| But that's the beauty of life—it inspires. This next trilogy is wholly inspired by the area where I live and its history. It's gritty, heartbreaking, resilient, and inspiring. My husband and I enjoy taking drives through this beautiful landscape, like we did last weekend. In fact, that drive helped further inspire the book, and I almost forgot to share it with you. Last newsletter, I threw in a few photos of my husband and me with giant trees, but I didn't give any context. Let me fix that today. We took a drive over into Montana to the Cabinet Mountains. The Cabinet Mountain range sits east of Pack River, and on the Idaho side, it contains the Kaniksu National Forest. I love these areas—they're full of lovely waterfalls and beautiful forests. I'm the kind of person who loves being alone in the forest, listening to the sounds: the birds, the squirrels (yes, squirrels are noisy), the rustle of leaves, the occasional crack of a branch. It's all peaceful to me. Although I will admit that the one time I went huckleberry picking with my daughter south of here, near Fernan Lake, and heard a cougar scream nearby, it was the only time my hand has ever gone for my pistol, ready to use it. Fortunately, we heard the cougar's cries move farther away, and after my heartbeat returned to normal, we decided we had enough berries for that day. Yes, as beautiful as nature is, it can also be scary. But for me, I'm more at peace in nature than I am in the city, where people make me more nervous than wildlife does. Anyway, I got a little sidetracked there. My husband and I headed to Troy, Montana, last Saturday because he'd heard about an apple festival there. We thought it was for the whole weekend, but no—we missed it by a day. It was only on Friday. Who does that? Festivals on a Friday? People work, you know. We had also planned to visit the Ross Creek Cedars just east of Troy. It was so beautiful. This ancient grove of cedars is absolutely breathtaking. We saw many trees that have fallen over time, and given their size, I can only imagine the entire forest booms with the sound when they come down. About ten years ago, a group came in and installed gravel paths and bridges, allowing even those with mobility challenges to enjoy this amazing grove. However, if you're physically able and want to explore off-trail, there are also natural hiking trails available. By the time we got back to the car, I'd developed a blister on my foot because I'd worn the wrong shoes. I'd forgotten about the cedar grove until we were already in the car, headed there. But even with the blister, it was worth it. So, back to the book and how my trip ties in. As I write, I can vividly imagine the stump fields that once dominated this landscape. These books are set in the 1920s in north Idaho, where logging and mining were the industries of the day. What was left in their wake were stump fields and tailings. The tailings from mining have scarred the land, but the stump fields eventually—through blood, sweat, and tears—yielded to ranches and farms. Men came to this area hoping to farm and ranch, and in order to be successful, they had to clear the massive stumps left behind in the low-lying areas from clear-cut logging. Sadly, what was logged were giant, ancient trees. Imagine stumps the size of a truck—just look at the pictures of those cedars I shared. In those days, the stumps were often cleared with dynamite, which was an incredibly dangerous endeavor. Imagine a man at the turn of the century coming here from wherever, thinking that his best chance at making a life for his family was to risk his life clearing fields with dynamite in order to plant crops and make a living. What many eventually learned was that the growing season here is very short, and the only thing in this area that has ever proven consistently profitable is growing hay. Yes, we have a lot of hay fields, although today there are areas that have begun growing other crops. A lot of hops and soy are grown in the Bonners Ferry area. There's a beautiful valley up there that can grow great crops, but that's not the case for the majority of the region. The soil here is rocky and usually not very fertile—hence why I switched to raised beds in my garden so I can control the soil (and save my back). This trilogy is set in this area in the 1920s, so imagine Prohibition and the Roaring Twenties. But for this region, it was still extremely rural and a hardscrabble living in those days. Places like Coeur d'Alene and Sandpoint were considered major cities for their time, although in other states, they would likely have been regarded as still quite rural. In the 1920s, Sandpoint's population was around 2,876 and grew to about 3,290 by 1930. Coeur d'Alene was larger, with approximately 6,447 residents in 1920, increasing to about 8,297 by 1930. It was a regional hub, benefiting from the timber industry and transportation connections. Heck, even until this year, the road in front of our house was dirt. There are still many dirt roads up here. Just last weekend, my husband and I wanted to check out if there was anything left of Cabinet, Idaho—once a booming town along the Idaho and Montana border around the turn of the 20th century. We ended up on a dirt road and, based on my maps, went through to Clark Fork. At one point, the road narrowed so much it looked more like a wagon trail. My husband looked at me and said, "I think I hear banjos. Are you sure about this?" Some parts of this area are still very rural, which is what I love about where I live. | |
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