Chapter Six - Wells and Cows and Bears, Oh My!

That first summer, while Butch was doing what he calls 'dirt work', I stayed pretty busy driving back and forth between Potomac and Lolo, taking care of the house and the yard in Lolo, exploring our property and looking for antlers, and wondering when everything was going to finally be finished. The work seemed to be going so slow. Too slow for me.

Butch was using the tractor to dig out one of our hills, making a flat spot to build the barn. He was also developing the spring. We knew we had water but didn't know how much and didn't have it collected for our use. When he wasn't on the tractor or working on the spring, he'd spend time 'witching' for water. Being a life-long Baptist I prefered the term 'dowsing'. Anything having anything to do with anything witchy, I stayed away from. (Interestingly, when we'd have people up and ask if they wanted to learn to witch for water, a lot of them would shy away as if we'd asked them if they wanted to take part in an animal sacrifice ritual. So it wasn't just me who didn't understand the terms or how that whole thing worked.) I didn't know Butch knew how to do that and it kind of concerned me. I mean, was it weird? I studied up on the subject and learned that it's all about magnetism and is perfectly not weird.

What was weird is that after Butch taught me how to do it, and it was very very cool by the way, we were both 'hitting' on the exact same spots over and over again. I know there is absolutely no proof this works but we figured it couldn't hurt. We had decided to go ahead and have a well dug near the house. Even though we had a spring, it was a quarter of a mile away and we had to actually go get the water. There was no way we were going to be able to run the water from the spring to the house. It was too far and uphill all the way. It would take a LOT of work and expense. I pushed hard for a well and water running into the house all by itself. Hence the water witching, or dowsing, if you will.

The drillers needed water to be able to dig the well so that's one of the reasons Butch was working on getting our spring developed. This meant: digging an eight foot deep hole in the ground near where the water ran out of the mountain, sinking a huge plastic tank into said hole where the spring water ran gleefully into it and then out of it when it was full, where we could then suck it out when we needed it. This whole enterprise was done on the side of a steep hill. I don't really know how he accomplished this feat because the one time I went down there to watch and his tractor was tipping in a precarious angle, I left and never went back. Until it was done. He scared me to death sometimes. This man had no fear (or sense).

Once the tank was filled with water, we hired the well-diggers to come out and dig our well for us. Such an exciting day! They brought their big truck up, went and got a tank of water from our spring and then proceeded to dig a 320 foot dry hole that cost us ten thousand dollars. We told them to stop as we had no more money for a deeper dry hole. We have a ten thousand dollar useless hole in the ground. Now who else can say that? WHAT a disappointment! What a waste of money! There was water EVERY WHERE!! None of us could believe they didn't hit water, especially since we both witched there and 'hit' every time! We threw our witching sticks out and accepted the fact that we'd be hauling our water to the house for the foreseeable future. Bummer.  I was getting tired of Butch saying, "Well, part of it." and moving on to the next thing without the required angst and complaining and general gnashing of teeth that were par for the course for me. So..... we're not going to gripe and moan about this even a little bit? Huh. Well that's disappointing. Hmph. Ok, on to the next thing then. Grumble, grumble....

Butch then built a cute little springhouse over the water tank in the ground. We found out that first summer that we had free range cows all over the place who had appointed our spring as one of their favorite watering holes. We knew we didn't want to have to fish a dead cow out of that tank, so he built the springhouse. After we found two voles and one dead rat in the water, he then built a cute sturdy wood cover for the tank that mosquitos and Grand Daddy Long Legs just LOVE. This wood cover is heavy. I have often almost fallen into the water tank just trying to get this lid all the way off. I have often wondered if I'd be able to get myself out of the tank if I fell in. Thankfully I have not had the occasion to find out. And don't plan to. Brrrr!

Speaking of free range cows - this was new to us. We thought 'free range' was the old way but mais non! We did some asking around and found out that Montana is a 'fence out' state while Texas is a 'fence in' state. If we didn't want these cows in our yard or messing around our spring then we had to fence them out of our property. Considering we had 162 mountainous, rocky acres, fencing our place off wasn't going to happen. I guess it would be possible but it would cost an arm and a leg so... we learned to live with the range cows. We both like cows. It wasn't that big of a deal really, we just didn't want them messing around our water source and defiling it. So, Butch, ever the problem solver genius, put a trough in at the spring so that the overflow that ran out of the tank, went into this trough so the cows had a place to drink from which kept them from our water which was great. Problem solved. Our dogs kept them out of our yard. All I could think of when I saw their big cow patties was, "Oooohhhh, manure.... that will be gold for the garden I will put in." Plus, being sort of a farm girl at heart, I liked hearing them moo all summer. It's a comforting farm noise. It was good.

While all of this was going on, since I couldn't be of any use to Butch at all in these endeavors, I was getting to know our place. It was so beautiful up here! But kind of scary too. We had been told we had mountain lions and bears and to be careful. I had already had a run in with a mountain lion in Lolo which had scared the bejeebers out of me. Being from Houston, I was used to scary things - tornadoes, car jackings, muggings, snakes - but nothing that wanted to eat you. So to be watching for carnivorous animals was a new unwelcome experience for me. My first few forays away from where Butch was working weren't that far, maybe twenty feet? All of these big black stumps that were left over from logging, pretended to be big black bears and snickered when I would stand and watch them for movement. As time went on, and nothing happened, I got braver and braver, and went further and further out. There were antlers to find! Why finding antlers was so exciting to me at the time I can't figure out, but it was. I found a few small moose antlers and some deer antlers and one that Butch said was something called a 'jackalope'. Never heard of that one before. Haven't seen one either. Hmmm...... I think he might have been pulling my leg.

In the beginning when I was so frightened to go out by myself, and I was whining about it, Butch said, "Ok, let's talk about this so you can feel better." (What he actually said was, "Since you're being so ridiculous and wimpy, let's talk about this so I don't have to hear about it anymore." Tsk.) I think he thought he was trying to be helpful but he so wasn't. Here is the conversation that happend which I swear is true, word for word. His part is all twangy and irritated sounding:

Butch - "Ok first of all, if you see a bear or a mountain lion, don't panic."

Me - "Huh?"

Butch - "Second of all, if you see a mountain lion, make yourself look bigger."

Me - "Huh?"

Butch - "Third of all, if you see either one of these, don't run. He will then see you as something to chase and he won't be able to help chasing you. If I hear that you ran, I will shoot you myself."

Me - "HUH?"

Butch - "If you find that you do have to run from a bear, remember that you cannot outrun him. Even if he does weigh a ton, he can run fast. Also remember that bears don't run well downhill for some reason, so head pell mell downhill not bothering to look back or get up if you fall. Just keep rolling." (He actually didn't say 'Pell mell'. He said, 'Run like hell' but I didn't want to cuss. Potty mouth.)

Me - "Huh?"

Butch - "Do not shoot at them if they're not being a threat. They are innocent woodland creatures just out for a stroll. You are in their home. Just slowly back up. And NO SCREAMING, no running, no sudden movements. And the dogs will probably protect you and run them off anyway."

Me - "Snort!"

Butch - "Now if they do come after you, just shoot your gun in the air to try to scare them off. But remember that the bear that everyone has been seeing around here is believed to be deaf so that won't work. And remember the .38 you're carrying will just piss him off  anyway so I wouldn't shoot him. If you're carrying the bear spray you have to wait until he gets within 40 yards before you spray him. Make sure the wind is blowing in his direction."

Me - "Huh?"

Butch - "Last but not least, if all else fails, roll up into a little ball, covering your head with your arms and kiss your butt goodbye 'cause you're a goner! Haw!" (His annoying attempt at humor.)

Me - "Well. Huh."

After this so not helpful conversation, I decided to not worry about it. I realized that if I ever saw a mountain lion or bear charging me, I'd die of a heart attack on the spot anyway, so it wouldn't matter. Problem solved. This began many many happy hours of exploring in the woods, picking berries, finding treasures, praying, breathing deeply of warm pine needles and fresh air and taking walks in that peaceful, lovely, quiet place that became a sanctuary for me. I was the happiest and most at peace there. I realized I was home.

Chapter Five - Thought We Left the Rednecks Back in Texas

While we had been cleaning up the property the last two months, we met a few people - some lived here, some were sightseers. Apparently a LOT of people regularly came up here to look at the view, hunt and like I mentioned, have target practice. We thought this place was so beautiful that we wanted to share it with others. We decided to put a "Welcome All" sign up at the gate we were going to build so everyone could enjoy the gorgeous view. A regular open door policy. Come one, come all! Y'all are welcome!

We met a lot of nice people who came up on four wheelers and in cars and trucks, most of whom were surprised that we were the new owners, that people were going to actually live here. Some looked downright dismayed. "But we've always come up here!" or "We've been hunting here for years." They looked confused. Some of them pouted. Some seemed resentful even. Huh. This was unexpected. We told people they were welcome to come up and say hi and visit when they wanted to and some were glad, but some just left muttering as if they'd been told their business was no longer welcome here because they just weren't up to par. Or something. It was weird. We took away their favorite hunting and viewing and playing spot and they weren't happy about it. At all.

On the way up the ten miles to our place, there was a great-looking log cabin sitting nestled in the woods.  One day there was a man standing outside working on his truck. Butch pulls right up into his yard and parks. Which scared me. This was the mountains. Where scary mountain people live. Who chew tobacco and have long beards and look like Charles Manson. And sometimes kill a whole bunch of people. And they are always carrying guns. ALWAYS. I looked at Butch in great alarm and hissed, "WHAT are you DOING? That man is going to shoot us first and ask questions later. Please let's go." Butch just said, "Haw. You're funny." And got out of the car.

The man, who looked exactly like what I thought a true mountain man would look like, looked up from his truck but didn't even stand up or walk over or smile. He just did this steady gaze thing at Butch. Oh man, we are going to die here. This guy had a long grayish beard and he was big. He was wearing jeans and an old short-sleeved T-shirt (wasn't he cold? It was like 40 degrees outside!) and suspenders. I watched as Butch started to walk over and thought, "Hey maybe he won't shoot Butch if his little wife is right beside him.", so I bravely (uncharacteristly I might add) jumped out of the car and walked over to Butch who kept walking up to this scary mountain man.

Butch told him who we were and what land we just bought. To which this big guy says, still leaning over his truck, "Oh you're the ones who bought that piece of s--t land up there?" Ok, I've had enough. I'm ready to go and I start to pull on Butch's sleeve like a little kid. He ignored me and smiled real big and stuck out his hand in friendly Texas fashion. The man said his name was Tim (Tim? Really? Such a small guy name.) and that his wife was named Sue and they had been here for 13 years already, mostly all by themselves on this whole mountain that whole time. I didn't talk, kind of hid behind Butch I am ashamed to say. The more they talked though, the nicer and more normal this guy seemed. I sidled out from behind Butch an inch at a time and then Tim smiled at me and the name Mountain Father Christmas immediately sprang to mind with his red cheeks and sweet smile and crinkly eyes. Oh. This guy is just a big teddy bear. PHEW. We weren't going to die up here, not today anyway.

We met Sue his wife later when they came up to visit on their four wheeler. It was not a good day for us to meet anyone new.  It was in fact a very bad, horrible, no good, awful, terrible day. Remember I mentioned how Butch put that old miner's cabin back together all by himself? And how hard it was and how much work it took? Well, during the week when we had been back at our house in Lolo, some guys in two trucks had come up here and TRIED TO KNOCK THE CABIN OVER WITH THEIR MONSTER TRUCKS. It was all askew. The door wouldn't even close anymore. WHO DOES THINGS LIKE THAT? And WHY? We had already brought some things up to the property like tools and some wood - which they had stolen, along with our "Welcome All" sign. Humph. We were in shock. ALL the people we had met in Montana had been SO nice! After we got over the shock of this set back, I looked at Butch and said, "I really thought we had left all the rednecks back in Texas. I guess not." Butch said, "No they're everywhere. No big deal. At least they didn't mess with the tractor. Thank God." Ok his atttude was better than mine but I was so dismayed and sad and angry. This dream had been so nice and now I had to worry about bad people coming up here and doing stuff like this? Kind of put a bit of a damper on our excitement.

While we were sitting in what would be the front yard, trying to compose ourselves, and be all stoic and strong and tough, here come Tim and Sue on their four-wheeler. Needless to say I was NOT in the mood for guests. Let's just say that I didn't handle things like this very well back then. I let it ruin my whole day, probably my whole week. I was just so disappointed. And frightened.

We told Tim and Sue what happened and then Tim told us he saw those trucks speed by his place and he knew exactly who they were, which was encouraging news. At least we could go after them legally. And then, I will never forget this, Tim told us that sometimes up here you have to take care of things like that yourself, and THEN he said, serious as a heart attack,"You guys have some really deep mines up here." Total silence. I laughed at the joke but Tim and Sue didn't. I looked over at Butch like, Um, they're joking, right? "Well, um, heh heh. Well. ANYhoo......"  (what have we gotten ourselves into?)

That truly was a good day although I didn't know it at the time. It was the beginning of a wonderful friendship with those two. They became indispensible to us with all their advice and help. And they were so generous. Though we always kept what he said in mind and tried to never get on their bad side. Yikes.

Even though we tried and tried and tried to get those guys prosecuted - one even left his muffler behind when it fell off as he hit our new gate - so we had proof - we never were able to get any justice. Apparently these guys' dad had friends in the police department and no one would help us. We realized then that Tim was right and that we were on our own up here and had to take care of things ourselves. As frustrating as that was, I am glad to report that we found a lot of the stuff they stole. They must have panicked after they left and threw it all down a mountainside which we found later. And even better news, they never came back. I think someone got a message to them and it worked. I was thankful nothing like that ever happened again. It was a one time deal (so far anyway). Oh and Butch got the cabin all put back together and standing upright again. No sweat.

You know how people who are newly married or who are starting a new enterprise always seem to have to go through a difficult time right away? That seemed to be our test. We got through it, Butch's colors were more flying than mine, but we survived. No harm done. We learned a few good lessons. We decided not to replace the "Welcome All" sign. There were bad people everywhere and we needed to be a little careful, especially way up here in the remote mountains where the POlice even needed help finding us. But it all worked out. The best thing that happened is that we learned to say, "It could have been worse." Because it always can be.

Chapter Four - Auspicious New Beginnings?

So exactly how does one begin a whole brand spankin' new life up on top of a mountain, off grid no less? Where does one start? There was so much to do and we were both so excited we wanted to jump right in. I mean we had our gorgeous property complete with three springs, starting a new life of independence and self-sufficiency, knowing that if everything went to heck in a handbasket, we'd survive up here. We were Homesteaders and Modern Day Pioneers and were very proud of ourselves, especially since we weren't as young as we used to be. We were both heading for our fifties but it didn't scare us! (mostly because we had no idea what we were getting into but still....)

Since it was now February, the property was completely covered in snow so there wasn't a whole lot we could do. We spent our time researching off grid properties, solar energy, wind turbines, batteries etc... while my genius-can-do-anything husband drew up the architectural plans for the house we agreed on. I didn't have a lot of particular things I wanted or a specific house in mind. My desires were summed up this way, "Wood, big porches, huge utility room and lots of windows. I don't care about anything else." He was free to design it himself which he was tickled about. He is so creative and talented, a true artist. When I tell him this, he scoffs, but it's true. He could do whatever he wanted. I knew it would be amazing.   

We planned and dreamed and studied and read and did more research while waiting for the snow to melt. Which it finally started to do in March. Which was weird. The snow never melts in March up here. It holds on stubbornly until May most years. We didn't know to be grateful for the early spring that year. We thought that was normal. Snort! SO not normal. 

As the snow began to melt we were a little dismayed at what was underneath. It was a doggone mess. Since the place had been logged a few years before, there were sticks, branches, stumps everywhere.  No one had lived here since the miner a hundred years ago and many, many people had been coming up here to see the view and shoot glass bottles and cans and leave trash all over the place. There was so much broken glass and branches and spent shells, you crunched or tripped everywhere you walked. It looked like a war zone. We didn't realize we had such a huge clean up job before we got to work building but my husband, being the stoic he is, just said, "Part of it" and got to work. 

We picked up sticks and branches until I thought my back would break. We made lots of little bonfires everywhere to get rid of said sticks and branches. We picked up bags and bags of trash. I began to believe there would never be an end to the sticks, glass and trash. It's also really rocky up here. In needing to clear out several places for building sites, we picked up a ton of rocks. It was hard work but it was still fun. Exciting. Satisfying cleaning up our own property, making it nice. Plus we had this gorgeous view to look at while working and it was so quiet up here. I had never heard such quiet. It was so quiet that it was loud, if you know what I mean.

Butch's son Jay was living with us at the time; he was a huge help and made us laugh all the time. We had two dogs named Daisy - the Boxer/Pit mix, and Baby - the ugliest Yorkie alive. They were no help at all but they loved it here, spending most of their time in the truck with the heater on. 

We bought a tractor which was so exciting for me. I, being a city girl, had never owned a tractor before! Whoop! I learned to drive it pretty quickly because luckily for moi, I knew how to drive a stick shift. Me, driving a tractor. Who'd have thunk? Too fun. 

The old miner's cabin was sitting right on the most perfect building spot so it had to be moved. We wanted to preserve it exactly the way it was. Butch and Jay numbered the logs then Jay, all by himself, took the cabin apart log by log and moved it down the hill not too far from its original site. Then Butch put it back together log by log, all by himself. It took forever and was hard work - those logs are heavy. I watched with trepidation as Butch would grab one of those big logs and walk up other logs and set it in place. I couldn't believe how strong this skinny, wiry guy was. Once put back together, you couldn't even tell the cabin had been taken apart. Very impressive. Who knew Butch could do stuff like that?

Have I mentioned that he and I hadn't been married very long by this point? Less than a year and a half actually. He had been friends with my dad for a long time and I knew he was a builder/carpenter/all around do anything guy. I knew he had built houses and done all kinds of work, but to see him in action was impressive. Especially when he didn't have a shirt on. Made it hard to concentrate on my own work. Tsk. He may have been close to fifty but he still looked gooood. Ahem.

Suffice it to say, we were still getting to know each other. It was going pretty well with a few bumps along the way. For instance, his idea of cleaning was way different than mine. He thought it should be done regularly and with a lot of monkey grease and gusto. To me cleaning was something to be avoided as long as possible, just this side of shame. I like a clean house, I just don't want to be the one to do it necessarily. My idea of cleaning is firmly in the camp of "Impressionism" kind of like my favorite painters. The 'Illusion of clean" if you will. His idea of eating was way different than mine too. He liked SPAM. Enough said. I was a foodie and loved cooking things like coq au vin and beef bourguignon and chicken cacciatore. He liked only meat and potatoes and everything fried, even his cereal. I regularly ate vegetables. He thought a potato chip was a vegetable.  He was a workaholic. I was decidedly not. He was tough and sort of grumpy. I was a total wimp and sweet. He was a hard-working, no nonsense, country kind of boy. I was a "life's for living", let's-have-fun-now-and-work-later-if-we-have-to city kind of  girl. I said the word, "Anal" to him a lot. He said, well, he said a lot of things, some unprintable. Let's just say I frustrated him quite a bit. I cried quite a bit. Our differences made for some interesting days and discussions, a 'little' frustration and a 'few' misunderstandings. We had to learn to work together though because we had a LOT of work to do. Thank goodness we both had a good sense of humor. It might have been our saving grace honestly. And the fact that we loved each other. That helped. 

My wise advice to any new couple just starting out is this: the absolute worst thing you can do to learn more about each other is to build a house together. Yikes. You wouldn't believe the strain this puts on a new marriage especially when one of you (I'm not telling who) doesn't know the names of tools or how to wield a hammer or a drill or know stupid things like measurements. So, not a healthy, easy start for a marriage but blindly plunge ahead we did. It was hard. And a lot of work (not my favorite thing). It was boring some days. There was a lot of griping and cussing and throwin' stuff and the eternal damnation question of, "What do you MEAN you don't know.....?!" Butch is really smart but it must be selective or spotty because his not being able to take one look at me and just know that I wouldn't be handy in a house-building situation is beyond me.  But I get ahead of myself.  

By May, the snow had melted, it had warmed up to a toasty 40 degrees, we had cleaned up pretty well and cleared several spots. The pretty glacier lilies were all over the place. The birds were singing. It was time. It was finally time to start building. It was also going to be a time of going through some tough stuff and making awesome new mountain friends. Here's to new beginnings.......