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Editors Note: RNW would like to thank Terry Sullivan for sharing his firsthand experiences as a child growing up in Bonner County. Terry, we are glad Sam Woodbury's article reminded you of those fond days gone by.

I recently stumbled on an article by Sam Woodbury written in October 2001 about Whiskey Rock. I recently got back from visiting Coeur d’Alene (golf at Coeur d’Alene resort –absolutely beautiful) and Sandpoint (Litehouse Foods and Coldwater Creek), and I made it a point to drive into Talache from Highway 95 to look across the lake to Granite Creek – the next cove north of Whiskey Rock – and it brought some tears to my eyes.

Tim and Andy Sullivan and their parent’s picture.

You remarked how difficult it would be for anyone to live on the east side of the lake year round. My Grandfather and Great Uncle (twins), Tim and Andy Sullivan, lived about three quarters of mile from the lake (just to the east of the powerlines) from about 1932 to 1960. Born in 1876 on the day of Custer’s Last Stand, they were both lumberjacks from the late 1800’s until they ‘retired’ in 1932.

Many an evening was spent listening to stories of lumberjacking on the Pack River, and the North Fork of the Clearwater around Weippe.

The “main” cabin (I am the boy on the left).

They purchased 13 acres from the state and built a cabin, guest house, root cellar, smokehouse, garage, and woodshed along with a barn. The guest house was an experience – in the middle of the night the porcupines insisted on scratching themselves underneath the floor. Until the last couple of years, they did not have electricity and they never had running water –water came from the creek and tubs in the creek were the ‘refrigerator.’

The creek is a glacial runoff, and the water temperature is a constant 32 degrees –year round. I heard a rumor that it is called “Sullivan Springs” but I’ve never been able to confirm that. Cooking was on a wood stove. “Piney” and “Nicholas” – a grey squirrel and a chipmunk, were adequately fed each morning on a ledge outside the window over the stove with buttermilk pancakes!

In order to water their small vegetable garden, in the middle of the creek was a hydraulic ram. To start it or stop it you waded into the creek and gave the dome a good hard kick. It actually worked well and provided plenty of water to the garden. You knew it was working as it had a distinct ‘klunk-klunk’ you could hear a long way away. I’ve since seen a couple of them in museums and managed to impress my children when I knew (A) what it was and (B) how to use it. I wonder what ever happened to it…

Going east down the ‘road’ about a mile was an abandoned ranch known as the “Crimcraws.” I assume that was the name of the people who owned it but they were gone before 1930. The best crabapple trees in the universe were there!

Bridge over the creek. The “cooler tubs” were under the lean-to on the left.

You also mentioned the ‘bridge’ at Clark Fork – I remember when the bridge was ready to fall in and that was when I was there the last time in 1959! The road in was an old forest road, I believe it is called Johnson Creek Road – one lane and many ‘stops’ along the way to clear fallen timber and fix flat tires. We even knocked a hole in the oil pan of our ’49 Studebaker one year – parts were ordered and arrived faithfully on the mail boat!

We, my father, mother and sisters – along with sometimes a host of other cousins, aunts and uncles – spent a week or two each summer up there in the mountains. Where else could a 12 or 13 year-old go out with a rifle and go prairie dog hunting – usually alone! We fished Granite Creek from the top of the divide down to the “Crimcraws” and never were disappointed.

Tim and Andy and the Model A.

The top of the divide (we usually took the 1929 Ford Model A Truck my grandfather had) was also where we went to pick huckleberries! Blackcaps were prevalent in the power line cutting (we called it the ‘slashing’) and thimbleberries along the road. Made GREAT pies.

One summer morning I was fooling around the mouth of the creek and spotted a Kamloop in the shallows – VERY unusual. Somehow I was able to trap it in a pool and speared it with a stick – it was a long trek back out the quarter mile to the cabin – a considerable shock to everyone that a 13-year-old was able to trap and spear a 25 – 30 pound fish!

All in a day’s fishing!

The lake was REALLY cold, but it didn’t matter to us kids. After a huge supper around 2 in the afternoon we would wait a couple hours and go down to the mouth of the creek or the dock and swim. On the way back we’d stop at the bridge over the creek and get two cold beers out of the tubs (Rainer usually), and my sister and I would run the 100 yards or so to give them to Grandpa and Uncle Andy – despite the fact that we had shaken the cans, they opened them and got sprayed, but always thanked us! We eventually learned to walk.

The evening brought a walk through the woods – with my dad faithfully toting a Winchester Model 94 as bears were prevalent in the evening, although in all those years we only saw one bear. Sometimes, in the early 50’s, we’d hike to Ada and Ben Jensen’s “cabin” on the cliff on the north side of the creek. A REALLY colorful couple – Ben, at that time in his late 70’s or early 80’s would swim from the shore below their cabin to the dock and back each morning. Ben and Ada died in the mid-50’s then Lee and Jerri Black from Kellogg or Wallace built a nice cabin on the old Jensen property. They were extremely nice people – always had candy for us too.

Whiskey Rock and Kilroy Bay were the usual destinations to go to the ‘taverns’ you mentioned and get a cold soft drink. I was disappointed that the old ‘tavern’ at Talache is gone. On unusually calm days, we would go to Midas Creek (now Garfield Bay) where the tavern was bigger and even had hot food! A wooden boat with a 10 horse Evinrude motor got us around the lake nicely – if the whitecaps were small!

The arrival of the mail boat from Bayview was another big event – the groceries (watermelon!), newspaper and mail arrived every other day. In the winter time, this was the lifeline to the cabin. While waiting for the mail boat, skipping rocks occupied a lot of time – Pend Oreille has the world’s best skipping rocks!

Bing Crosby frequented the lake back in the 1950’s and on a number of occasions tied up at the Granite Creek Dock – my Grandfather and Great Uncle had no idea who he was other than to say he was a ‘personable young man’!

Another person etched into memory was Dr. Mary Pepper in Sandpoint. She passed away a number of years ago but she was a wonderful person. She had two sons, Terry and Brian. On occasion they would visit, and I spent a number of memorable early evenings on the lake fishing with Brian – kind of an ‘older brother’ at the time.

Tim and Andy died in 1960 and 1962 and are buried in Glengary – not far from the lake and Midas Creek (oops) Garfield Bay. The state re-purchased the land for a fish hatchery, although I understand it was sold again 15 or 20 years ago by the state.

From across the lake at Talache the area looks unchanged. But, I imagine there are numerous cabins and the ‘wilderness’ is gone – at least as it was 45 years ago.

Thanks for the article on Whiskey Rock – it jogged many fond memories of one of the most pristine and beautiful places on the earth.