Benoit`s Mill

Back to the brothers saga.

Things were different back then and kids had free range for the most part. Usually, the biggest danger to them was themselves!

On one adventure I had planned a camping trip for Steve and I up the Cowiche. My family always had a close connection to there and my Grandpa and Grandma Sorenson camped up there at a place called Cold Springs on their honeymoon. It was the gateway to many areas for us.

You could go to the jumpoff and down to the Tieton River, over Louie gap to Lost Lake or to the Ahtanum or the Conrad meadows area.

Some of my friends and I would ride dirt bikes up the canal bank to the canyon and all over from there. Steve never caught the motorcycle bug like I did back then and I did not own one yet. At that time I borrowed one from a friend most of the time.

Anyway, my folks were going to drop us off and pick us up in a few days. As I said before, things were different and they knew exactly where we were. They also knew the threat of no more outings if we got too stupid usually worked. Usually!

They did not always discover the depth of our foolishness although they probably had a strong suspicion.

For this trip I wanted to stay at the old Benoit’s mill site clear up what on the maps is called Reynolds Creek. We locals just called it the middle fork of the Cowiche.

Back then, one of the favorite pastimes of the local Boys was shooting at the local ground squirrels which everyone called grey diggers. Therefore, we each had a .22 rifle and a 500 round brick of ammo. Different times.

I was 12 and Steve 9 but I had gotten my first elk the previous year and Steve was being eased into hunting. There were still a couple of old buildings up there and my plan was to use one. The one thing I had not planned on was Steve having got the okay from our folks to bring his buddy Irv. Those two together became a dangerous substance! Mom had sent some baked beans for us to have that night with our hotdogs. This caused me to move my sleeping bag to the other building later that night where the air was less toxic!

We fished for the little native cutthroat in the beaver dams and old mill pond and had some for breakfast with fried potatoes. Somehow I got the cooking duties. Dish washing was usually scrubbing the worst off with sand from the creek. We went down stream where there were more squirrels to hunt a little. I came across a large rattler with a more attractive pattern than those lower down. The old timers always called these Timber rattlers but we found out later that they were just a subspecies of our normal pacific rattler. This one had a Grey digger partway down it and wasn’t moving too fast.

I knew the old guy on Thompson would pay more for that skin and took careful aim. This is where another surprise revealed itself. Irv had snuck a 20 gauge shotgun along besides his .22 rifle. Irv had a habit of letting fly no matter how close you were. He aimed at the lump in the snake and pulled the trigger.

Not only did he ruin the valuable skin but covered me with dirt, pieces of snake, and squirrel chunks. Also damned near blew out my ear drums. He was smart enough to take off while I was still stunned. He and Steve laughed later so I refused to cook for them. After trying unsuccessfully to cook they decided on chips and cookies for dinner.

My best revenge was when the beans they had for two meals kicked in. They had both neglected to bring toilet paper and I hid mine. They both walked a little uncomfortably after using whatever combination of leaves, sticks, or pine needles they had. Eventually they were forced to do a short bath in the mill pond. From their reactions, the water was a little chilly!

There would be other misadventures involving Steve and Irv over the years but after Dad picked us up, I made he and Mom promise to ask me before they okayed extra people for our trips.

More later.

• Steve