Grouse Creek reunion

These days, we locals can walk around downtown Sandpoint and never see a familiar face. Go to the woods, though, and we often hit paydirt. I remember driving to the top of Lunch Peak in the Cabinets a few years ago and running into some members of the Gooby family who've lived in this neighborhood longer than I have. And that's nearly 60 years.

A couple of years ago, one Sunday afternoon, we had driven the Trestle Creek Road east of Sandpoint and were heading down into the Lightning Creek drainage north of Clark Fork when we ran across Terry Burnham and his grandson 4-wheeling. Terry has lived on a farm about half a mile north of us for more than 40 years.

Yesterday, I suggested to Bill that we go up to Grouse Creek. It's northeast of Sandpoint, and it's the area where I first worked for the Forest Service engineers back in the late 1960s. Along with my partner, Sis Ballenger from Heron, we ushered in the era of girls working on F.S. crews. In fact, we were such a novelty that we rated a feature in the Sandpoint News Bulletin called "Hard Hats and Curls."

While taking abne-level readings for nine miles up Grouse Creek, we got to know the engineers Dick "Huckleberry" Creed, Dave Lee, and Vern Eskridge along with other summer crew members. Dick earned his name because he was always on the lookout for the Idaho State Fruit.

My memories of those good days on Grouse Creek always draw me back from year to year. As we drive along the road, I can remember spots where we ate sack lunches next to the creek or steep hillsides which made our work of going either straight up or straight down so many feet off the roadway to get our engineering data. The brush didn't always cooperate as we took readings every 50 feet.

During yesterday's drive, we kept a steady focus on roadsides and meadows, hoping to see a moose. Bill says there are a lot of them up in that area, but they must have all gone to a weekend gathering somewhere far, far away. We neared the turnaround spot at the end of the road and had nothing to show for our drive until I spotted a pickup and horse trailer parked in the open lot.

A man wearing a beat-up Western hat and a Carhart jacket walked behind the trailer as we drove in to turn around. He had his eye on us and decided to come around in full view. As we got closer, his face became very familiar. Gary Beauchene grew up with his two brothers, Al and Roger, and sister Elsie about a mile down the road from our house on North Boyer. We rode the school bus together for nearly a dozen years.

He had just returned from an overnight trip to Boulder Meadows with his Tennessee Walker riding horse and his pack string of one horse and one mule. Our familiarity sprouted an instant conversation about horses, mules, and the neighborhood. Gary just shook his head and grimaced when I asked what he thought about his family farm, transforming into a gated estate for Coldwater Creek founder Dennis Pence.

"The neighborhood's gone," he said. And, that appeared to be all he wanted to say about the wonderful area on North Boyer where we all romped as carefree, adventuresome kids along Sand Creek and the in nearby mountains while growing up. Now, Sand Creek is fenced off and the nearby mountains are covered with houses and "No Trespassing" signs.

These days, Gary prefers to take his horses and mules to remote areas like Boulder Meadows or the St. Joe. The fewer people the better, he says. He's really looking forward to retirement when he can escape the year around.

And, I guess yesterday's sighting of yet another longtime acquaintance in a faraway setting proved something to us. The locals may have discovered the same idea as those moose we were hoping to see on our Grouse Creek outing. They escape the craziness of where they once called home.