Fall at the ranch brought hunting season, one of Daddy’s busiest times, as he outfitted and acted as guide to hunting trips into Yellowstone and its surrounding forests. He would round up horses, those that were to pack supplies were carefully loaded, the supplies balanced, then covered and tied with diamond hitches. The riding horses were checked for shoes, and ridden enough to work the friskiness out of them. Then off the string would go. On good trips, he would bring back an elk, but always stories of the antics of the dudes. If there was an elk and since the weather was already cold, he would store it outside, hanging it high in a cleft between a huge rock back of our house by the upper pond. Mom would can some of the meat to make sure we would have enough supply to last until the next hunting season. At mealtime, Mom would order up a roast or steaks, and Daddy would carve off just what was needed. Rabbit, deer and chukker would add variety to the meal, and of course fish.
Middle pond late fall about 1956
When that was on the menu, us kids would take our poles and some cheese or fat earthworms for bait and go to the middle pond (50 feet from the front door) and catch a mess of trout for dinner.