in Yakima, by the way) enjoy that type of riding. So Don decided it was high time he joined John on some rides this summer.

We've spent many nights this winter perusing "Craig's List." It's a buyer's market for horses right now, and there were dozens of good-sounding horses posted every week in northwestern Montana and the Spokane area. We even went to look at one of them in Bonner's Ferry. He was supposed to be real prize, but ended up more of a booby prize. (He liked to lie down in the snow when he had a rider on his back...and he didn't just do it to Don, he did it to me too!!)

Fortunately the internet led us to a local prospect. We found a nice gelding just a few miles down the road. The price was fair, considering this horse fit our specs. He's short (14.3 hands) so he's easy to mount, he's quiet, well trained, experienced in ranchwork and trails, and doesn't have any "attitude." IOW, he's a safe horse. Jake is 10 years old. He's a very plain little sorrel with a white star on his face and snip on his nose.

Weather's still a bit unfriendly, but as soon as we can dig the trailer out of the ice, Don's going to start trailering Jake up to the local arena (5 miles away) for some lessons.

We still have "my" two geldings--the Icelandic and the Tennessee Walker, both 22 years old. We said goodbye to Babe, the 34-year-old Appaloosa (and boss mare), a few days before Christmas. Her resting place is beside the pasture.

Jake arrived yesterday. The seller unloaded him at the top of our icy hill, and Don walked him the 3/4 mile home.

It's good to have three horses in our three-horse barn once again.

A Character Lesson from the Trees

A few days ago we woke up to eight inches of heavy new snow, on top of an existing five. Some of the younger, smaller trees were bent to the ground, weighted down with white stuff.

Don noted that the most vulnerable trees were the ones in the area he had just selectively cleared last fall. Trees of the same size in an area he'd cleared last spring were standing straight and tall.

Apparently these young trees needed some time to learn to stand by themselves and toughen up without the protection of the bigger trees around them.

With age and independence comes strength.

Happy Today and 2009!

A year ago on New Year's Eve, our neighbors Jim and Kathy Hill came over to celebrate with us. Our only lights were worklights on long extension cords, and the only heat was a large furnace the builders had in the living room. At evening's end (way before midnight) they went home and Don and I returned to the 5th-wheel trailer 50 yards away.

This year Don and I celebrated alone in a completed home that was warm and lit. We ate pheasant a la creme (he shot the pheasant last fall on a trip to Wolf Point) and drank a bottle of 1999 Dom Perignon given to us by a good friend in Yakima. The meal was one for the books!

Today we took down the tree and packed the Christmas decorations into the basement. It's been snowing for several days in a row, and it's gorgeous. Don's spending lots of time reading and seems to have developed a slight addiction to Craig's List.

What day is it anyway? Our pill containers say "Th" so I guess it is.

Well, whatever it is, Happy Today and Happy New Year!

All is calm, all is bright...

Merry Christmas from Don, Jan, Kosmo and Lizzie Manning

What we do for winter fun

Here we are enjoying our winter sports. As usual, Don works harder than he has to, so I'm obligated to work less.

Temperature at picture time: 5 degrees. Love it!!

How we've changed in the past year

My oh my, how our lives have changed in the past year! Some of you would never have believed it possible! Let's see, since our official arrival here on Dec. 1, 2007, here's how we have morphed:

1. We get at least 8 hours of sleep every night. On these very dark mornings when it doesn't get light till 8am, we've been known to stay in bed (on occasion) until close to 9am. Instead of waking up to KIT news at 6am, we wake up when we hear Kosmo jingle his tags downstairs. He's becoming a late sleeper too.

2. Don lost 25 pounds by working hard and by not being around KFC and doughnuts all day. He's expecting to gain some back this winter, as the hardest physical work is over the for season. But the closest KFC is 100 miles away, so he won't gain back very much.

3. We eat dinner at 6 or 7pm (instead of 10pm), and then we read, compute or watch DVDs, just like "normal" people.

4. We're wearing out clothes--t-shirts, jeans, sweats. Actually, you fit in better going to the grocery store here if you have a few holes in your clothes.

5. We drive dirty trucks. No sense washing 'em when they get dirty the first time down the road.

6. Don reads the Missoulian cover to cover every day in the living room, with his feet up, while drinking his coffee and waiting for me to fix his breakfast.

7. We entertain almost every week. We've had more dinner guests and parties in the past nine months than we had in the entire 20+ years we lived in Yakima. We now have time for a social life.

8. I've discovered the "joy of cooking." At last I have the time, the facility, the tools, and the patience. What a difference it makes having a functional, well designed kitchen!

9. Sometimes we don't talk to anyone else for several days in a row. We only "go to town" (16 miles) when we have to. We go to Costco in Missoula about once a month. That's a major ordeal.

10. Don shaves every two or three days.

11. We let our dogs run loose on our unfenced property. (Yes, of course they stay close and/or come back when called.)

12. I can ride my horses every day if I want to (and usually do in the summer and fall).

13. We both smile more. We're relaxed, happy, and appreciative (even incredulous) of what we have and where we are.

And then, some things don't change....nor should they....

1. Don's getting a reputation, slowly but steadily, as the "go-to" guy for gunsmithing.

2. I'm back into dog training on a volunteer basis.

3. We got involved with the local "Friends of NRA" dinner last October and sold lots of tickets.

Photos:

1. Our friend Dave Oliver on the kiva hearth, telling Don a new Ole & Lena yoke.

2. Me, readying for a chilly November kayak launch.

First Thanksgiving at Shorthorse

Just picture it: good friends gathered at the mountain ranch, frost on the ground, broken clouds and sun, deer in the yard, horse-and-buggy rides, fires in the fireplaces, and a turkey in the oven. On our first Thanksgiving at Shorthorse, we were blessed to have good people here to make memories, help prepare, and share one of the best turkey dinners we've ever had.

Our good friends Will and Teresa Bron came from Granger, Wash., along with Teresa's utterly charming 23-year-old son Nick who's going to school at WSU. Already here was Maurice, who arrived on Nov. 26 and has been treating us to gastronomic delights he's cooked up for breakfast and dinner almost every night.

The Brons have Friesian horses and are big enthusiasts of driving. So while they were here, Will and Teresa hitched up our little Icelandic (the short horse of "Shorthorse") to a cart my sister in Yakima had entrusted to me. Brimir, the Icelandic, is now a certified "driving horse." He took to it in no time at all. Don and I both took turns driving him around the property and up and down the roads. At age 21, this little guy now has a new career awaiting him next spring...and maybe sooner, if we can find a sleigh for him to pull!

For dinner we pulled out all the stops. Teresa and I brined a turkey, then roasted it to perfection, thanks to an oven bag (my first time!) IT WAS PERFECT!!! That, along with all the other usual yummy once-a-year stuff, and we had a feast fit for Montanans. Joining the Brons and Mannings were our neighbors Jim and Cathy Hill, and Charlotte Beaudry/Lee Ziegler, our other Yakima refugee friends.

Now our company is almost gone. Maurice will leave tomorrow morning, and the house will be quiet and cavernous again. Time for Don and me to snuggle up with a winter's supply of books as the snow falls. And, coincidentally, the snow has just begun.

Jan's Birthday Triathlon

Many things to celebrate on Nov. 22, my 56th birthday. Here we are, living in heaven on earth, and in good health. So I wanted to commemorate it, big time.

Here's how it went:

8am: Hiked to the hilltop and did a one-mile run. Temperature 34 degrees. Did the run in UNDER 12 MINUTES (my best time in about 26 years). Note: This was the biggest accomplishment of the day. Six months ago I literally couldn't take two jogging steps, but I've worked on it all summer and fall. With four hip surgeries under my belt, I'm not really supposed to run at all, and will probably quit now. But WOW, I just had to do it one more time....just to know I could!!

10:30am: Five-mile paddle on the river Completed it in 1:45.

1:30pm: Ten miles on Bernie, my Tennessee Walking Horse. Completed it in 1:35.

END OF TRIATHLON!

Later that day....

6pm: A wine-tasting/birthday party with a menu to die for...deli fried chicken, Ruffles potato chips, and Costco birthday cake...and lots of wine, of course. On hand to share it: my good buddies Laurie Mosher and Charlie Reddick (from Yakima), Ron and Heidi Fortier (formerly of Yakima, now from LaConner, Wash. This was Heidi's birthday too!!), Dave and Deb Oliver, Charlotte Beaudry, John and Robin Webb, Art and Kathy Hassan, Jim and Kathy Hill, Maurice Alpert, and my kind and tolerant hubby Don.

There's no better place to turn 56 than here at Shorthorse with good health, junk food, and the company of best friends! Carpe diem!

Defensible Space Project Completed!

The Department of Fish, Wildlife and Parks has a program that encourages homeowners to clear away excess combustible material from their rural homes in order to establish a defensible space in the event of wildfire. They reimburse the homeowners for doing it, and, in a triage situation, firefighters will respond to a defensible home before they'll respond to one that is not. So it's a no-brainer good program.

We signed up for the program last spring. Since then, Don has been slaving away at tree-slaying on about six acres surrounding the house. It's partly how he's lost 25 pounds. He's taken out literally thousands of trees by chain saw, tractor, and axe.

The problem was how to dispose of all this material once it was on the ground. He hauled much of it into huge burn piles, which are now reduced to ashes (except for some large stumps that will smolder for months). He also hired a man with a large chipper that sucks in good-sized trees as if they're strings of spaghetti. The chips (about eight dumptruck loads of fragrant fir and pine) are now in the riding arena, waiting to be spread.

This has been a huge task for Don, but the results are unbelievable. Our view of the mountains is greatly enhanced, and we have this feeling of even more spaciousness around a house that used to be surrounded by dense trees. We also gained lots of firewood for this year and next.

"Our friend Maurice"

Over the years you may have heard Don and me refer in conversations to "our friend Maurice." This usually leads to a brief, barely plausible story of a truly incredible man we got to know a few years back through our Greater Swiss Mountain Dog connections.

Maurice has become a cherished member of our extended family. Relationships with "dog people" often evolve that way. Dogs are a common denominator among people who are otherwise very different. They're also a great equalizer because, like kids, all "dog parents" can relate to each other's dog experiences.

In 1997 I hosted a training seminar in Yakima for Greater Swiss Mountain Dogs in the northwest. Two of the attendees were Maurice and Ann Alpert who came over from Big Sky, Montana, with two out-of-control Swissies, Gatsby and Kosmo.

After that, we maintained contact with them. The Alperts liked to travel, and started bringing their boys to "board" with us in Yakima when they were on their extended trips. The boys spent a lot of time with us over the next few years. When Maurice and Ann's lifestyles started changing, they went separate ways and wanted to permanently re-home Gatsby and Kosmo with us. Gatsby died of spinal cancer at age eight, and Kosmo, now 12 years old, is our last remaining Swissy.

Maurice has made several visits to Shorthorse this past year, and we love having him here in our family. He's a gracious "guest" who loves meeting new people and sharing fellowship over food. Maurice does most of the cooking when he's here. It's his passion. Last time he was here, he made a seafood stew that was to die for. We also enjoyed a "Latvian peasant soup" that cooked for three days before we ate it. His idea of the perfect evening: good, wholesome food shared with congenial people, followed by a DVD on the wide-screen.

How did he learn to cook? He simply hung out in the kitchens of some of the world's top chefs. You see, Maurice is a self-made man who made it to the top in the business world. The very top. He's met and worked with several Presidents, various heads of state from foreign companies, and CEOs of the world's largest corporations. He's partied with many a Hollywood celebrity. He's an adventurer, who's hiked the Amazon jungles, sailed the Caribbean, and traversed the Australian outback, and even tried a humble life in Latvia.

Heard of The Omni in Atlanta? Maurice and his partners developed it. He's built hotels around the world, theme parks along the east coast, and downtown renewal projects all over the country.

He is a man with many, many stories to tell, and yet he tells them humbly, almost apologetically. See, he didn't like the view from the top. About 10 years ago he decided to make his way down, in search of something deeper and more fulfilling than fortune. He's finding it, and one of his favorite places to enjoy it is here at Shorthorse.

A wicked man

"I must be very wicked," Don said with a twinkle in his eye, as he put his empty Coke can on a stump and headed back to his tree-clearing project.

"Why do you say that?" I asked, playing dumb.

"You know what they say....'There's no rest for the wicked.'"

Don hasn't had much time to fish, hunt or even hike this year. Not yet. He's too busy trying to complete his projects before the snow flies.

He's selectively clearing a 200-foot radius around our house, to qualify for the "Defensible Space" rebate offered by the Dept. of Agriculture as part of its rural fire prevention strategy. That must be completed by Dec. 1. He's pushed out hundreds, maybe even thousands, of trees, leaving the nice big ones and a good selection of young ones at least 10 feet apart. Our "yard" and our view expands every day! It looks like a state park. Later this week, a guy with a mega-chipper is coming out to chip everything that Don's laid on the ground.

Don's also completing work on the barn and stalls. He has one stall (of three) left to line with wood, a couple of gates to hang, and a couple automatic waterers to hook up, and that will be done.

Last month he finished building a 12x16 woodshed that looks nice enough to be a guest cabin. And, of course, he had to fill that with firewood which he's cut around the property.

He also had to get his gunshop up and running. It's beautiful, well lit, and very functional...ironically, nicer than the one he had in Yakima for 30 years!

He did take a few days last week to go pheasant hunting in eastern Montana with Dusty Rosenthal, Mike Schell, Bob Graff, and some other friends from Yakima. And he did go fishing for half a day last summer. Deer and elk season starts this weekend, so he has to be "extra wicked" now to get his work done before that!

Ladies' Luncheon, Montana Style

The first Wednesday of each month, about 15 of us women from the Trout Creek area get together for lunch at one of the two local taverns. We alternate between the Wayside and the Naughty Pine Saloon. The hardest beverage ordered is iced tea, and the typical lunch fare runs from chili dogs to taco salads.

My neighbor Kathy Hill, a like-minded conservative woman, invited me to join the group, which has been meeting for several years. "Members" come and go with the seasons, but a core group is always there, since it's an important chance for "female bonding" in an isolated mountain area where the air is always heavy with testosterone.

Most of our lunch bunch ladies are retired, although Maureen, the Trout Creek postmistress, does lock up the post office for 90 minutes so she can join us. Like so many people in this area, most of these women are "from somewhere else" and have lived in the area for only a few years. A disproportionate number are from western Washington. It's easy to understand why they'd escape from the I-5 corridor to a place like this if they're conservatives!

These are educated, savvy, strong, independent women. They cherish the special way of life here, just as much as their husbands do. They pinch pennies. Nobody's ashamed to ask, "What does your hairdresser charge?" or "Where's gas the cheapest today?" They're unpretentious; dressing up for lunch means putting on a new sweatshirt.

Luncheon conversation often revolves around food and recipes...how to cook bear meat, how to field dress an antelope so it doesn't smell up your kitchen later. We also discuss home and garden topics...what to do about all the stinkbugs, and how to get rid of carpenter ants and yellowjackets. And we'll touch on fashion and personal appearance...how Faith found this great Coldwater Creek fleece top at the consignment shop for $7, the practicality of Sharon's great new haircut, or the fact that losing weight causes facial wrinkles so it's better to stay chubby.

Among our group we have women who styled hair for Hollywood celebrities, a woman who lived on a sailboat with her husband for two years, women who work in the local taxidermy shop, and a myriad of other fascinating personal stories. Many of them now share common bonds in quilting and craft work. All of them share something else, however, the first Wednesday of each month. They share the Good Life here.

Another Dream Come True

Ian Tyson is a legend in the music business. He was a rodeo cowboy and logger from B.C., who got famous in the '60s as a Canadian folk singer and songwriter. He paired up with a Toronto singer named Sylvia Fricker, and "Ian and Sylvia" became megastars in Canada and the U.S. The two of them split in the mid-'70s; the folk music era had died. Ian retreated alone to his home territory in the western provinces. He went back to his previous life as a rodeo cowboy and rancher, and began penning cowboy ballads.

I was introduced to Tyson's music in the late '70s during my seven-year stint as an entertainment journalist in Nashville. I interviewed hundreds of country music celebrities--even Roy Rogers--but the elusive Ian Tyson was one I'd never met. He'd attained almost mythical status to me, this rich-toned balladeer who'd chucked the bright lights and fast life to return to what he really loved: working his own ranch on the edge of the mountains in Alberta.

Yesterday Ian Tyson ate lunch in the "Monti's Room" with Don and me. He was in Thompson to do a benefit concert for the high school. He and his two backup guys were returning from the Pendleton Roundup, and they were headed back to Alberta. I made arrangements to interview him for a speculative piece for a magazine. He agreed, so I picked him up yesterday morning and brought him to Shorthorse for lunch and a chat.

For reasons so deep and complex that I can't express them to many, this was bigger than Roy Rogers for me. Ian Tyson. Eating beef barley soup and sourdough bread with Don and me. Later we strolled out to look at the horses, and then went back inside for an informal visit. This is the type of interview I'd learned to do, and done so many times, under the tutelage of my old Music City News editor, Lee Rector. Lee's in Reno now. He wanted like everything to come up to meet Ian himself, but was tied up. He said he'd be here with us in spirit, and I know he was. Lee's a songwriter too. We spent many a long night in his Nashville kitchen, along with a myriad of drop-in talented musicians and songwriters (they were just "neighbors" then), picking and singing Tyson songs and swilling down beer and cheap wine. "Four Strong Winds," "Summer Wages," "Someday Soon" were always on the nightly playlist.

Aside from the fact that he's still alive, time hasn't otherwise been kind to Tyson's looks or his voice. He'll be 75 next week. He looks like a bony, gnarled up old bareback rider (which he is) who's tipped a few too many bottles of whiskey out behind the chutes. His voice is all but gone. That part made me want to cry at his concert last night. It was painful listening to him. But, as Lee reminded me in an email this morning, we'll always have Tyson's strong, clear baritone voice in our audio files.

Ian played my guitar yesterday in our living room. It's a Martin D-28 that I bought new in Nashville in 1980. I bought it because I could afford it at the time, and because it was a connection with Ian Tyson's acoustic music. A couple days ago when I was tuning it in prep for this interview, I broke a string. It's hard to find a good guitar string in Sanders County, Montana, on a Saturday afternoon. But I got a light-gauge string from our friend Dave Oliver who left it on his kitchen table for me to pick up Sunday morning, since he and wife Deb were going to Missoula that day. It was a totally inappropriate string for my guitar, but it was better than nothing. I offered a lame apology to Ian when he strummed it.

When I brought him back to his motel room after lunch, he told me to wait a minute. He dashed into his room, came back out, and handed me a set of professional quality D'Addario wound steel guitar strings.

How ironic that I had to come this far in my life, to this little place called Thompson Falls, to realize a huge dream. Shorthorse itself is a dream come true...and now this. I-God, Woodrow!!