What makes Montana unique

We are getting ready to head to Montana to see our family and friends. A unique culture exists in Montana like none other. Here’s an example. Larry bought a kit at Cabellas for making his own beef jerky. He spent an afternoon making some pretty tasty jerky for our hikes. We eagerly looked forward to a family reunion. Our son, Aaron, rented a newly built rustic cabin tucked away in the woods and surrounded by rivers, hiking trails, and the Crazy mountain range beckoning us to adventure. The spacious Bennett Cabin outside of Clyde Park in Montana is a work of art. Its sturdy 80 year old logs are accented with green cedar shingles. It’s very reasonable to rent since it’s devoid of plumbing which means a 2 AM run to the outhouse.

Aaron and his wife Lynelle climbed out of their van with our three energetic grandsons August, Jasper, Isaac and their trusty chocolate lab, Gracie. Family fun would now begin. But it didn’t take long for Gracie to discover a strange substance she enjoyed chewing. She also rolled into some foul smelling pond and only a bath in the nearby stream could get rid of the stench.

We shared Larry’s delicious beef jerky with the family while hiking along the stream. But after a half hour or so we were stopped by fallen trees that were the result of a June tornado that swept through the area. That evening, we came across a visitors’ journal describing their time at the cabin. We were told to look for a fantastic view of the stars, a visiting owl, and an occasional bear sighting. But what caught our attention the most was an entry from the previous week. It went something like this.

Entry 7/8. We were sitting around enjoying coffee and conversation when a very polite forest service man informed us that our serene time was coming to an end. A downed tree caused by a tornado killed a cow and now they, meaning the forest service, were going to have to deal with it. Yes, they were waiting for an expert to arrive from Bozeman who would help them with the situation as a resident bear had discovered the beast which made it unsafe for cabin residents like us. More trucks began to arrive— some seven or eight of them donned with helmets and chain saws as they cut through the tree. They then covered our cabin windows with plywood and asked us to park the cars behind the cabin suggesting we take a hike. We went toward Target rock over fallen trees not knowing what to expect. Soon an explosion ripped across the mountain—-an earth shattering and auditory resound of military impact. What we were hearing was the sound of an exploding cow. An exploding cow! It took a legend to blow up one single cow. There was enough gusto to take down a herd of cows. Any resident bears must have fled completely out of the Crazies for good——with need of therapy. We went back to our cabin and were greeted by a considerate and good humored forest service employee informing us that the danger was now over. I felt it was my duty to walk to the gate where the deed was done to investigate. The dirt road was strewn with clumps of red meat the size of salmon servings and flies were swarming in mass. The smell was prehistoric. I was witness to something that looks simple, but is complex. Now little critters will nibble the bits. As for bears—the therapy continues.

You can almost touch the sky in Montana

Now we understood why Gracie was having such a feast. The mysterious substance was nothing other than—Montana beef jerky. Her last treat resembled a cow’s ear—Yuk! Coming from Illinois and chewing our own beef jerky, we knew we were witness to the aftershocks of an event done only Montana style.

I Know It’s Going to be a Good Day when we gather for book club

Our summer Wisconsin Get-away

Today we will gather at a home on the Fox River for light snacks and a discussion of our latest book by Mark Sullivan’s, Beneath A Scarlet Sky. Our favorite genre has been historical fiction, books about World War II. Considering that today, June 6th, is the anniversary of D-Day— it’s appropriate. One of our members recalls her German grandmother having two pictures on her dresser—-one a nephew in a German uniform and the other her son, in a US uniform. They looked so much alike, it was hard to distinguish them one from another.

A book club is a fascinating way to learn about your group and to share history with one another. We are tuned into one another’s lives throughout the month even though we only get together once a month. We even have a member over seas in Sydney, Australia who reads the same books we do and writes wonderful reviews.

Here is one she wrote for our book club today—straight from Sydney. Spoiler Alert.

Pino Lello, what an amazing man and what an amazing life. Being a huge Historical Fiction fan, I loved this book.

I kept having to remind myself Pino is still alive, while I sat clutching the book tightly, as Pino once again eluded death or capture.

Also, to my shame, I knew very little about this part of WW11, I knew Mussolini was a tyrant and he ended up being hung, I have seen those terrible photos.

But I was unaware of the dreadful toll put on the Italians by the Nazi’s and the fascist fighters.

While the writing of Mark Sullivan didn’t thrill me at times, I think he took poetic license to a new level at some points knowing the fact that Italian history is well documented.

I was so happy to read what had happened to the rest of Pino’s friends and family, at the end of the book, it was also a really good way to tie the book up in a neat fashion.

I was devastated when Anna was murdered and wonder what Pino’s later life would have been like if she had lived??? Did anyone else wonder about that? I feel he was so in love with her that he wasn’t ever going to get a love to match it. I found it interesting that so many of the other characters received awards after the war for the but not Pino.

The author, Mark Sullivan, is from Bozeman, Montana where my daughter lives and where my son used to live. He now lives in Livingston, on the other side of the mountain pass. But his art work is at the Montana Trails Gallery—www.aaronschuerr.com. I am hoping to meet the author while I’m visiting my children and grandchildren.