The Big Sandy Mountaineer -

The late 1960’s was a strange time for my family. I was teaching in Glasgow. Mother was getting her feet wet in politics and my sister LouAnn was still in high school.

My dad had died in a car accident in front of our Clear Creek cabin in 1964 and we continued to use the cabin even though it was never the same after that accident.

As a family we had spent a lot of time in the Flathead, around Whitefish Lake and even more at Lake McDonald. We knew that sooner or later we wanted to at least have a summer home there but in order to make that happen in the late 1960’s we would have had to have sold our Havre house and moved over there full time. We were not prepared to do that.

So, almost out of the blue, a Havre Architect offered to sell us his little A frame on the Rocky Boy Reservation in upper Beaver Creek. The price was right for us and we talked a lot about whether this was the time to move once and for all from Clear Creek where I had spent summers since I was born and move to Beaver Creek instead. Finally, we decided to buy the cabin. What made us do that was the fact that it had a beautiful view of Baldy which was almost in the back yard. It was simply a breathtaking view. Matter of fact, I built a back porch on the A frame to give us an even more dramatic view of that highest of all Bear Paw peaks.

The move was done and we never looked back. It all seemed so right for us at the time.

Well, it was probably 1968 or 1969 and had been a very warm winter. It was one of those times when March seemed much more like spring than winter. I took an extra day off work at the high school in Glasgow and a friend and I went out to the A frame to enjoy a long St. Patrick’s Day weekend and I was going to cook up some corned beef and cabbage for family and friends that Saturday. Not only that but I had a huge World War II US Army kettle and I was going to cook the corned beef and cabbage in that kettle over an open fire on the patio in front of the A frame. Now today I would never tackle that. I would cook it all on the kitchen range but then I was young and foolish and thought I could do anything in the kitchen. After all, my mother and dad could so why couldn’t I?

My friend and I cleaned all the vegetables, got the water ready and the fire going outside the cabin. I brought the corned beef brisket out and was just about ready to put it in the water that was now starting to boil and bubble. Suddenly I remembered that I did not bring the seasonings or an onion outside so I ran in the house to get them and when I got back outside there was no corned beef brisket. All gone. All all gone! Only thing left outside was my friend’s fat cocker spaniel, licking his lips and chops as if to say thank you for that wonderful meal. I had some choice words for my friend as my dogs would not ever have done that.

But the deed was done and just when it looked like we would have to go to town and get more brisket and there was not time for that with people coming that afternoon, a rancher friend from Little Box Elder Creek drove up. I told him of my bad luck. He thought a few minutes, then said, keep the kettle boiling and the fire going. I will be back in an hour or two.

Well, gentle readers, he was back in two hours and wrapped in a newspaper, he carried a roast of something that looked simply wonderful. I did not ask where he got it. I just told him to throw it in the pot and I proceeded to cook my corned beef and cabbage in the time tested old way.

Family and friends showed up and we fished out the vegetables, made a sauce for the corned beef out of mustard and brown sugar, sliced the beef and served it.

People actually raved that this was the best corned beef they had ever eaten. It was all gone shortly and all the potatoes, carrots, onions, and cabbage all devoured as well. Folks were still raving about the meal two hours later, a first for my meals!

Later most of the family and friends left and we were sitting on the back porch, my dogs, my friend, the rancher and the dratted cocker spaniel when the rancher spoke up and said, “Robby that was the best damned beaver roast I have ever eaten. You had better save that recipe.”

I didn’t save the recipe and thankfully never had to go down that road again but it was sure good before I knew what it was!