Mountain Men of Idaho

They were hunters, trappers, bear fighters, Indian killers who lived off the land and survived annual rendezvous. The sun, the wind, the harsh winter climate tanned and dried and leathered their faces until those without beards (and there were a few) had to roll up their sleeves to bare white arms as proof of their Caucasian identity.

The majority dressed more in Indian fashion than Indians. Fringed shirts. Buckskin leggings. Feathers. Beads. And bones. They wore their gee-gaws with pride ~ each trinket a momento of some rendezvous, Indian maiden, daring feat, or gift of friendship.

Possessions were bare essentials, scaled down so that all could be hastily gathered and spirited away at the first sight of trouble. Those over-encumbered easily lost the over-flow to Indians, if they didn't first, lose their lives trying to protect their property.

It was a life of extremes. Days of hunger would quickly be forgotten while consuming ten pound of sizzling buffalo steak. A day of cold and misery could thaw before the blaze of campfires as the memory of its harshness trickled away with each sip of Old Jamaca rum. Loneliness would give way to wild get-togethers with rivals or friends. The men would become engorged on gaming, drinking, pitting wit against wit, and brawn against brawn that solitude would become, once again, a desperately needed state of being.

Mountainmen were mountainmen for the sheer joy of freedom, endurance and oneness with nature. Any one who said that it was for the money, lied.