The Ancestral Pen

  How Gary McAllister saved Pack Saddle by returning to his father’s “obsolete” pack trains There’s an irony at the heart of 1920s Idaho: the world kept telling people the pack train was dead while the mountains kept needing one. Trucks, rail, and roadbuilding pushed progress into valley towns, but steep passes, dense timber, and snow-choked trails didn’t read the newspapers. Where roads failed, pack strings still worked.  Idaho State Historical Society+1 The practical truth By the mid-1920s, the headlines hailed motor freight and paved highways. In practice, however, steep canyons, high ridges, and foot trails left whole pockets of North Idaho beyond the reach of wheels. Mines, logging camps, isolated lodges, and Forest Service lookouts still relied on packers to move everything from flour and nails to stoves and radios. The pack train wasn’t nostalgia — it was logistics.  NPS History+1 Why pack trains still mattered • Terrain: Some trails climbed where trucks couldn’t g...

  Step into the world of Pack Saddle Ranch, where clearing land could cost you everything The first thing you need to understand about northern Idaho in 1927 is this:  the land didn't want you there. Not in a mystical sense—though the old-timers might argue otherwise after too much whiskey. No, the land resisted in a far more practical way. After the great lumber companies swept through like locusts, harvesting centuries-old pines and leaving behind a moonscape of stumps, the real work began. Welcome to stump ranch country. What Was a Stump Ranch? Picture this: You've just bought "cleared" timberland at a bargain price. The lumber company took the trees—those magnificent western white pines and Douglas firs that once towered 150 feet high. What they left behind were stumps. Hundreds of them. Some ten feet across, roots running twenty feet deep, refusing to surrender even in death. Your new "farm" looks like a graveyard of wooden tombstones. This was the real...

  Book Release 👉  Get your copy on Kindle today! And if you enjoy it, leaving a quick review on Amazon helps more readers discover the series than you can imagine. 💛 Thank you for being part of this journey — from my research notes to your Kindle screen. I'm still finalizing the paperback cover, but the paperback should be available soon for those of you who prefer a physical book in your hands. The next story (Alfred’s!) is already taking shape, and I can’t wait to share what’s next at Pack Saddle Ranch. Warmly, Amy Crooks Author of The Pack Saddle Ranch Series Button

  And no, I'm not talking about a ghost story or other forms of woo-woo. I'm writing this newsletter on my laptop while jars of applesauce, apple butter, and fermented apples cool on the counter. My daughter just came in from collecting eggs, warning me that Butt Head (yes, that's really his name) is being particularly aggressive today. In my upcoming novel,  The Rancher's Healing at Pack Saddle Ranch , there's a scene where Evelyn battles a vicious rooster with a broomstick. That scene came straight from my experience with Butt Head. We literally keep a stick by the coop door for exactly that purpose. This is why I write historical fiction. One Foot in the Past, One in the Future From age four to sixteen, my family belonged to an Old Fashion Pentecostal church in California—yes, that was literally its name. We dressed like we were from 1920, gardened, raised goats, rabbits, and chickens. But we weren't Amish. We had cars, a microwave, and here's what I'...

  Meet Evelyn Bennett. She's a city girl. A nurse. Completely out of her element on a rural Idaho ranch in the middle of nowhere. She was just doing her job—caring for a man foolish enough to blow himself up with dynamite. But to do that job properly, she needed to whip three bachelor brothers into shape and scrub their filthy house from top to bottom. Otherwise, the man she was charged with healing would never survive his own home, let alone his injuries. In this week's excerpt, Evelyn has been scrubbing for days. She's attacked ash and grime, fought off a vicious rooster, been kicked by a cow, and transformed that neglected house into something livable. She's finally hauling out the ash bucket, probably feeling pretty accomplished... And then the wind decides to remind her who's boss. Wind chose that moment to gust. Ash exploded back in her face, coating her dress, her hair, everything she'd just cleaned behind her. She stood frozen, arms still extended, looki...

  Banjo Roads and Dynamite Dreams: Inspiration in the Wild Last week, I shared that I was writing a new trilogy, Pack Saddle Ranch. This week I have exciting news! You can now grab your copy of  Until We Meet Again  (link below in Button), the prequel, to tide you over until I finish  Healing the Rancher's Heart . I'm close, so close. Today, I plan to complete the last chapter and then proceed directly to editing. If you've been with me through my last book series, you know this is the part I dread the most: editing. It's painful! I sit here agonizing over whether I've chosen the right word, if the message comes across clearly, or if this scene needs a little comedic break. The agony goes on. Please grab your copy of  Until We Meet Again , and I would greatly appreciate some feedback. Please let me know your thoughts on the short story. I'll have the first book ready for you next month. Speaking of next month, we have a baby shower planned, which reminds me that...