I had an almost idyllic childhood growing up on the family farm 17 miles northwest of Cut Bank, Montana.
My aunt, uncle and five cousins lived on an adjoining farm and when I wasn’t in school my life was filled with fun and adventure that included my cousins, one or both of my two younger sisters and another boy about my age that lived on a nearby farm. My memories of exploring the nearby “Crystal Hills”, hunting rabbits and gophers, helping my Dad build granaries and work on farm equipment, learning to drive at an incredibly early age (I had my own old beater pickup before I was 10 years old), driving grain trucks during harvest and riding my horse Star, always bareback – we didn’t even own a saddle, all over the prairie are some of the very best memories of my life.
Cut Bank is only about an hour’s drive from Glacier National Park and vicinity and during summers we spent as much time at Lake Blaine as we could possibly squeeze into our busy schedules. Here, Dad and I are heading out on the lake to fish for Kokanee Salmon (1954 I think). As I got a little older, I’ll admit that I became much more interested in water skiing and girls in bikinis (not necessarily in that order) than I was in fishing.
At one point my parents were trying to decide if they should sell the farm, or not. At first I didn’t know that they were even considering it but one day, between my junior and senior years in high school, they sat me down at the kitchen table with very serious looks on their faces and asked me if I was interested in eventually taking over the farm.
Whoa, that was a question that came from out of the blue but my answer to them was almost immediate. No, I had no interest in farming for the rest of my life. For two reasons.
By that age I already knew that I hated spending 8-12 hours a day going round and round in circles on the tractor or swather or combine. To me it was mind-numbing and I had no interest in spending the next 50+ years doing it.
But there was another reason for my answer to their question.
This is the weather forecast for Cut Bank tomorrow morning (I’ve marked the approximate location of the family farm with a small red X). Winters in northwest Montana on the east slope of the Rockies are long and absolutely brutal. Cut Bank and International Falls, Minnesota are often the coldest spots in the “lower 48” and even as a teenager I knew that I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life enduring them.
When I was very young I’d seen it as cold as -53° F. on the farm, without windchill. Temps like that get your attention.
So, in that brief moment when I’d barely turned 17 years old I told my folks “no”, which dramatically altered how my life would turn out. Just over a year later I was going to college at Utah State University in Logan and after graduating with a biology degree from the University of Utah I ended up teaching in Salt Lake City School District high schools for 33 years before retiring and taking up bird photography as a very serious hobby.
For me it was absolutely the right decision. But I wouldn’t trade my growing up years on the farm, or my memories of them, for anything. Cold or no cold.
Ron
Note: We didn’t own a saddle because as a kid my Dad watched as one of his friends was dragged and kicked to death when he fell from his horse and his foot got caught in one of the saddle stirrups. Dad wouldn’t even consider allowing me to use a saddle – he made that abundantly clear. Besides, I didn’t want one anyway. I thought riding bareback was some of the best fun a kid could have.
I understand completely. My son and his family live in northern Montana ( Whitefish) and temps there today are minus 30 degrees.
I know Whitefish well, Deedee. It’s only a few miles from Lake Blaine.
I loved reading this post! What memories you have! Priceless.
Thanks very much, Joanne.
Farming is a very hard life, even with many of the new convinces in equipment. I have great respect for farmers. Jon’s dad grew up on a dirt farm in Oxford Idaho. His parents were Mormon, Swedish immigrants. Jon’s dad hated farm life, it did not help he had allergies to everything on a farm. In summers he and his two brothers often didn’t have shoes, they had worn out and did not get new ones till the new school year. He and his brothers couldn’t wait to get off the farm. They all went to college here in Utah and did not look back. I don’t think there is even a town Oxford in Idaho anymore, just a park and a few houses. The city of Oxford was full of Olson’s mostly related and recent immigrants from Sweden or only first generation born in Idaho. Jon’s dad and mom kept in touch with many of the childhood friends and cousins, some stayed in ranching and farming but moved to other states, most did not.
“it did not help he had allergies to everything on a farm”
April, that would make hating farm life completely understandable. I can’t even imagine…
I’m watching a flock of little birds, juncos and sparrows, scrabbling thru the snow for the birdseed at the base of our spruce tree. It’s 2 degrees here in Central WA, and they are puffed up and kind of frantic, very different from their more relaxed foraging yesterday when it was in the high 30s-40s. I can’t imagine the cold you describe in Cut Bank. I can imagine the warmth of your horse as you rode Star bareback – now that’s a lovely image. Thanks for sharing your history – it’s always so interesting.
” I can imagine the warmth of your horse as you rode Star bareback”
Thanks for reminding me of that warmth, Carolyn. On coolish days it felt very good. When it was hot, my jeans where they came in contact with Star, were usually wringing wet with sweat.
That is cold beyond anything I have ever experienced. And I suspect I would be with your mother on the subject of the wind. Our much milder wind storms get under my tail and make me irritated and antsy.
I am so glad that early decision was the right one for you – and hooray for childhoods like yours.
“That is cold beyond anything I have ever experienced.”
EC, I have no wish to experience it ever again. I guess I got soft and maybe a little grumpy in my old age…
I love historical posts like this. Thank you for sharing.
Good. Thank you, Patrick.
Thanks for sharing some of your family history, Ron. It’s clear to see how you developed a love of nature, and that has led to a lot of enjoyment for all of us.
Also thanks for sharing that Cut Bank forecast – makes me feel like it’s going to be relatively balmy in Fort Collins this weekend.
Thanks, Bill. Cold is relative, isn’t it.
What a great post. Memories of childhood are precious when they are of happy times like that. As an Air Force brat I grew up partly in PMQs and partly on a farm when my father retired at 55. But like April’s father I too had allergies to crops, manure and animals of all sorts so while I love living close to nature and observing all the life natural areas have to offer I will never be one of those photographers who can lay down in a field to get that perfect shot. I am however grateful for the introduction I had even if it meant sniffling and dripping and wheezing my way through high school.
Granny Pat, allergies don’t sound like they’re any fun. I’ve been lucky to have never had them, except for one mysterious case of hives when I was in my mid-twenties.
When I joined the Air Force, I’m convinced some admin clerk saw “Place of Birth: Miami, FL” and proceeded to send me to every cold spot on the planet. I learned to love snow – for about 20 minutes. Driving in Germany on black ice was exciting – until your reached the bottom of the hill.
My thin blood kindly requested I return to the Sunshine State.
Great post. Nostalgic, informative, entertaining.
Hope all is well with you, Ron. One day, I’ll catch up. (No. Really.)
“I learned to love snow – for about 20 minutes”
Wally, that’s a pretty common reaction of a lot of folks to snow when they have to live in it. I don’t mind snow so much, but bitter cold and wind is another story altogether.
Brrrr! People living up on the ‘high line’ endure a special kind of cold since there is nothing to stop the wind that roars south from Alberta. Thanks for sharing your Cut Bank stories. I grew up in Helena — a city kid. People would often leave their cars running when they went to the grocery store. The schools closed only once: I believe it was the winter of 1969 and it had been -30 for three weeks. Plus there was three feet of snow. Schools closed for a week.
We’re expecting freezing rain this weekend in the Willamette Valley in Oregon. I’d prefer snow over freezing rain. The ice overloads the tree branches and they come crashing down — dangerous. Plus orchards suffer, etc. Amazing and frightening weather all over the country right now.
Kathryn, ice storms are awful. I’ve never been in a really bad one but I’ve heard stories..
The instant I saw “Cut Bank, Montana, in your headline, I knew what you would talk about. Not only because it’s also cold here in western Washington state, but because every snowy morning when I was growing up (in Iowa), we would hear that the coldest place in the country was either Cut Bank or Int’l Falls or Fraser, Colorado. Your childhood home is famous! It’s always fun to get more of the story. Thanks, Ron. (And stay warm, everybody, everywhere.)
“Your childhood home is famous!”
Ellen, check this out. Cut Bank’s avian claim to fame.
https://www.worldrecordacademy.org/2023/11/worlds-largest-penguin-statue-world-record-in-cut-bank-montana-423552
It even TALKS?! Sometimes…. 😆
That’s the rumor but I’ve never heard it…
My Dad grew up bicycling from his hometown, Basel, to his stepmothers dairy farm (she was one of ~15 kids) in the Berner Oberland every summer; hard work, which started before breakfast!
He had a story about one of his aunts, who worked in town, coming home with a foreign vegetable – in this case, a cucumber; Granddad didn’t know what it was and quietly slipped it under the table for the cats; it was found at the post-lunch sweep, and outrage was expressed (by aunts). Granddad says: if the cat won’t eat it, neither will I!
This family, the Lädrach’s, have just given up farming in the last 2-3 years; it was hard and difficult work, and they rarely had a day off
Nicky, farming’s tough, no question about that. But it’s incredibly rewarding too, especially for folks who prefer to be their own boss.
Wow! Growing up in California I’m cold when it gets to 55 ! And my only winter worry is some plants getting a wee bit too cold.
Catherine, I lived in southern Cal for a few years so I know what you mean.
Love the pic and the story! Would not give up my Alaskan childhood for anything – such a great and wonderful place to grow up. But as an adult I chose Arizona. -65!!! That is beyond cold!
Kathleen, I have a friend, Jim DeWitt, whose story is somewhat similar to yours. He lived in Fairbanks, and other places in AK further north and even colder, until he was 60 years old. He took it for as long as he could but a few years ago he’d had enough so he and his wife Nancy moved to Boise, ID – Nancy’s home town. For them it was a good move, even though they have many fond memories of living in AK.
A good decision Ron. Minus 60 would send me rapidly toward a warmer climate. We were 13 here last night and that is about as cold as I want to be. What a wonderful childhood though. That is the way all kids should grow up. I grew up in a similar world, but not as rural as yours. Great memories. Thanks for posting.
“That is the way all kids should grow up.”
I think I agree with you, Everett. It’s too bad that most can’t.
It’s a good thing that the memories you described well this
morning are so heart-warming, because the sound of the weather–
then and now– makes my very blood run cold…..I truly think that early settlers were a special breed of mammal, and BOY did you make the right decision ! I’ll stop complaining now about the 0 degree
reading at my house 2 mornings ago ( until the next time it occurs ! )
Kris, many (most) of my farm memories are “heart-warming” but there was nothing warm about those winters, or my memories of them. Thankfully, in later years we spent many of the winters in town instead of on the farm. But it was still just as cold.
I love this post! and I have a selfish reason to be glad that you made that decision: if you hadn’t I would have missed out on knowing a wonderful friend. 😉
Aww, Sue. Your comment made me feel warm and fuzzy.
I recognize grandma’s handwriting on the photo. I miss her immensely. I remember mom saying she hated the wind in Cut Bank. She didn’t talk much about the cold! Thank you for sharing this.
“I remember mom saying she hated the wind”
You’ve got that right, Shawna.
Growing up in Alberta Mom was used to the cold but she absolutely despised the wind. I remember her in tears more than once when the wind blew clothes from the clothesline all over the prairie, or blew newly sown grass seed out of the lawn or kept her from coming into the house from the car because she was afraid to open the car door for fear the wind would catch the door and rip it off its hinges.
Then there’s the wind which we’ve had a lot of this fall…….. 😉
Thank you for sharing another piece of your family history.
I just love that photo of you and your dad. I see that same impish look you had as a young lad in your adult photos today. It just put a big smile on my face.
In my part of Southern California it is 38 degrees this morning. Thought I was freezing my butt off taking the trash cans to to curb in the dark. Came in to read your post and saw those temps for Cut Bank and all around. My jaw dropped. How in the name of all that is holy does anyone stay warm and alive in those conditions? Honestly, I cannot imagine it.
Well, I think you made the right choice. But I certainly have a lot of admiration and respect (and a bit of pity) for hearty folks who make their living farming in these places.
“How in the name of all that is holy does anyone stay warm and alive in those conditions?”
It’s a valid question, Michael. Getting stranded on the farm by snow during a cold snap can be life threatening if something happens to your heat and/or light sources. Sometimes it’s almost impossible to keep your pipes from freezing. It gets your attention to see ice in the toilet bowl.
And driving is even more dangerous. Everyone knows up there that during winter you keep a long list of emergency supplies in your vehicles. Even then you’re taking risks.
What a great photo! Methinks you look almost exactly the same now. And how fortunate, both that you knew what you didn’t want and that your parents respected that.
“Methinks you look almost exactly the same now”
Ha, I wish. Without those big ears I’d barely recognize myself!
-46 this morning with windchill – NOT amusing – Cut Bank area is worse. Not going to let up until into next week….. 🙁 I knew we’d “pay” for our exceptionally mild fall at some point.
Yep, many were not interested in carrying on the family farm – either “in your blood” or it isn’t. Glad you chose differently and took up photography upon retirement. Definite “life lessons” learned growing up on a farm. I didn’t and came to it later – still happy for the experience and an appreciation for farmers/ranchers I wouldn’t have otherwise.
Fun photo working on rowing the boat – a different skill set! 😉
Joe some better tho still has a horrible cough….. 🙁
Judy, as a young man I sometimes wondered if I’d made the right decision. After all, I made it very quickly when I was still a teenager. More of my teenage decisions turned out badly than I’d care to admit.
But looking back 50 years later, I’m confident that it was the right decision for me.
Many didn’t make good decisions about that then whether from expectations or “just cuz” with the resulting loss of many family farms down the line. 🙁 Yeh, we all have decisions we wish we could do over…… 😉
Judy, my Dudley cousins still own most of their farm, and ours, so at least it stayed in the family.
Oh, Lordie. I grew up in Iowa, which provided occasional below zero delights, as well as some memorable blizzards, but I’d not move back there, either. Of course, even a coastal Texas resident can shiver in sympathy with you northerners. When I got up this morning, it was 70F. With two fronts on the doorstep, we’re headed for -22F Monday night, with 30-45kt winds. Of course, by Thursday we’ll be hitting 60F again, and thawing out. It’s the only roller-coaster ride I enjoy.
Shoreacres, I think my tolerance of cold has been affected by age. As a young kid those MT winters seemed “normal” and almost tolerable to me but I sure couldn’t endure them now.