I’m still struggling finding my way home from the high country and those majestic Rocky Mountains. Now I’m not referring to struggling in the literal sense by depending upon Delta to get me back. No, I’m not stuck in Dallas or Atlanta sleeping in a chair and waiting on paperwork from the tower. The struggles I am incurring or those from within. My physical self is here doing my best to finish mounds of paperwork, harvest, year-end orders, and all I can to delay the passing of the last few months of the year. My soul, however, is still above timberline holding on to what the mountain offers to those of us that will allow it to become part of us, or better said, what the mountain allows us to become a part of. I will digress back some 30 odd years, and then return back to a quaint little village in Northwest Montana…Whitefish. Here’s a story.
Years ago a fellow cotton consultant, Pete Baughman from Cleveland, graciously offer me the opportunity to join a lease in Northeastern Montana. This particular parcel of land bordered the Grassland National Park in Saskatchewan. The Frenchman Creek flowed out of Canada and eventually emptied into the Milk River. We had access to seven miles of this creek bottom choked with brush and thick willows starting at the Canadian border. It was a mecca for whitetail, pheasant, Hungarian partridge, and waterfowl. My opportunity to hunt this place came about because an individual in the lease with Pete decided to start hunting more in Alberta, the new “hotspot” for giant bucks at the time. The gentleman I am referring to is Dick Idol.
Many of you may remember him as he made a name for himself in the hunting world and one of the founders of the extremely popular magazine “North American Whitetail”. These were truly pioneer days when it came to promoting deer and deer hunting and Dick was one of the leaders in the industry.
Hunting videos were almost non-existent and the only hunting show on television was the American Sportsman narrated by Curt Gowdy. One of the first whitetail videos I can remember was “King of the North”, also narrated by Curt Gowdy. There was another and for the life of me I can’t remember the name of it. It was about those legendary Canadian whitetails and I think it was produced and narrated by Russell Thornberry. Another was “Hunting October Whitetails”, produced by Barry and Gene Wensel. In fact, they hunted on the same Montana ranch where I spent so many glorious, frigid mornings. Other hunters in that video that also hunted on the infamous Frenchman were Rick Blasé and Gene Bidlespacher. Some of you may remember these names.
For more than a decade we hunted the Frenchman and some of my most fond memories in the outdoor world were made there. Alas though, time brings about change. Man is notorious for wanting to know what lies beyond the next ridge and we started hunting other states and provinces. We did the Canada thing for a while. Illinois became popular along with the states of Nebraska, Oklahoma, and Kansas. Along these jaunts you meet people. Sometimes you stay in touch with those you meet and other times relationships fade away. This is where I return to Whitefish.
The shops along the cobblestone streets of Whitefish hold a bounty of treasures. Ornate turquoise, saddlery, and western art are just a few of the items you will find as you stroll along. I was enjoying my afternoon and admiring what was before me. As I looked ahead I noticed an overhanging sign that read, “Dick Idol Signature Gallery”.
I entered this place of business and was immediately awestruck at what was before me. Everything you could imagine about the West was here. Native American art, oil paintings of wildlife, bronzes of the wapiti, whitetail, and the wolf were just a few of the pieces of indescribable beauty to admire. I introduced myself to a lady behind the counter and briefly related my story and how I had met Dick 30 years ago. We exchanged pleasantries and then she pointed and said, “he just walked in.”
It took a few minutes for him to make the connection with me, but after we talked about the Montana ranch and Peter and some of the other notable hunters that were previously mentioned I saw an expression come over him. I knew he was going back to those days on the Frenchman and Alberta. We began to speak of other hunters that we had known back in the day and their fate. We talked about what we do now and what hunting still means to us. All the while I could see the wheels turning as he reflected. He mentioned creating a blog or some venue so that we could possibly re-connect with what brought us to where we are today.
After a lengthy and wonderful visit he introduced me to his wife, Toni Rae, and one of his sons, Colt. Colt is following in his dad’s footsteps by becoming a world-renowned artist of wildlife and the West and how it was. It was quite the treat for me to visit with the man that was a huge inspiration for my love of hunting western whitetails. I assure you, I won’t wait another 30 years to talk again. I now have my “Dream Buck” in my den thanks to Colt and his talent with brush and canvas. If you’re a fan of the west and what it holds, look Dick and his family up, you’ll be glad you did.
Until next time enjoy our woods and waters and remember, let’s leave it better than we found it.
