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Editor|Design|Sales Heather Niccoli

heather@homeandharvestmagazine.com 208.596.5400|208.596.4434

Publisher Tony Niccoli

po box 9931, moscow id

CONTRIBUTORS

Ashley Peel | Gayle Anderson Kimberly Dawn McKinney Joe Evans | Keith Crossler Ashley Centers | Dawn Evans Emory Ann Kurysh Glenda Hawley | Delaney Jensen Zachary Wnek | Tony Niccoli

S-wheat Farm Life

10

Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Beholder

18 34

40

I Like Big Buttes And I Cannot Lie

62

32 Hidden Fires

Simple Pickles

Automobiling Across Latah County

If you want the truth, this issue is the hardest one I’ve ever made. At first, I couldn’t figure it out, but then I realized that I had a certain pressure over my head that was dear to my heart: I was creating my parent’s retirement ad. The last ad they would ever run for their business.

My parents are Joe and Debbie Evans and they owned Shull Brothers Pest Control. It is one of the oldest businesses in town, some say third after Latah Title and Hodgins. I grew up knowing that I had a roof over my head because they had local customers supporting them. I learned what to do when the seasons proved lean with no snow, a spring was too wet, a summer too dry, and a fall that came and went so fast the leaves were under snow before they could get to them. My dad used to drive me around to look at the “best lawns in the area” that he was proud to take care of. I drove truck a few summers and learned more about appreciating the small wonders like having a weed free city. To this day, whenever I go to another town, I notice the huge abundance of weeds springing up through the cracks of sidewalks. Not Moscow!

See, the thing is my parents insisted on advertising in the magazine although they didn’t need to. Half the time they just wanted to thank people for supporting them through the years. In fact, their last ad was to be all about that. When I started this magazine, I had the thought that I’d launch cute and effective ad campaigns to help local business grow. What I didn’t expect would be many of these local businesses were advertising to help me and my business grow. What a thing. Really. In this day, in this world, tell me how rare it is to find a community like ours who is emboldened by supporting each other.

My parents also taught me about work ethic. Literally they delayed their retirement so they could make sure all of their customers were completely cared for through winter. My mom still works in the field, harder and faster than anyone I’ve known.

I’ve seen my dad spend Saturdays figuring out how to fix a lawn mower for the 10th time and I’ve seen my mom act on a moment’s notice to ditch the bookkeeping and join the crew when they were shorthanded. It taught me to not be afraid of working harder, and to be grateful that you have a job to do.

I wanted to give you a little window into their thank you ad. I also wanted to thank you. Because of you, my childhood was spent smelling fresh lawn clippings daily, my dad would come home smelling of grease and chemicals, a kind of horticulture cologne if you will. Almost every day my mom would pick us up from school and on the way home from the post office to pickup payments from customers, she would stop by McDonalds and get us an ice cream cone. Because of you supporting them, I had a roof over my head, clothes to eat, prom dresses to wear, and Mariah Carey cds.

Now that I have my own two local businesses, I depend more than ever on community support. When you see these ads in the magazine, know that you see the ad itself, but behind it is certainly a family, grateful to have you stop in and shop, eat their food, hire their services, you know, help them to survive.

I wish my parents all of the wild and reckless abandon in their new retired lives. I hope you both kill the best trophy animals while hunting, get your hair braided in Mexico, and experience all the rest and enjoyment life has to offer. You have worked so hard and have directly shaped the woman and business owner I am. This magazine would not exist without you.

Thank you to each and every one of my advertisers who support my local business. Thank YOU for appreciating those who support us and keep this publication going.

You all make my heart sing.

I love you, Mom and Dad. Off into the sunset you go!

Love,

Heather Niccoli Editor-In-Chief Home&Harvest Magazine

buttes I LIKE big

kie

and i cannot

tords

&ohotos

ashley peel When I first moved to Idaho—quickly approaching seven years ago—I tried to get out every weekend. I wanted to see it all and I wanted to see it right then. I drove out to Elk River and took the back way down to Dent where I saw—and almost ran over—my first bear cub. And was so excited I forgot to take a picture. (So I guess it didn’t happen.) I hiked Elk River Falls with a hunting knife sheathed to my jeans because a local at the bar told me I needed it for mountain lions. I spent more time looking up in the trees for large cats than I did enjoying the crisp wilderness air. And when I passed a man with a rifle strapped over his shoulder that hung down past his hips, I felt very inadequate. I hung out at Spring Valley and jumped off Granite Point, and snuck away on the weekends to CdA.

But then I came across Kamiak Butte and realized I could embark on a decent hike much closer to town. Just 16 miles outside of Moscow (14 miles from Pullman), it doesn’t take a full day to enjoy.

After class, after work, between class and work, you can easily fit in a solid hike. Secluded in the sense that you can make a call if you need to but you can’t update your Instagram from the top (and you don’t feel the need to tote around a large hunting knife…), Kamiak let’s you get away from most of it.

Winding through a mature forest of Douglas fir and ponderosa pine are over five miles of hiking trails. If you were born and raised within the rolling hills of the Palouse, you might not appreciate this forested haven as much, but for someone who was born in the land of old oak trees and maples, and who misses the presence of a forested landscape, Kamiak brings me back to the woods of my childhood. The park itself encompasses 298 acres and along with hiking, this state park offers day-use amenities like shelters available for rent, an amphitheater, picnic tables with grills and fire pits and playground equipment, as well as a eight first-come, first-serve tent sites for overnight camping.

If you hit the right season, what unfolds at the top is a panoramic patchwork of rolling farmland— bright green fields of lentils, golden fields of wheat and freshly tilled fields of dark brown—that stretch for miles into a horizon line reaching into the Blue Mountains to the south—and the white cloud-like shape of the Kibbie Dome—and the Palouse prairie to the north with Steptoe Butte protruding from the northwest. But after harvest or in the dead of winter, even on a cloudy day or when the fog encases the fields below, the landscape is always mesmerizing. And although a sunset hike may be tempting, be mindful that the park closes (and by close, I mean gated and locked) at dusk and it is possible to get locked in.

Home&Harvest

March/April 2018 12

The Pine Ridge Trail is the most popular. Looping 3.5 miles, it begins at the parking lot with a steady incline to the top. This north-facing slope sees minimal sunlight in the summer months and stays perpetually shaded during winter’s short days.

Because of this, hikers are given a reprieve in the heat of August, but it also means the trail can be snowy, icy, or muddy in wet and cold months. Springtime hikers are rewarded with the colorful blooms of shade-loving wild flowers like Trillium, Yellowbells and Fairy Slippers.

From the parking lot to the summit, you gain 600 feet reaching 3,641 feet in elevation, which happens to be the second highest point in all of Whitman County.

Millions of years ago, Kamiak Butte and the surrounding rolling hills of the Palouse were an ancient sea floor. And by physics more complex than my basic science knowledge, over time, the floor was compressed under massive pressure and pushed upward to form a mountain range with Kamiak and Steptoe as prominent peaks.

The wide trail is packed dirt and easy to navigate. On some days you won’t meet another soul, and other days you’ll run into someone every few minutes. As a dog-friendly trail, it’s a great spot to let your pooch work out the energy they pin up during the workday, although you’re supposed to keep them on leash, I’ll let you decide to follow that rule or not. As an owner of a rambunctious Maltese, my dog is always leashed, but more so because I’m afraid a large cat will eat him rather than him terrorizing a group of hikers.

Pine Ridge Trail leads to a false summit that opens up to grasslands on the sunny south slope. The direct sunlight and shallow soil creates a drastic change in environment from the north side, making Kamiak Butte a rather unique hike with a diverse range of flora. And with different trees and grasses come a variety of birds. In fact, it’s home to more than 130 species.

Once the path starts to level out, follow the ridgeline until you hit the junction of a short spur—out and back—trail. This trail is on private property but is open to hikers to reach the true acme. Then, retrace your steps to the beginning of the ridge and follow its spine eastward for a pleasant descent back to the parking lot. The open sunny slope winds down into a densely packed young growth forest. Turns out, this quarter of the trail was once a ski run. Originally built in the 1950’s, it soon failed due to lack of snow. As you near the end of the loop, options arise.

I would like to say that hiking a loop trail is as easy as it gets, but in full disclosure, my first time on Kamiak, I didn’t end up where I started. And it was an evening hike and getting locked into this park was not part of my Palouse Bucket List. Years of successful Pine Ridge routes have blurred my memory a bit, but I blame this junction. A bench marks a fork in the trail. The Pine Ridge Trail continues to the right, ending the loop back at the parking lot. Being the type of hiker (snowboarder, traveler, person) who never wants to take the same path twice, I chose to take the fork right, assuming I was still on the ‘loop.’ When my friend and I ended up in the campground, which at the time we didn’t know existed, we thought we had really messed up. There were no campers to ask for directions and if my memory serves me correctly, we ended up knocking on someone’s front door, which may or may not have been a park employee or private property.

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That little side trail, called the Sunset Trail, does eventually lead back to the parking lot (and for the record, we did not get locked in). It adds a half hour of hiking time to the Pine Ridge Trail and meanders through a mature Ponderosa Pine forest.

Hikers looking for more of a challenge should take the West End Primitive trail that branches out to the west of the Pine Ridge Trail. From the parking lot, this trail will be your third fork (the first fork letting you access the Pine Ridge Trail counter clockwise, and the second being a spur trail to the campground).

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Following a narrow path through a series of switchbacks, the primitive trail makes its way up to the same summit as Pine Ridge, but the butte-y burn is way more intense. Dogs aren’t allowed on the primitive trail to protect the flora and fauna and because of its quicker elevation gain, the crowds are scarce. (Hiking Pine Ridge counter clockwise also proves to be less crowded.)

I’ve always thought the Primitive Trail would be solid training grounds for runners wanting to maximize incline and heart rate, but I’ve yet to do more than slowly hike it. At the top, the Primitive Trail reconnects with the Pine Ridge Trail to finish the loop back at the parking lot. As an alternative, you can take the Primitive Trail eastbound from the summit and tackle those switchbacks on the downhill slope. If your knees can handle it. (I prefer to torture my quads and hamstrings.) You can certainly pack yourself a picnic and spread it out at the top of Kamiak or relax in the shade at one of the picnic spots. I’ve known more than one couple to stash a bottle of champagne at the top and pop The Question as the sun dipped down over the Palouse. (To date, they’ve all said “Yes.”) But I prefer the minimalist approach to hiking—water and my dog with all the intentions of grabbing a beer in town afterwards.

Home&Harvest

You could drive all the way back to Moscow or Pullman to negate all the calories you just burned, but I suggest making the pit stop much sooner in Palouse.

Palouse is a bundled up town with a funky vibe. There’s a three-story antique-store-meets-thrift-store that is to die for.

And a handful of casual places to pop in for an après hike beverage. (Après isn’t just for skiing, you know.) Don’t get too comfy though, you do have to make it back to Moscow/Pullman. (Please drink responsibly.)

Hiking is an amazing workout that accomplishes so many things: increases our heart rate, which in turn increases our metabolism long after we kick off those boots, hiking trails with a decent incline will tone that butte-y—I mean booty—the fresh air lifts the spirits and after a dark, dark winter, we could all use as much Vitamin D as we can get. And considering most of us have all but given up on those New Year’s Resolutions—let me guess, you promised yourself 2018 was the year you would lose weight—hiking is an alternative to that stair climber and treadmill at the gym. Of course, Kamiak isn’t the only butte around, but until now, it’s the only one I’ve hiked more than once. In the coming months, I’ll embark on a backyard adventure of sorts to all the nearby Buttes and bring the readers along for the ride.

March/April 2018 16

s-WhEaT Farm Life

By

Gayle Anderson

I

Home&Harvest

I have always had a serious love for dirt. Some of my best memories as a kid were playing in the dirt making mud pies and decorating them lavishly with sticks, rocks and weeds. In my mind, they were beautiful pieces of work and sometimes I would try to sell them, but unfortunately, they were not in high demand. Of course, later on and being the eldest, I graduated into having dirt clod fights with my brothers and sometimes their friends. I was told that I throw like a girl. Moreover, I was an easy target because I could not hit my intended victims ‌ the pesky younger brothers, but the fence posts were terrified of me. Fast forward many years and as a child playing in the mud, I never would have imagined that one day I would marry into a farming family and later on, solely own my small, but cherished farm.

March 20 may be just another day to most, but that day has been designated to celebrate those who put food on our table, farmers and ranchers. It is National Agriculture Day. Ag day is about recognizing and celebrating the contribution of agriculture in our everyday lives, which provides almost everything we eat, use and wear on a daily basis. Before I was submerged into the agriculture way of life, I had no idea how food was raised and thought that farmers just dropped seeds into the ground and then harvested the crop.

From the outside looking in, it looked like an easy job and I wondered what they did the rest of the year? After marrying a fourth generation farmer and living that lifestyle, the real education began for this ignorant Montana-born girl. I quickly learned about the long hours spent out in the fields and that there was a real science and precision to growing crops. When you married the farmer, you married into the lifestyle. It was not just a job, it was a way of life and your life revolved around the crop cycle, no if, ands or buts about it. From March through October was farming season. And this was just for the crop cycle. Friends who had cattle or pigs meant they were busy 365 days a year and worked even longer hours. I have great respect for those who are in animal Ag sector.

Thankfully, the farm life I was involved in was only a grain/legume operation.

March/April 2018 20

It was not until I went to a women’s leadership conference in April 2009 that I learned just how much agriculture was under attack by what I would call anti-Ag groups and environmentalists that use misinformation and fear tactics on the unsuspecting consumers to portray that farmers and ranchers were poisoning our land and food, and mistreating animals. And to push organic products as the only healthy way to eat, and make consumers distrustful of the Ag industry. This workshop was a call to action to urge women to use our voices to tell our farming story in our own way using our gifts. It set a spark alive in me to become an advocate for Ag. On the plane ride home, I contemplated what were my gifts? I did not think I was especially talented in many things, but I took inventory of what I did best or liked and my list was short. I liked to cook and entertain, I liked to play practical jokes on my family & fellow co-workers and I liked to write. The one thing I learned at a young age, if I wanted to do something, I would figure out a way to do it. So two out of three things that I felt would tell the Ag story was cooking and writing.

Then the ideas began to form and I had a good idea of what I wanted to do as I stepped off the plane.

As for the cooking part, I am a happy camper when I can make a mess in the kitchen that would either amaze or shock Julia Childs. Which in this girl’s world means I cook in an “exuberant manner” that most people call messy. (And my very own sweet mom will not let me cook in her kitchen (true fact), even though I clean up after I’m done.) Anyway, once home, I floated the idea to the farmer husband about hosting a dinner on the farm where non-farmers and farmers would gather around our dinner table to have real conversations about agriculture. A relaxed setting where questions could be asked and answers given, and perhaps an understanding of what farmers actually do and the reasons why we do what we do. It would be an opportunity where the consumer could put a face on Agriculture. The farmer husband agreed and we decided we would do this on a few Saturdays in September during our garbanzo harvest so the equipment would be on hand for viewing. We kept this a free event, but it was by invitation only and people had to apply to get a seat at the table. My target audience were those that shopped at the local Food Coop. Mainly because I deemed their clientele had a deep commitment and caring for how their food was raised and they could afford to buy organic.

We enjoyed the dinners as much as the guests who attended and we often heard that we should charge for the experience. However, my intent was to educate, not profit monetarily and I felt it would devalue the true purpose of what we wanted to accomplish. Which was that farmers are regular people doing an extraordinary job, as they feed the world. And that every day is earth-

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-day to a farmer, and that we care deeply about our resources, animals and the environment.

As for writing, well I took a stab at creating a farm blog to portray what life was like on a farm. It was a bit unnerving (and still is) to open up your life for public viewing. At one time, that blog was named one of the top ten in the nation by an Ag company. Whether or not it was true, it simply validated my serious love of being an advocate of agriculture.

After blogging for two or three years and hosting the dinner on the Farm events, I was invited to be one of the speakers at the first Woman’s Leadership in Agriculture Conference held in Chicago. This was to share my story about being an Advocate for Ag and perhaps inspire other woman whose livelihoods were tied to what goes on your dinner plate to tell their story in their way. It was also a time when my step-dad was drawing near the end with his 7-year battle with bone cancer.

As I sat in the hospital and watched the last rites being given, the powerful message hit me with full force that when you get to the end, that all you have are the memories and that hopefully you have lived your life well in your own way. He was in a semi-coma state and when I told him that I loved him, his eyes opened for a second, and he whispered, “Love you too daughter�. I knew it was our goodbye. I also knew I had-

-a choice to make, stay or go to the conference. I knew I had to be okay with that decision, as well as having the support of my family. And at 3:00am on November 30, 2011, I was up and getting ready for my 5:00am flight when I got the call. My brother’s voice broke and he couldn’t speak for a bit, and then I waivered a bit myself on whether or not to catch that plane. But I knew my step-Dad would have said, go and do what you do best, share your passion. As I boarded the plane, I had a heavy heart plus I was scared to death as I had never spoken in public before.

But I was determined to do my best and on December 1, 2011, I stepped on the stage and told my story to other women. And after I shared what I did, my summary was simple, share your love for agriculture in your unique way and tell your story. Sometimes the road to sharing your life-story will have struggles and it is hard work, there will be lessons learned, choices to make, and more often than not, there will be joy.

And while my story line changed after I became single and I was no longer involved in the day-to-day life of farming. I am still kept up-to-date on what is planted on my farm and that my former farmer husband & his brother are farming my precious ground in the best sustainable and responsible manner. To be honest, I floundered a bit on my new pathway in life, but then a new voice began to emerge. As I moved from writing about life on the farm, I gained the insight for writing more from the heart and soul and with life lessons that are sometimes tied to agriculture. It is amazing, or least to me, what I have learned from a wheat plant and how its cycle can tie into that of a human life.

Which ultimately leads to more stories‌..

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All faiths or beliefs are welcome.

Here are a few things from the Ag perspective that I want to share, and some I have shared this before with you, but I feel it is worth repeating. Americans have the most reliable, safest and affordable food in the world; 99% of the farms are owned and operated by generational farm families; Ag biotechnology increases crop yields, preserves and improves soils and produces healthier foods; An acre of land can produce 2,784 pounds of wheat or 46.4 bushels and one bushel of wheat produces 42 lbs. of flour, which can be used to make 42 loaves of bread orshadow.indd 42 lbs. of 1 pasta; Careful stewardship by America’s farmers spurred a 44 percent decline in erosion of cropland since 1982; In contour farming, farmers plant crops across the slope of the land to conserve water and protect the soil; Farmers test the nutrients in the soil before they plant to determine the proper type and amount of fertilizer to apply. In conclusion, please be assured that farmers are good stewards of the environment. Please do not let fear drive your food choices. Studies have shown very little difference in nutritional content between organic vs conventional grown foods, (a good read is from the September 5.2012 Harvard Medical School health blog). For more food and farm facts, visit the www.agfoundation.org.

And so from the girl who made mud pies, still plays in the dirt and can fling flour in the kitchen with the best of ‘em , follow and live your passion as best you can. Let your talents shine and let your voice be heard as everyone has a story to tell. Remember you are the author of your own story, so write a masterpiece, you are worth it.

A quick side note: to ensure the art of “being enthusiastic in the kitchen” is alive and well, I’m teaching the grand-angels the skill of messy cooking. And I am proud to say, they excel at it and my dogs are the self-appointed ground clean-up detail, which they take very seriously. So all is well in this girl’s kitchen.

Oh! And one more thing… April Fool’s Day is nearing and a well planted air horn under a co-worker’s chair will be sure to get a rise out of them (pun intended)!

*** Editor’s Note *** Gayle’s Blog IS truly amazing, just like Gayle! Check it out: www.swheatfarmlife.net

all my best, Gayle

5/1/12 3:

by

tony niccoli

I

In February we got the chance to make adorable corsages at the shop for some lucky girls headed to their first dance.

In both the LC Valley and Moscow there were DaddyDaughter dances and it was really fun to work on those little corsages and some matching boutonnieres.

One of the fashionable couples attending the LC dance was our niece Lillian and her dad Joshua. At dinner before the big dance she was presented with an opportunity that not every 5 year-old gets. She could pick anything off the menu – not the just the kid’s menu – and Dad would let her decide on her own.

You may expect a girl of her age to pick chocolate cake with chocolate milk for dinner. Or lobster stuffed with jelly beans. But Lilly had something else in mind.

Mushrooms!

She ordered a side of mushrooms, a side of tomatoes, a side of green beans, and a side of shrimp. Clearly a woman who knew exactly what she wanted and wasn’t going to be troubled to follow the suggested combinations of some boring old menu. Well, I realized that I have talked about grilling most of those items in previous issues, but I still haven’t said anything about her absolute favorite – mushrooms.

Let’s start with the portabella. It’s by far the star of fungi on the grill and it may be your favorite soon. They are easy, flavorful, and versatile. To start, lets do one as a burger substitute. It’s fun as a change of pace, or when grilling with vegetarians.

Always buy fresh mushrooms and cook them as soon as you get them. They will start losing moisture, and with it flavor, as soon as they are picked and retaining moisture is the key to success with anything that goes on your grill.

Remember – and I know I’ve said this before in previous issues but it bears repeating – anytime you give a compliment or get a compliment on the grill it usually starts with “it’s so juicy!” That applies to all meats, fungi, and sides, but grills rapidly steal moisture as you cook. Start with fresh mushrooms to reduce the disadvantage.

Don’t use much water with mushrooms – they will quickly start to go down in quality. Brush out the gills with a soft basting bush to remove any dirt first and then give them a brief rinse but don’t submerge them in water. Gently pat them dry with a paper towel.

Remove the stems – they should be saved for flavoring other recipes in the kitchen (like soup or spaghetti sauce) but they won’t do well on the grill so get rid of them before you start. They should pop out of both large and small ones without much pressure, but it’s important to push lightly on larger portabellas so you don’t crack the cap.

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Finely chop one clove of garlic for each mushroom and add it to a bowl with an equal amount of finely chopped onion. Add 1/4 cup of olive oil and 2 tablespoons of balsamic vinegar for each portabella. Mix the marinade in your bowl and then add the mushrooms one at a time.

Use a spoon to make sure they are completely covered – do cap up first and then flip the mushroom and spoon the marinade into the gills on the underside. Let them sit for about 30 minutes before you start grilling. Get the grill set up for direct grilling over medium heat. Keep a little space to the side free for any that start to scorch later in the cook so you can keep them warm as the rest finish.

Start with the gills down – that way you finish with the rounded cap facing down. The final juices will collect in the bowl shaped underside and keep them from drying out.

Baste them with the left over marinade as they are going on and again at the flip. Try to make sure you aren’t burning the flesh, but some char is okay. They will flatten a little, and slightly shrink when they are done. It’s really almost impossible to over cook them but expect about 5-6 minutes per side with the lid closed.

You can also skip the marinade and just use a simple coating of olive oil and then salt and pepper if you want to make burgers with a sauce that would clash with the garlic and balsamic.

Another fun way to make portabellas is as little pizzas.

Just skip the marinade and instead coat with olive oil and then stuff the bowl side with pizza sauce, or pesto up to the top of the gills. You will only be cooking them cap side down for this recipe with the gill side used as the bowl for your sauce. After about 5-6 minutes over medium heat, add some fresh tomatoes and cover with shredded cheese. Close the lid and cook for another 4-5 minutes.

For something a little different try smaller cremini mushrooms on skewers or in foil packets as a perfect side for grilled chicken. Cover all the mushrooms well in melted butter and then add plenty of salt and pepper.

If you are using the foil packet instead of skewers, throw in a little garlic and onion for added flavor. Cook on medium heat for 8-10 minutes on skewers, or 15 minutes in the foil packet. My favorite part here is setting up a little dipping station. Fry sauce, ranch, barbecue, and honey-mustard are my favorites, or just keep them plain if you already have a bold sauce on the main dish.

I’m not sure if you are reading this with your parents Lillian, or if you are just ordering off-menu and skipping all the details, but either way your dad now has a few more ideas for cooking your favorite food. For the rest of you, remember to think like a kid sometimes and just order mushrooms as your main course. You’ll love being a fun-guy (or fun-gal) at your next cookout. Enjoy!

There’s always room for more stories.

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No-Bake Chocolate & Peanut Butter Cookies Kitchen: Emory Ann Kurysh Ingredients ½ cup milk 2 cups white sugar 1 cup peanut butter ¼ cup cocoa powder ¾ cup butter ½ tsp salt 3 cups large flake oats

Instructions:

1. Combine first six ingredients in a medium saucepan. Stir over medium heat. Bring to a boil. Remove from heat and add oats until well combined. (You can also make this in a microwave. Put first six ingredients in a microwave safe container and cook on high for about 8 minutes. Remove and add oats.)

2. Line a baking sheet with wax paper. Using a spoon, drop mixture onto wax paper. Put in refrigerator for 1 hour. Serve chilled.

Feeling Crowded?

Lemon Coconut Bars 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour 1/2 cup confectioners’ sugar 3/4 cup cold butter or margarine 4 eggs 1 1/2 cups sugar 1/2 cup lemon juice (I used the bottled lemon juice) 1 teaspoon baking powder 1 cup flaked coconut

©CanStockPhoto/Irochka

Kitchen: Gayle Anderson You’ll Need:

Directions:

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees and line a 9 x 13 x 2 inch pan with foil or parchment paper and spray with non-stick cooking spray.

2. In a bowl, combine flour and confectioners’ sugar; cut in the butter until crumbly (I used my food processor and pulsed the ingredients until thoroughly combined).

3. Press into the bottom of a lightly greased 13-in. x 9-in. x 2-in. baking pan. Bake at 350°F for 15 minutes.

4. Meanwhile, in a mixing bowl, beat the eggs, sugar, lemon juice and baking powder until well mixed. Pour over crust; sprinkle coconut evenly over the top.

5. Bake at 350°F for 20-25 minutes or until golden brown.

6. Cool on a wire rack. Cut into bars.

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#butterchipbaby Ingredients

Kirby cucumbers, sliced into quarter-inch-thick coins 1/4 sweet onion, thinly sliced 1/4 red bell pepper, thinly sliced 1 garlic clove, crushed 1/2 cup sugar 1/2 cup white distilled vinegar 1 tbsp water 2 tsp kosher salt 2 tsp mustard seeds 2 tsp coriander seeds 1/4 tsp turmeric 1/8 tsp celery salt

Directions

Pack one clean quart-size jar with cucumbers, onions, bell pepper, and garlic.

In a separate clean jar, combine all other ingredients and shake vigorously until sugar and salt are dissolved. Pour brine over the cucumbers. Shake up the jar and refrigerate.

The pickles will get their bread-and-butter flavor after 5 days.

*adapted from Mens Journal

#basicpickle Ingredients

kirby cucumbers garlic, smashed fresh dill Dried pepper flakes or sliced fresh peppers 1 tbsp coriander seeds 1 tbsp sugar 1tsp mustard seed 1 1/2 tbsp kosher salt 2/3 cup white distilled vinegar 1 cup water

Directions

Divide the garlic, dill, and cucumbers between two very clean pint jars.

Pack everything in as tightly as you can.

In a third (also very clean) jar, combine the vinegar, salt, sugar, coriander seeds and other spices. Seal the jar and shake vigorously until the sugar and salt are completely dissolved.

Pour the brine over the cucumbers; gently tap the jars on the counter to remove air bubbles (you can also use a chopstick to release the air). Seal the jars and refrigerate for 24 hours. *adapted from Mens Journal

How many times have we heard the saying, “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder?” It’s one of those quips that rolls off the tongue so easily because everyone holds their own standard of beauty. I’m going to utilize this space and your interest to help in whatever quest you have for your own idea of beauty, based upon my experience of diving into this amazing, sparkly, frustrating and highlighted world that was beyond my understanding not too long ago.

My name is Kimberly Dawn; I am a resident of Moscow, having moved to the Palouse in late ’99. I’ve done a variety of jobs in my time on the Palouse but one thing has been a constant though the years. I am an artist. My first love was pottery about 25 years ago, though I started nail art 27 years ago…that was not love, it was sheer frustration as I navigated the world of limited colors and means back in the 90s. Materials since then have come a long way and so has my love for art. Now I do not only nail art and pottery but costume design, dance/choreography (I teach belly dancing at the University of Idaho) photography, watercolor, sculpture, redesigns of existing items to make them custom enhanced pieces, henna and tattoo designs, audio creations, mosaics and most recently, makeup and beauty designs.

I’m not a stranger to makeup, I’ve worn it since mom said I could, FINALLY, as a young teenager… and I did not do it well. I thought I knew what I was doing at the time, common for youth. Mom was a seller of a commonly known brand of makeup and I became fixated on their lip gloss that had the most amazing smell… it was enchanting and intoxicating. It was also off limits! However, I had a little eyeshadow kit consisting of two colors, purple and pink, that I was allowed to wear. As I think about how I did wear it, I feel little pangs of angst for my inner teenager! There was no skill involved, I didn’t know what I was doing at all. It was the same with foundation when I started trying that, it was a whole lot of awkward, that’s for sure. From then on it became a necessary chore to try and hide my imperfect skin, trying to become that ideal flawless skinned woman I saw everywhere.

It was a long, hard, very flawed road. The task, as I mentioned, was laborious and very much so an annoying chore. If only I could do it like all of the photos in the magazines! I know now how edited those photos were… and how with practice, makeup actually can be used create almost anything your mind can imagine. How powerful is that?! Very.

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March/April 2018 35

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Being that I have worn makeup every single day for so long, it amazes me that I’m just now getting into this side of makeup and it has become a passion. I love that my viewers offer up challenges (nail and makeup) for me and I challenge them right back. It’s a lot of problem solving through learning of different techniques, so it’s really a kind of continued education and we are all learning together. We have open lines of communication about what everyone is finding and using. I never would have imagined that this could grow to what it has in my life. Especially because not too long ago, my mother was asked by someone who shall remain unnamed, “When is Kimberly going to grow out of this makeup [and heel] thing?” I know that I absolutely don’t need that kind of negativity in my life, it is NOT welcome. I really do not think that anyone needs to “age out” of makeup, that idea seems preposterous and asinine as well as judgmental, unkind and unwarranted. If you look at beauty icons in Hollywood for instance, many in their 70s and 80s, they are still wearing makeup! Wearers are allowed to express themselves through their craft, for most that I’ve met it’s not wearing a mask as it used to be, though. It is an idealization of what the wearer is enjoying emulating or creating on their own accord. For some it provides a confidence boost; others enjoy the corrective nature makeup can have (evening out skin tone, covering what I like to call demons, enhancing certain features or minimizing others) and many of us really take advantage of the healing power of makeup, which I have come to refer to as “makeup therapy.”

Not too long ago, my number two person in the world passed away. This was the hardest thing I’ve ever experienced. Being prone to depression, I felt that rather than seek

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a remedy in medication, I thought it might be good to find a new creative outlet, seeking remedy in meditation instead.

I found that not only was I creating temporary pieces of art but that my mood was elevated and my depression wasn’t hitting as hard. It really helped me through the mourning process. Everyone mourns in their own way and I decided to celebrate his life for the amazingness that it was, rather than lament the loss. Every time I sat down at my creation station was time that I spent in deep reflection of what he added to my world instead of stagnating in sadness.

What an incredible gift to find the positives. This world needs more of that! That’s just one makeup artist’s opinion though… this world needs more sparkle! Some people turn to self-destructive behaviors such as drugs and alcohol to escape problems, issues and life. I choose to create. And I’m having the time of my life!

Art is my passion, art is my love, so I will continue regardless of what one or two people think. It’s empowering for me. I love teaching others about it, too! With that being said, I will be using this column as another opportunity to do just that! I will pass on techniques, tips and tricks, valuable knowledge of products, gimmicks and passing trends… and I also invite questions from you, the reader. Welcome to my world, where Beauty IS in the Eye of the Beholder… and here there are no rules in makeup.

Ohhhh!!!! Before I go… how about a tip, a trick and a must have product?

Tip on how to keep your makeup from sliding down your face. If you have problem skin like me, as in it’s so oily that foundation, liner, shadow, whatever it is, it feels like it’s about 7.23 minutes away from being a puddle in your lap, I’ve got a tip for you!

March/April 2018 37

Generally speaking, oily and combo skin has its own issue the body is trying to solve the only way it knows how. The skin is dry (whaaaat???) and it is trying to moisturize itself by creating oil to do such. I thought I was destined to having a greasy glow all of my days… mind you, I’m not talking AT ALL about a highlight glow. Nope, it was Crisco slick! I would blot and powder easily two dozen times a day. I found out almost two years ago (through experimenting on my hair with cowashing) that when I added moisturizer to my skin and hair dramatic changes began to occur. It was completely counterintuitive because I always thought, “I’m so oily that adding moisturizer is going to make it worse!” Turns out that when moisture is added, the body’s oil producing response is turned down.

Dramatically. Remember the blot and powder two dozen times a day? Now it’s maybe once! If I don’t moisturize before bed I’m an oil slick the next day, so it does create some incentive to apply! Now “matte foundation” doesn’t mean, “Yeah, right, for 10 minutes maybe?”…it actually does what I’ve always hoped!

Trick on getting mascara off your lid/eyeshadow. Do you eyeshadow first or mascara first? If you mascara first then you can apply like crazy and remove all of that mascara smeared all over your lid easily with a Q-tip…but then when applying shadow it casts a ghostly dusting all over your eyelashes making that carbon black fabulash mascara less than black. If you apply shadow first, that fall out can easily be brushed away but then when you do mascara, you invariably get little black spots here and there from the mascara wand touching down, much to your chagrin, on your perfect eyeshadow. What to do??? The spoolie trick! That’s the funny little mascara wand thing that you might be using to brush out your brows. If you don’t have one of those or would like to try my favorite spoolie-ish trick, there’s a four pack of little tiny brushes in the oral section of the dollar store, often for use with orthodontics. Grab a pack of those! So, your eyeshadow is bomb, you’ve blended to perfection, you have an impact area right in the middle of it from mascara…don’t despair! And don’t touch it, yet! Finish with your mascara and let it dry. If you’re like me there’s several of them. When you’ve given your pesky blobs plenty of time to dry completely, take that little spoolie and lightly flick over it and it’ll disappear! So easy! And even though the spoolies are disposable… reuse them over and over and over and over!

Don’t add to the waste problem.

K D A must have product for me…. well, I’ve got lots of them so I’ll start out with one that has been a game changer!

Waaaaay back in the day, when I was first trying eyeshadow (that little two colored pink and purple) I noticed that a handful of hours later my shadow was all gunked up in my crease. Not a fan. I have hooded lids and oily lids, that’s a hard combo! Then companies would come out with crease proof shadows. Nope, that didn’t work. Then tattoo shadow, “Crease free for 12 hours!” Haaaa!!! Nothing worked, it still all creased and looked gross no matter what I did. My solution? To not wear eyeshadow. For over 20 years. I wanted to but it wasn’t worth the hassle and having it look icky in just a few hours. When I started learning all of this great makeup stuff I wanted to do eyeshadow and I kept hearing about eyeshadow PRIMER! Oh, this will be great! I tried samples, I tried drugstore, I tried high end…. he most I was getting out of any of them was 5 hours. THAT was not enough… my days are NOT five hours. I almost gave up again. Then I tried one that caught my eye because it was only $2.50 and I thought, “Mehhhh, why not….at least it’s not $27.” And when I did try it my every eyeshadow dream was answered!!! Hallelujah!!! This stuff will actually keep my eyeshadow locked in place perfectly, crease free for 24 hours so it lives up to its name for sure! My ride or die (that’s what we call absolute top pick) eyeshadow primer is NYC Cityproof 24 hour eyeshadow primer. It works and it’s cheap, win win!!! If and when I can’t find this product anymore I will retire all of my eyeshadow palettes, wail like a cat at a closed door and lament over a product gone before its time! It happens… you, too, have loved something and then discovered it was discontinued… am I right?? I’ll never find another like this one, I’m forever smitten… and my shadow game is BOLD. How’s yours??

Hidden

Fires

Keith Crossler One would think that firefighting would be fairly straight forward. Smoke comes from the fire, finds its way out, and should be easy enough to find within whatever is burning. Well, it’s not always that easy. We had a call on one Mother’s day that came to be one of the toughest to find and get to.

I was out at my Grandparent’s house doing the usual family outing for the special day. The call went out for a confirmed structure fire just inside our district lines. My Grandparents lived in Viola and the call was on the extreme southern end of our district. So, I took off and headed to town to try and catch a truck. I managed to get on one of the last trucks out the door and we were on our way south. It’s a pretty bad feeling knowing you’re on your way to help someone in need, but so far away. Sure the trucks have lights and sirens, but you can only get those trucks so fast on back roads or up the big hills. With this call being so far out, it would take us at least 15 minutes to get there.

Being one of the last trucks there, crews had already started the fire attack by the time we got up the driveway. We were ordered to park out of the way and come and get plug into crews that were already in place. The fire was big. You could tell that it had spread to the entire attic space and was working to burn out the roof along with the north side of the house fully engulfed. The smoke was pushing hard too showing signs of it building.

We were trying the best we could to get inside the attic, but started to encounter similar problems every time we would get in. After gaining access, we would find a sealed off dead space. The house had been added onto so many times, that there was multiple sealed off areas of the attic or between walls.

We would cut into or gain access to a space. Work our way in, to find we weren’t where the main fire was. Trying another spot, the same thing. We came at this thing from all angles and just couldn’t get in to where the main fire was burning. The Incident Commander then asked for a crew to go in and gain access, whatever it takes. I was assigned being one of the smaller guys there to weasel through whatever kind of access we could get.

We charged in. Hose, axes, chain saw, a small ladder, and a pike pole.

Without an obvious attic access in the house, we made one. In the middle of the hallway, one of the other guys revved up the chain saw and made a hole. We threw up the ladder and I scurried into the heat. Face to face with a wall of fire. We found it! Smoke, heat, and fire all around me. I poked my head back down and yelled for the hose. I stuck it up through the hole and did three sharp blasts with the water. Straight up, then to the right, then to the left. Trying to cool it down enough to wiggle up in there.

I propped myself up on a rafter and got after it. I would work one end, then turn around and work the other side.

It was so hard to see that I asked to have some ends of the attic space opened up from the outside. The IC had a crew do just that. One hole on each end so the breeze would blow the smoke and steam out. I kept going with the water. As the smoke started to clear out, I could see that the attic was much larger than I originally thought. My guys helped me feed the line up as I continued into the attic.

Going in further and realizing that it made an “L” shape.

There was still a wing of the attic burning. I blasted it with water. Knocking down fire trying to get everything I could knowing I was getting low on air. Just as my low air alarm started to sound, I was able to get the bulk of the fire knocked out. Time to come out and get a fresh bottle.

While all this was going on, other crews had accomplished knocking down the fire on the north end of the house.

The water tenders were shuttling water out from town. I don’t know how many trips they made, but I know it was a significant amount. After I got a fresh bottle and some hydration, I got sent back in to help overhaul the attic space. After a couple of hours of work, we all came out and took a look at what we had left. Wouldn’t you know it, there was still smoke coming out of the back roof line. We missed a compartment somewhere.

Home&Harvest

More cutting. More water. Pull down more ceiling. More cutting. More water. A never ending task trying to find the dead space where the fire was trapped. Finally, we found it.

A small compartment under a couple of different layers from different construction over the years. I was truly amazed finding all the different spaces in this house.

I’ve never seen anything else like it in my time with the FD. This call was quite a few years ago. Before we had a thermal imaging camera like we do now. A tool like that for a fire like this would have made for a huge advantage.

We were lucky when the department got our first one. I believe that we have four now. They are a great tool for cases just like this.

I don’t recall now what started the fire. It was a devastating loss none the less. Seeing a dining room table full of plates, ready for dinner. Truly heartbreaking. I remember too, the family being in good spirits while we were cleaning up. They had each other and that was all that mattered. The rest was just stuff.

March/April 2018 42

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There are

No Martyrs Here

by Ashley Centers

There’s a story about me my parents and brother I’d like to tell. It’s something I don’t remember, but has changed how I interact with everyone, especially strangers.

I was in the 4th grade when I cornered or otherwise coerced another child at school to give me their licorice money so that I could buy licorice for myself. I bullied another child because I thought I deserved what they had more than they did. I thought I deserved something that didn’t belong to me enough to take it away from the person it did belong to. And I succeeded. They gave me their money they were going to use for licorice, a treat we had the option of purchasing at school under certain circumstances. I bought my licorice and continued on my merry way, at least, until my teacher called my parents.

My mom came to the school and agreed that I shouldn’t have bullied another child, especially for something as asinine as licorice, but what she didn’t understand and what my family has made unfortunately insensitive or inappropriate jokes about in the years since is why the other child didn’t just walk away from me or stand up for themselves in some other way. After all, I use a wheelchair and while I like the adrenaline that comes with fast speeds, I am not fast. In fact, I might as well be a turtle.

Now, I don’t know why this other child didn’t stand up for themselves. I don’t remember any of this happening. If I had to guess, I’d say they didn’t stand up for themselves out of fear. If it wasn’t fear, it was probably societal conditioning telling them to give me the money out of pity. Because an awkward, fat girl in a wheelchair surely needs all the pity a person can stand to give her. Except that I don’t.

Fear is a powerful emotion; maybe the most powerful emotion, and took roots deep inside of me longer ago than I can remember. And so, it hurts to think that at one time I might have evoked fear in someone else because I was being a selfish, manipulative bully. I’d like to think that’s not who I am as a person. I think most of us would like to think that we’re better than the schoolyard bully. That we’re above that sort of behavior. Unfortunately, people hurt others every day. Sometimes it’s accidental but other times, it’s intentional.

I have been bullied but I have also been the bully. There are no martyrs here.

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March/April 2018 45

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The dictionary defines a bully as “a blustering, quarrelsome, overbearing person who habitually badgers and intimidates smaller or weaker people’. According to www. stopbullying.gov, bullying can happen either directly or indirectly. Direct bullying occurs when the bully is targeting the oppressed in their presence. An example of direct bullying that I’ve personally experienced other than the situation described above include being pulled aside by a fellow classmate on the playground in elementary school where she proceeded to tell me I was fat and I couldn’t be her friend because of it; like I didn’t know this or have a terrible self-image already. Later, it wasn’t so much direct bullying that I experienced but rather indirect bullying.

Indirect bullying occurs when an individual or group of individuals targets the oppressed outside of their presence.

Personal examples of indirect bullying I’ve experienced include lots of staring (the worst is when you catch them staring and they then pretend they weren’t) and name calling. However, the worst experience left me absolutely crushed. In October of 2014, someone anonymously posted a picture of someone else kindly helping me get from point A to point B on campus with the caption ‘wheelchair lady strikes again’ on the now defunct phone app “Yik Yak”. This post was followed by comments such as “She’s so lazy. She can move on her own. She’s just pathetic. And I don’t feel bad.” and “She’s fat. Not underprivileged. She got herself in her situation. I feel no pity.” and “She never fucking says thank you” among other things. I obviously wasn’t supposed to see this post. But I did. And then my friends came up to bat and while I was too hurt to come to my own defense, they don’t hold anything back. Have I mentioned my friends are a bunch of angels? Because they are.

Bullies are found in more places than the schoolyard and on college campuses in North Idaho. They’re found in schools and workplaces and on sports teams and as part of clubs and even in random encounters on the streets or other places in the outdoors. Bullies can be found everywhere and at any age, in fact, between 1 in 3 and 1 in 4 people experience bullying in their lifetime. To put this in a rather frightening context, these numbers are strikingly similar to those of rape victims. The number is lesser when it comes to cyberbullying. I feel like this might be changing soon though with the continued widespread use of technology by younger and younger audiences. 28 percent of U.S. students in grades 6–12 have experienced bullying. That number drops to 20 percent, or 1 in 5 students, between the ninth and twelfth grades.

As a society, we tend to think of bullies as children who tease other children at school or on the playground and while that’s not always the case, that is how these types of behaviors and relationships can begin.

So often we make excuses about how they’re just kids and to let them work it out between themselves. Or the pervasive “boys will be boys”. This argument says that it’s okay, even necessary, for boys to assertive, aggressive, rough and tumble, and insensitive.

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These characteristics are associated with strength, traditional ideas of masculinity and what it means to be a man. These are the excuses they use when to justify the excuses of their male children when they use violent or otherwise aggressive means to express themselves in play or other ways of communication. What people don’t realize is that this lax “boys will be boys” attitude has the potentiality to lead to toxic masculinity, abuse, and bullying. When children are told, even passively, that things like bullying and violence are okay they’re more likely than those who are told that they’re not okay and have severe consequences to act on any violent or bully-like tendencies they have.

Child bullies turn into adult bullies and adult bullies are more dangerous as it’s often harder for the victims to prove the bullying. A lot of bullying between adults happens when there’s a power dynamic at play. For example, a business professional may bully his or her coworkers or employees into doing more than their fair share or performing tasks outside of their expected job duties. We see this portrayed by the media of the suave businessman and his sexy secretary that is good for nothing more than her looks; usually she’s tall, blonde, busty and has rocks for brains. Women are more than our looks. No doubt, this is present in real life as well.

In researching and gathering information for this piece I’ve talked to numerous people, all who wish to remain anonymous, who said they’ve experienced bullying within an academic setting. They were bullied because of their sex, ability, and because they lacked power compared to their superiors.

It caused at least one person to seek employment elsewhere, but not before attempting and failing to seek a resolution to the bullying that would leave all parties happy. Unfortunately, when one person or group has all the power the likelihood of a fair and balanced workplace is unlikely.

Now, if bullying is such a huge problem, how do we stop it?

Why should we interfere in or stop something that doesn’t directly impact or affect us?

Because no one deserves to feel as if they are less than, unworthy, unloved or better off alone or not living. We all hold value and are worthy of love. Until each of us rise up and do our part to stop bullying and abuse when we see it, or even suspect it, we’ll still be suffering the aftermath of things like school shootings, domestic violence and domestic violence-based murders, rape, and suicide among other things.

You can stop bullying by not encouraging violence, toxic masculinity, or close-mindedness. Studies show that bullying prevention best works when we start with children and help them understand bullying and its ramifications. This includes telling them what bullying is and that it’s unacceptable as well as how to stand up to it and how to get further help.

In addition, it is important to keep the lines of communication open by talking to and really listening to said children.

Children are more likely to ask for the help of an adult who they trust and feel listened to by.

Another way to prevent or lessen the chances of bullying is by encouraging the children in your life to participate in activities they enjoy. This encourages self-confidence, blossoming friendships, and protection from bullies.

Finally, what is perhaps the best way to prevent bullying in both children and adults is to model kindness and respect. If children are learning that bullying is acceptable and will not be tolerated they are less likely to be bullies as adults and more likely to take the proper steps to stop bullying when they see it at any age.

School should be a place of learning and creativity and passion. Church should be a sanctuary and place of worship. Home should be a person’s safe place. Nobody should feel unsafe or unloved in these places. Nobody should die at school or in church or at home at the hands of another person. Rise up and learn how to save a life.

As for me, it hurts to think that I was ever a bully or have maybe not stopped some situations where bullying was occurring. I’ve thought a lot lately about how my actions, or lack of action sometimes, affect others in positive and negative ways and I can do better. I can do better and so can the rest of you. I’ve always tried to leave a place, situation, or person better than how or when I found them. I haven’t always succeeded and I will never fully do so because there are no martyrs here but I also know I could try harder. I’m going to try harder and do better because I deserve it. My friends deserve it. Complete strangers deserve it. This world and it’s people deserve more kindness and compassion than they’re currently being afforded. Let’s change that.

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shiveree

Having Fun the Oldtime Way by glenda hawley You have to be of a “certain age” to have been involved in the old custom of shiveree. It was a common event practiced by cowboys and pioneers who had to concoct their own entertainment even when it was focused on individuals.

The old-time shivarees were a noisy and fun celebration of a couple’s marriage shortly after their return from their honeymoon and had “set up housekeeping.”(Another term seldom used these days).

This event took place at night after the couple was in bed and hopefully asleep. A group of neighbors, friends and family converged (actually snuck up) on their house. With a “whoop and holler” signal, everyone created a ruckus of banging pots and pans, horn bonking, firecrackers, shotgun and pistol shots in the air – loud singing of bawdy songs (depending on how much was drunk while waiting for darkness) and shouts - anything to make a noise.

The couple knew this event was coming but didn’t know which night so they were prepared with food, goodies, and drinks. The bride might be placed in a wheelbarrow and taken for a ride while the groom was sometimes laid on a heavy plank and carried around the yard on men’s shoulders. People still laugh about the time the men conspired to throw the groom in the horse water trough but decided against it when they realized he was well over 6 feet tall and made of solid muscle. Meanwhile, others were in the house doing mischief such as putting corn flakes or cut up horse hair in the couple’s bed, writing cute sayings on their mirror with lipstick, or stuffing surprising things in the pockets of their clothes or putting rice in their tooth paste tubes – the more creative the pranks were, the better. One couple who had not yet left for their honeymoon were given the gift of a chamber pot by one of the revelers. The story goes they threw it away on their honeymoon. Not all of the recipients took the shiveree as good fun. Grandma was staying with the couple at the time and did not take kindly to the festivities so she got out the garden hose and gave them all a good dousing.

When the couple was released from their rides, all were invited inside for various snacks, candy, and drinks. Spirits (both emotional and drinkable) were high and the party often lasted until sun-up. I remember when I was a teenager and attended my first shiveree, I couldn’t believe adults would get so loud and crazy acting, but as I got older, I joined right in with “letting my hair down.”

Shiverees were common among the rural folks well into the 1900s. In fact it was still in practiced in the 40s and 50s in Moscow, ID. This fun time may have originated in France and brought to the US by the fur traders. This fun/ mischievous time is sometimes spelled Charivarie which means, “a mock serenade for newlyweds.” It may have been a common practice in Ireland as well.

Since the majority of couples now live in urban settings, it is illegal to “raise a ruckus” like this so it may have been replaced by the custom of tying cans to the back of a couple’s car as they leave the scene of their wedding– a noisy way of announcing a new chapter in the lives two people in love.

The Other Definition of Road Hunting I’m pretty sure everyone who reads this at some part of your life, has seen at least one type of animal who has sadly succumbed to a vehicle, whether it be someone’s beloved pet or any type of wild animal. Sometimes the poor thing gets drug down the road, while other times it lays quietly in a lonely heap. Every time I drive to work, I can count on seeing at least one victim of the highway. I live right by one of the most traveled paths wildlife take from one mountain range to another. Between these mountains? Highway 95 and Burlington Northern train tracks.

It’s a sad reality actually. Something that always has, and probably always will happen. Where there’s high speed vehicles of all kinds, there will be animal fatalities.

Sometimes, people get killed as well in these animal vehicle collisions. I’ve heard many stories of cars hitting moose, only to have the body come through the windshield, killing the driver and or passengers. Elk are in the same category here because of these creatures long legs. Deer, while smaller, have a tendency to catch air and either fly up and over, possibly landing onto oncoming traffic, sometimes killing someone who didn’t even hit the animal. Lots of times extensive damage is done to the vehicle in this horrific moment. However nine times out of ten, it’s the animal who suffers the almighty consequence. Sadly sometimes they don’t die, leaving them to suffer if someone isn’t equipped physically or emotionally to end its pain. Or high on adrenaline, run away wounded fatally, not being found. Then there’s the train.

Someone told me once that conductors are trained to get down when they may hit something as to not witness something they can’t stop. Wow. I’ve firsthand seen an entire herd of elk taken out by a train. Not much remains after a train hit.

There’s a few ways we can try and avoid this. Brighter headlights, animal crossing signs where they tend to cross frequently, deer whistles on our cars and being more alert during what I call deer thirty, aka dusk and dawn. Alas, animals do what they do. Move when they want to. Don’t understand this piece of metal is coming at them at sixty miles per hour. I’ve chosen to equip both of my trucks with heavy-duty grille guards, or as I call it, a deer rammer. Both rigs have a lift in hopes to not have the animal come through my windshield. My dodge has a solid steel bumper and custom guard. Thankfully, I’ve only hit one deer. Two o’clock in the afternoon, the little bucks hooves slipped on the dry pavement like ice. And sparing you the details, I took him out. All four tires. However no damage to my truck. And he left us mighty quickly. I’ve also helped put down a moose who suffered extensive damage being hit.

One great law that was recently passed in Idaho is the salvage law. With the exception of certain protected animals, we are allowed to legally take home the road kill to salvage what we can even if it’s just for our pups. Wolf trappers may use road kill as bait. Obtaining a salvage tag is free and easy. Just go to Idaho Fish and Game website and look it up. You cannot possess game meat legally without a tag of some sort. Now some of you are probably thinking, “Disgusting! Road kill?!?!” Hey, meat is meat. And if you know how it died, whether you saw it hit, or hit it yourself and there can be something saved, it’s life was not in vain.

Which brings me to my story...

A couple Friday nights ago, I was headed home from hanging with a couple friends. It was about 8:30 pm. Cruising down the dark highway straight stretch, I caught a glimpse of something strange on the side of the road. Thinking I was hallucinating, I pulled over and turned around. Sure enough, my eyes did not deceive me. Laying peacefully on the side of a road, alive, was a large calf elk. I pulled up behind it and put on my flashers. Crap I don’t have my revolver, I thought. And I know better than to get close to any wild critter with a knife. Calling my friends Brian and Renee to help me put it down and take it home, I got the answering machine. Oh no. I got out of my truck safely, and talked to this poor critter. It wasn’t breathing hard, no blood anywhere. I see a patch of fur missing from its front leg. But it didn’t appear stressed. Although knowing animals have an amazing ability to hide pain. Then I watched it try to get up, and it just really couldn’t. Yup it was hit good. So it laid there. The most sad thing about this was seeing its friends and family’s tracks going away from this little guy. Just then an officer pulled up behind me and came over and asked me what’s going on. He ran my info, and then told me he’s going to dispatch the animal. So he did. Brian called me back and was headed down to me now. The police officer waited patiently behind me until my friend came and helped me load this creature. Actually a third man stopped and helped because it really was that big! The next day we butchered this calf bull elk. We got over 130 pounds of free meat off of this animal that day.

Upon inspection, the only thing wrong was he broke both hips in the collision. In fact, less meat was ruined by this particular hit, than a bullet during hunting season would have done. While he paid with his life, I am incredibly thankful to have topped off my freezer with tender elk meat. Legally at that.

I’m pretty sure this won’t be my last encounter with an animal hit. I’m hoping we can build under road crossings or over road crossings like they have in other countries.

Or the solar roadways project that the road would actually light up when an animal stepped on the road. Until that day, I thank the state of Idaho for allowing us to salvage. I thank my friends Brian and Renee for all the help butchering all that meat with me. I’m so sorry little guy. Thank you for your life and may you Rest In Peace.

Living With a Progressive ByJoe Evans No, I’m not talking about living with a person with progressive values, but dealing with a progressive reloading machine. Actually, there are some similarities which apply to both. Either can go awry at most any time. The secret to dealing with this is setting things straight the moment that issues develop and things start going sour. In short, take command. Ok, so what is a progressive reloading machine? My definition states that this is a machine capable of turning out a large number of shells in a quick hurry by performing different operations on a number of shells on different stations at the same time. In short, turning out a loaded shell with each pull of the press handle. The machine I will discuss is the MEC 9000G shotshell loading press. Why do I want to use this? Well, serious trapshooters can consume a lot of ammo in a fairly quick hurry. For a long time I relied on an old Pacific or MEC single stage press. Loading 800-1000 rounds for a big shooting event took a lot of time! These presses did a great job, having loaded shells which won me any number of Chinese Knives, trophies, miscellaneous gew-gaws, and even a little money at various events! The MEC 9000G is a machine which comes ready to go from the factory but I suggest purchasing a turkey roasting pan and basting brush before use. What? We’re loading ammunition- not cooking turkeys!

The reason for the pan and brush is to minimize the mess you are about to create. You are about to spill powder and shot everywhere! Bolt the press securely to your bench with the roasting pan between press and bench. Basting brush as well as a small screwdriver will be used to clean the shell station areas. This MEC is a well-crafted precision machine and comes with a complete instruction manual. However, it is obvious to me that the manual was written by someone very familiar with the machine without overseeing a neophyte using the machine for the first time. The manual states that the equipment comes from the factory properly set up and adjusted to load most varieties of popular shotshells. This was not true in my case. Most everything adjustable had to be adjusted. I suspect my press somehow made it past the setup process without proper adjustments being made. Once proper adjustments are verified, this machine will work like a dream. The only things you need to do is to insert an empty case into the press, place a new wad into the wad guide, pull hard, everything else is done automatically. This is a Rube Goldberg device at its best!

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Actually, it is apparent that a great deal of engineering expertise and thought went into this device to achieve this level of automation. First stage is decapping and resizing.

No adjustments are necessary here and you will need a thin blade screwdriver to dig hot pellets out of the collet resizer if you have a whoops moment at some point. Next up is priming and dropping a powder charge into case.

This station has an adjustment that is critical in that it controls both primer seating depth and charge bar operation. I feel that MEC could greatly improve this station by improving the adjustment lock. As is stands, over time this adjustment can change. This is really the only weak spot in this press design. Station three is was insertion and shot drop. Wad pressure is easily adjusted and no big deal. Next up is crimp start. This is a floating device and generally works very well. Crimp start depth on mine was not set even close as it comes from the factory but is easily corrected. The only problem encountered here is that the center of the die broke after 50 to 75 shells. This is a hard polymer die and is common through the MEC line. I got back in business by robbing one off my old 600 Junior.

This die has maybe 30,000 rounds through it so I would say I was just unlucky. To date, the new-old replacement has four or five hundred rounds through it with no problem Stage five is crimp, and this die did require adjustment to make a proper crimp. Stage six is a die to put a bevel on the end of the shell to ensure easy insertion of shell into the gun chamber. Adjustment once again required here.

The hook mechanism used to advance the shells and properly index them did also require some slight adjustment.

The 9000G is a wonderful machine but also fairly complex in operation. When the machine is set up properly, a large volume of shells can be turned out rapidly and life is good.

Getting the 9000G to this point as well as my own mind functioning correctly was the tricky part, resulting in numerous powder and shot spills.

I believe it is imperative to operate this machine in a smooth, deliberate fashion and not try to operate it too fast. Also, if something does not feel right, stop and think the situation through. Many years ago I was told that a single stage press would load better ammunition than a progressive, but I discovered this is not true. The 9000G will load truly superior quality, more consistent ammo.

Finished crimps are better than my old 600 Jr. and will more reliably chamber in the weapon. As well, the powder and shot bar will drop more accurate charges because the throw is controlled by the machine, not my arm muscle.

All in all, the MEC 9000G is a great tool to reload large quantities of quality shells for the serious shooter but needed more attention from the factory on initial setup. I now love mine!

BeFinanciallyAwesome.com

meet Delaney Jensen

d

creator of “Say Yes to the Dress” Why create this program? What was your inspiration?

I had heard about the Troy Recreational and Performing Arts Center through the grapevine awhile ago, but it was just an idea. I want to help change that. The teens in Troy, and teens everywhere, need a place to get away from their stresses and enjoy themselves. In our town of Troy we don’t have a lot to do, and I want to help give the youth a place to spend time and hang out with their friends.

So, why the idea “Say Yes to the Dress?”

This idea was actually given to me by my friend’s mom, Wendy Fredrickson. She had seen the idea done before, but not with as much success I am hoping for this year. She gave me the idea because she knows I love fashion and shopping. I wanted to do a more community based project instead of job shadowing. I hope to leave a more lasting impression. Not to mention many girls do not have the funds nor the transportation to get a prom dress and I wanted to help them. A prom dress event was the perfect way to accomplish all these things for my senior project.

What do you enjoy in your spare time?

I have plenty of hobbies. I enjoy just about everything! This year I have played volleyball, basketball, and we are just getting into softball. Personally I just like being on a team. I also love art. Painting is by far my favorite of the arts. And of course I love shopping, but don’t always have the funds for my dream wardrobe.

Do you have any plans after high school?

As for my future, I am actually planning on going into the Navy in September for active duty. I am in the Delayed Enrollment Program as of now and plan on being a Mass Communication Specialist for my job in the Navy. I am very nervous, but also excited!

Automobiling

across latah county by

Zachary Wnek

I remember when I was learning to drive. I had just turned 15 and was able to get my learners permit. I drove the family 1983 Toyota Tercel (also known as the Batmobile), a silver, manual shift two-door hatchback. I was so incredibly proud of myself for learning to drive; once I passed my drivers test at 16, I motored anywhere and everywhere. When I was growing up, learning to drive was a right of passage, a test of your practical knowledge and a significant step towards independence.

When automobiles were coming to Latah County learning to drive was a foreign affair, and many people had troubles learning to manage this new and marvelous contraption called the automobile. The Munson family bought a Model T Ford in 1914, and everyone in that family took turns learning how to operate the vehicle.

The Munson family lived East of Moscow when they bought their first automobile in 1914. Charles Munson understood the importance of the vehicle and believed that it would be a convenience for his family. Although Charles Munson had intentions of driving it himself, he bought a Model T Ford. Hoping to get some use out of the new contraption, the Munson family took turns learning how to drive it.

Burton Munson was the first in the Munson family to drive the automobile. Burton had been trained by the salesman when they purchased the Ford. After coming home, the family wanted to go for a ride. Caroline Munson Ott recalls in her book Growing up with the Model T on pages 2-5: “From the yard gate the road ran in a straight shot straight to the barn lot, through a gate, a left turn around the barn, another slight left turn brought one back to the public road. Papa had got the milk pails and rushed ahead to open the gates for us. Off we started flying in great style down the straight road through the first gate --- but Burton never managed that left turn. We just kept going straight with that big red barn coming smack at us, faster and faster. Luckily there was a large log lying parallel to the barn to form a small ditch to carry offspring rains. …

The front wheels jumped up and over the log, leaving us straddling it like an old lady caught halfway over a rail fence, but at least it kept us from smashing into the barn.”

“We piled out and by pushing and lifting and rocking we finally got the car back over the log. … The wheels had been badly bent and it was impossible to drive straight. So like a drunk lurching down the street, barely missing every lamp post, the car careened to within an inch of the water trough, back almost to the barn, over toward the shed. … Papa wouldn’t trust Burton to drive anymore for many a year. So Vivian learned to drive.”

The remaining family members all had their brush with their maker in learning to drive and maneuver the Model T Ford. One afternoon the Munson family was taking a drive while driving up a particularly steep grade in the American and Big Bear Ridge areas the engine of the Model T stalled which caused the vehicle to begin rolling backward. The automobile coasted off the road and began down a very steep canyon. The Model T found itself precariously perched in the upper branches of an evergreen, which was the only thing between the Munson family and certain death.

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Caroline recalls the event on page 6: “Papa and Mama were perched precariously over the void, held like a rock-a-bye baby in the tree top. Papa opened the door gingerly and eased out along the running board until he could step out on solid ground. … Papa held the car steady as Mama crawled out behind him. In the meantime, Vivian sat frozen to the steering wheel, her foot on the brake. We finally got the handbrake on and her loose and with Papa still holding the car, she slid over to the right side of the car and she, too crawled to safety. (Fords then only had one door, on the passengers’ side, in front). With all of us out of the tree top, Papa found a log to put under the front wheels, then trudged off to find help.” …

“They hitched up the team (of horses) to the car and with a mighty heave the car once again stood on the road. Vivian had an hour or so to calm down, so she managed to drive us home, but she was so shaken up, I don’t think she ever really liked to drive after that. Goldie never would even try to drive.”

As Caroline describes it on page 7, the next family member to learn to operate the automobile was Mama (Clemma Roaderick Munson).

“I suspect the gas throttle had been left down aways so it would catch good when it was cranked. Anyway, when Mama put the car in reverse, it shot out that barn (which was on a fairly steep slope to begin with) like a hawk diving for a chicken. She managed to turn the car enough so she didn’t hit the fence. Both girls were yelling “Step on the brake Mama.” In her excitement she stepped on “Low” rather than the brake, and the car with all that gas went groaning toward a shed where Goldie was standing. Vivian, who had cranked the car for her, was still standing up by the barn and Goldie was backed up against the shed yelling for Mama to put the brake on. I ran, jumped on the running board and pulled the handbrake on and got it stopped just before it hit Goldie and the shed. I reached in and killed the engine and Mama sat there, her face in her hands shivering.”

“When she finally crawled out on trembling legs, she said, “That’s it. I’ll never drive a car.” She kept her word. No coaxing could ever get her to try again.”

Failure is a great teacher. Watching her family members struggle to control the automobile Caroline took notice.

Finally, she got her turn to drive and was able to master the controls.

Caroline forged paths through canyon roads, forest floors and across fields. Caroline became a master of the machine at a very young age. By twelve years old Caroline was driving her father around the country to cruise timber trying to follow horse trails. In 1919, when Caroline was 14 years old, she set off, with a new Model T Ford, on a fantastic driving adventure from Moscow, Idaho to Los Angeles, California.

Luckily for us all, this adventure is chronicled in her book Growing Up with the Model T, available for research at the Latah County Historical Society reading room.

Otto Schupfer worked for the Kendrick Garage which sold and maintained automobiles. Otto Schupfer recalls in his second Latah County Historical Society oral history interview with Sam Schrager:

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Otto Schupfer (OS): Yeah. The fellow I worked for, Lewis [at the Kendrick Garage], he sold the first car in Kendrick to Gerald Ingles’ father [King David Ingle in 1914]. I had to stay up there three or four days to show him how to drive it. Model T Ford. And before that there was twelve cars, I think, in the country.

Sam Schrager (SS): When you say the country, what do you mean?

OS: Oh, Juliaetta, Kendrick, American Ridge, all the Ridges.

That was the first car I think that was sold up on the Bear Ridge. American Ridge had two or three cars. But otherwise, there was nothing around, any cars. Well, for years, in wintertime, you went afoot or a buggy. Summertime the same way.

SS: Were the cars very reliable back then, or did they take a lot of work?

OS: Well, if you went from here to Lewiston without a flat tire, why, you bragged about it … ...

SS: Was it hard for them to learn to drive?

OS: Yeah, you had to spend two or three days with them [automobile purchasers]. The worst thing going up hill is to get started; get their foot off of the brake they went backwards, and then when they stepped on the gas they killed the engine. That was always the worst part of it. These automatics, anybody can drive, but them things wasn’t as easy as that. Then they had to shift gears. Start in low and then shift- then push your clutch down and then push over into second- well, the stick shift is the same way yet, but that’s all you had only the Model T Ford, was just, down was low and up is high, that’s all there was.

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SS: you know, I was wondering about them cars; did people want to get them right away or did it take years before a lot of people trusted cars instead of horses? ...

OS: Oh, they generally got ‘em right away. See the first year I worked up there we didn’t have a car, the second year, why, this Lewis a carload shipped in; Maxwells. And he sold ‘em there in no time and then it wasn’t very long after that, why, he changed over to sell Overland. He sold a lot of them, or quite a few. ...

OS: Yeah. Now, the Maxwells was $850 [$16,445.99 in 2018] and most of ‘em paid for ‘em. I guess the boss knocked off a little bit for cash.

Driving in Latah County in these early days was not a rite of passage but downright heroic. As automobiles became more common, driver education and licensing were improved.

However, it is important that we recall the skill, determination, and heroism of these early drivers who paved the way for our automobiling society.

If you have some interesting stories about some heroic acts that you performed while learning to drive in Latah County, please email them to me along with any photographs you might have to accompany them so that we can add your story to our Latah County Historical Society archives. zwnek@latah.id.us