(39:40) The first time I’d seen this bear at Stoney Creek. She was with her mother, she was older. She was born in February or something like that. That was in late July, the first part of August, and she was with her mother. They used to hang around up by the old elk trap, up the Cascade there. Then, in September she came down one day and I had a cook from the cadet camp with me. He was riding. His wife and my wife come up with the car to pick us up. (The plan was) we’d just turn the horses loose and they’d go back down to Stoney Creek. We were right there by the elk trap. The cub was standing up looking at us and I said “Let’s get these saddles off and get out of here quick. I don’t know where the sow is!’ Something had happened to her mother, we never did see her mother. She denned up that winter I guess, and made it. The next spring she was a two year old. She was bothering around those beaver dams where everybody used to fish just between Stoney Creek and the elk trap. I’d seen her coming, we were fishing. Val Geist was doing that sheep study. Something made me look up and here she come. She was sneaking. We were all on this beaver dam. I was here and Val was here and she was coming down this way. So I said “Okay, go off the other way.” She come around across the beaver dam. Then she jumping in the beaver dam and swum across. That gave us a little speed. Well when we got off the beaver dam I said, “Let’s split, one of us go each way and one of us will make it.” So I turned up the creek and he (Val) run straight ahead. He finally got up a tree. Well, she was sitting around the bottom of the tree trying to figure out where he went. I was going the other way. I know that creek, it is a narrow little thing, not as wide as this table and maybe four or five inches deep. But there was a pothole that I stepped in. My clothes were so cotton picking wet that I could hardly run anymore. Val was hollering, but I couldn’t understand what he was saying. He was up the tree and he was trying to tell me that the bear was at the bottom of the tree. Well I got up to the truck. My rifle was in my truck up the Cascade Fire Road there… But the bear had back tracked because we had wandered all over along them beaver dams. She done that every time. She’d back track where we’d come from…She’d run at me about three times. That first time and a couple of times after that, took me by surprise. But every time you went up a tree, she’d back track you. She didn’t seem to know where you went. She got so that she was hanging around down Stoney Creek station. She used to use the door jam for a rubbing post. She was liable to get you, but she never did get a hold of anybody. Then I got moved to Bow Summit and Jim Rimmer was coming. I knew he was crippled up because he’d lost part of his feet. I figured she’d get him, but she never showed up again. Jack Holroyd said, “Don’t you ever shoot that bear, no matter what she does. Because she will run up to the car and I can get good pictures of her.” But he didn’t have to live with her! We’d come home from town or come back from being some place and there would be hair stuck in the shingles along the door jam where she’d use it for a rubbing post. She’d upset our burning barrel all the time. One fall she walked off with my block of horse salt. She dropped it part way up the pasture. (I gave her) many names, but I can’t put them in print!
(45:30) Wayne (Frank’s oldest son) was born when we were at Bow Summit. The third of January. We’d spent New Year’s down in Canmore at the ranger’s station. Come back and we were down Saskatchewan Crossing for supper with Gerry Lyster and his wife. Got home, we were supposed to go on holiday, the next day or couple of days and Colleen said, “Well, it’s time to go, we got to go.” I said, “Why, it’s not daylight yet.” “We got to got to the hospital!” God! It was snowing! About a foot of wet snow was on the highway…I beetled it into Banff to the hospital. I stopped at Castle/Eisenhower, whatever you want to call it. It was called Eisenhower at that time, but it was still Castle to me. It’s back to Castle now. I got some gasline antifreeze because where the fuel comes into the carburetor; it would end up with frost and cut me off. That didn’t work, I had to get there! I got that going. That was January 1966, because it was November, Remembrance Day, when they moved me from Bow Summit to Stoney Creek. Jim Burles did it with the horse truck.
(47: 55) I didn’t really want to go to Bow Summit. God, the snow was 20 feet deep. They said, “This is an improvement, you get a highway district.” I said, “Yeah, an improvement? It was about a $100 jump in rent.” We all paid rent. I only paid $13/month in Stoney Creek. It was $125 or some cotton picking thing at Bow Summit. All we had was a wood furnace at Bow Summit. We had to haul the wood, pack it in, and pack the ashes out. At Stoney Creek we had a forced air furnace. It (the Bow Summit cabin) was the old house, exactly the same as the one at Windy. But they had a wood furnace…I could take you right to where it is (the foundation of the Bow Summit cabin).
(49:50) I had quite a few broncy horses. They used to give me some of the broncy ones. Some that weren’t broncy, but nobody else wanted. One they gave me, Patches…was a red and white pinto they bought from Frank Marr from Twin Butte. He was a good pack horse but nobody liked him. You couldn’t ride him. He’d just run in a circle and came back to where you got on him. He’d just stand there and shiver because he’d never been rode, he’d just been packed. But, he didn’t like another horse behind him. He would get fidgety on the trail if they crowded him. He’d run in the bush. I’d just put him at the back end (of the pack string and he followed all day. You could pack anything on him. He was a good pack horse. I had two good pack horses when I left Stoney Creek. Old Mouse and Patches… (The horses didn’t come to Bow Summit) because I didn’t stay there in the summer. They would have come if I’d stayed at Bow Summit, damn right, they would have!