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Bob Graham was the Ranger of the Bonner’s Ferry Ranger District from 1972 into the early 1980s. He began his career as a smoke jumper in 1952 and 1953. In 1953 the plane he was in crashed.

On a fall day in 1943, Robert T. Pluid started first grade at the Copeland School. So began Boundary County’s great good fortune to have him as a resident and Bob has continued to make his home here ever since. Today he is 83 years old and in “very good condition” as he calls it, health wise.

The man knew what I wanted before I even finished asking the question. The part I was seeking was for an old-time Meeker wood furnace which were once manufactured here in Boundary County. Fact is, I may have one of the last ones made. We acquired that efficient furnace in September 1983, and have been using it every winter since.

Almost 30 years ago West Fork cabin burned. The cabin sat in a Selkirk high elevation meadow, facing Joe Peak. It had been built in 1931 as a “smoke chaser” cabin. Over the years it had been used to house Forest Service trail crews, snow survey crews, and wildlife surveyors as well as fire fighters. It had always been open to a respectful public. Hikers, horsemen, skiers and snowmobilers all used the cabin.

Early one morning in 1929 after traveling all night with a fire crew met Ranger Coleman at the Continental mine near the Canadian boundary on the Kaniksu. A fire burning on Lime Creek had jumped over into Blue Joe Creek the day before. Ranger Coleman and I took Sullivan, a foreman, and about thirty-five men over a mountain and down into a deep, heavily timbered basin to the head of the fire.

A 1966, orange, slant-six Dodge carryall crawled up the old North Hill. Three people and four dogs jockeyed for space. More than 3000 miles behind them; another 15 and they would collide with their day dreams. Mountains and trees pressed the road. I wondered what I was doing. Did I really need this adventure? Wasn’t there something important that I should be doing somewhere else?

Stories as told by Rocky Cartwright, and narrated by Cal Russell

Ruby cabin was the first cabin used for fire detection in Boundary County. It has survived several on-site fire towers. In addition to fire detection, it was used by hunters and trappers for shelter.

Black Mountain Lookout perches high in the Cabinet Mountains providing a spectacular view of the Kootenai Valley and the surrounding mountains.

This is a site of extraordinary human endeavor and legend. There were both heroes and villains. In the mid to late 1800s thousands of miners raced to the Northwest. In 1923, Boulder City was the site of the Idaho Gold and Ruby Mining Company. Neither gold nor rubies existed.

Historic Snyder Guard Station is a complex of seven buildings. It lies in a partially wooded setting next to the Moyie River. The Station was placed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1983. The buildings include the oldest National Forest Service residence in Region 1, two log cabins, a cookhouse, an office/warehouse, an animal shelter, machine shed and a garage.

West Fork cabin was built in the 1930s as a smoke chaser cabin. It served as a home-away-from home for trail crews, fire crews, snow surveyors and wildlife crews. It was always open to the public and became a popular recreation destination in the 1960s. It was on the National Register of Historic Places. The cabin burned to the ground in June of 1998.

The Pearl Theater is housed in what was the original St. Ann’s Catholic church. It was constructed in 1894 and renovated in 1914. It served as the community Catholic church until 1963 when the congregation grew and a new church was established. It serves now as a community performance center.

November and December of 1973 had a lot of snow. All Forest Service survey crews had been laid off the end of October. Those of us who weren’t in college stayed in Bonners Ferry drawing $69 a week unemployment. Over the winter, we normally stayed busy ice fishing at Herman Lake or helping get firewood for those who owned wood heaters.

It started with a smoke break. Saws shut down. Packs or pouches came out. Hardened hands tapped packs on a knee or delicately rolled slender tubes. Hands cupped against a breeze and the first long drag. Silence. Silence until one old boy started. “Hey, you guys hear about…?” or “Do you guys remember…?” And then the stories began.