2014 Fort Union Living History Weekend

The following is transcribed from my field journal. There are typos, misspellings and editings as there would be for transcriptions of other period journals. This entry is from the 2014 Fort Living History Weekend.

"2014 Fort Union Living History WeekendFriday, August 29, 2014

     Kim, the kids and I arrived at Fort Union three hours after school was done today. At the kids’ request we set up camp in between to “uncle” Paul’s camp and Keeta and Gailen’s camp. The kids helped us unpack everything then Kim and I got our main tent set up with the kid’s small tent attached the back of it. When we were done we headed into the fort to the kitchen area for supper. We found out that several of our friends who were planning on being here this weekend were unable to attend.
     After the kids went down for the evening we sat and talked with friends. We brought out a bottle of our recently made schrub and Dave F. brought out some that he and Arlene had made. Paul also shared a beverage. It was a fairly quiet evening and the sky was clear. I enjoyed hanging back at the porch to the bourgeois house and just listening to the sound of campfire, people talking and the sounds of nature from above and outside of the fort walls. The stars were very brilliant tonight. Went back and spent time with the group after enjoying my surroundings.

2014 Fort Union Living History Weekend
Saturday, August 30, 2014

     Sleep was interrupted twice lastnight. When a train went by the fort it woke up and

scared Garrick who high-taled it out of his tent and straight into my head. He dropped down and began to bore his way between me and the blankets. I was able to get him calmed down, snuggled up next to me and covered up.  Later on I heard some rustling. I thought it was Garrick, who had apparently crawled out from under the blanket, gone back into his tent and grabbed his blanket and then laid back down next to me. I pulled my tuque up so I could see with my blurry vision to get Garrick to stop moving. Garrick was fast asleep. I continued to listen and was able to figure out that the sound was coming from the wooden box by the door to the tent.
     I woke Kim up to find out where the match safe and been placed and then shined the light on the area of the box. Two black eyes from inside the box stared back at me. Kim wasn’t exuberant about this new found information. Handing her the light I pulled the wiping stick out of my 1790s contract rifle and began to pull items out of the box. I moved it closer to the door of the tent and tilted the box over. The mouse started to run out of the tent and then broke hard right along the front of the tent, pulled another hard right and started running along the side wall. I quickly swiped down with my wiping stick, landing the blow just inches in front of the beedy-eyed fiend. The mouse quickly back tracked along the wall, the front of the tent and then out the door.
     I inspected the contents of the box. I half block of cheese had not been put into one of the lidded nesting kettles when we put everything inside the tent. I tossed it out the door to take care of it in the morning. I put my wiping stick back into the barrel of the flinter, almost tripped over Garrick and then curled back up under the blankets to go back to sleep.
     Breakfast this morning was baked oatmeal. I know there were other items as well, but

all I remember is the baked oatmeal. It is one of my favorites. Had tea with my breakfast. The girls learned how to wash, rinse and dry our tinware and utinsels. They even helped wipe down the engages table.
     After breakfast I worked on my Indian Sign Language. I used a set of flashcards along with my copy of Tompkins. Badger and Rod observed. Others who were they asked me what different signs were. I shared the ones I knew and looked up the ones I didn’t. About ten or so of us were in on the fun, with Brynja participating as well. Throughout the day I would work on my sign language for twenty or so minutes at a time. Badger would offer suggestions and tips for making it logical and Rod would be following along too.

     Until the rain came today my rifle was with me wherever I went. Spent time in discussion with Mark Morain and Kim Koenig at their camp within the walls. They have a great trade item display during this event each year and let me take pictures. Mark had muskrat spear end and let me handle it. I now have a few ideas of how to make one in the blacksmith shop. My previous two attempts have been failures.
     Due to the weather there was a possibility that the Last Bell tours was going to be cancelled tonight, but they decided to still do them anyways. This year it’s about Paliser’s time at the fort during 1847 and is comprised of five different stations. I was assigned to the first station where the engages are looking back at the hard winter when everyone got sick, something like mumps, and Denig and Paliser were the only ones who didn’t get sick. Denig did some doctoring on the employees and as all the fort hunters were sick Paliser was the only one who could go hunting to provide food for the fort. Guy, our fort blacksmith, Collette, one of our interp rangers and myself lead our group at the first station. I thought everyone did a good job. After the tours were over and all the visitors left we enjoyed pie and sarsaparilla, and more shrub. Went to bed shortly after.

2014 Fort Union Living History Weekend
Sunday, August 31, 2014

     Was visited again by the mouse during the night. This time the culprit was a completely sealed small summer sausage. Kim would not let me shoot the mouse.
     After breakfast I sat on the porch to the bourgeois house and continued working on my sign language. Bryn, for a kindergartener, is very interested in Indian Sign Language. She would flip the cards and do the signs with me. Badger and Rod with there with us and were doing the signs as well. I was able to pass off on my Indian Sign Language! Badger and Rod were both happy with the progress I had made. Badger suggested to me that just because I had fulfilled the requirement that I should not stop working on my sign. It would benefit me to keep working on and using it. Rod and Badger have been a good encouragement as have the rest of my fellow FUMLA friends. It looks as though we’ve sparked some interest in this skill.
     Today we began to build the second hand cart for the fort. We built the first one last

year during Labor Day weekend. I was able to help some and was then called to the blacksmith shop. I was able to help Taylor with a candlestick holder project. He had made one yesterday and had given it to Kim. Taylor is a hard working high school guy who much more proficient in the blacksmith shop than myself. Paul offered suggestions as we worked. One of his projects today was to make a spoon. I was able to talk to him later today and he was fairly happy with his first attempt. Tomorrow he plans to make another one. My project was to make a pair of hooks for attaching to the ridgepole of our tent to be able to hang my rifle from. This would keep it off the ground, not someplace the kids might bump into it, but yet still be accessible to be able to use should the need arise. I have already make what I call “nail hooks” that are tapped in to the vertical poles and ridgepole to hang a lantern from and my shooting pouch and powder horn. I will wrap the hook ends in leather to protect my rifle. The other end was pounded into a flatter tear drop

shape and I punched a square hole into the ends to allow a square cut nail to pass through. I let the ends get a bit too hot. Aside from my displeasure with the final appearance of the teardrop ends, they are still fully functional and will hold the weight of my rifle. My motto in a number of situations has always been “Function over Form.” However, if I can have function and form, that is most desireable.

     The wind picked up and started to wreak havoc on the different flies that had been set up in the fort walls. The guys working on the hand cart were holding down ropes, tightening and trying to straiten out the fly they had been working under. Taylor, Kim, Kris and myself tried to do likewise with the fly over the blacksmith shop. A fair amount of particulate was getting kicked up into the air and into my eyes. I was trying my darndest to push and pull on the poles and help retighten the ropes, but it was getting increasingly difficult to stay focused due to the irritation in my eyes. I was beginning to get down right ornery and was trying to not let my frustration come out towards anyone. When we finally got the fly readjusted I grabbed my gear and high tailed it to the bathroom. My eyes were bloodshot and were in rough shape. I rinsed them well and kept bathing them with eye drops. Finally the irritation began to subside. Ranger Yellowbird commented to me that it caused him pain just to look at my eyes.
     Tonight was the night that we were issued rations. We got some meat, beans, barley, carrots, potatoes and some small onions. We could prepare them however we liked. So I made our family a stew. Paul offered us the option of cooking over his fire and we accepted. Kim pulled out her nesting kettle set and we filled the largest one with water. We would use it to scoop water out of with a tin cup to pour into another kettle for the stew and to scoop water out to drink. Taylor and I cut up the meat, the potatoes, onions and carrots. Kim had been soaking the beans in a smaller kettle earlier today. Into the kettle everything went along with a mix of spices that I always keep on hand.
     While the stew was cooking over the fire, Rod came up an enthusiastic smile on his face

and signed to me. “AFTER-YOU-EAT-YOU-ME -RIFLE-FIRE” I responded with “Absolutely! Uh…I better check.” We both looked at Kim and she said that it would be  alright. The stew tasted great and as always it was a pleasure to eat in the company of friends in Paul’s camp.
     After supper I grabbed my pouch and horn and my rifle from its hooks on the ridgepole of the tent and met up with the rest of the guys. From the distance we were shooting was able to hit a couple of times. I was happy with my rifle’s performance. I still need to spend more time with it, but I’m feeling pretty comfortable with it. The group consisted of Taylor, Rod, Kim Koenig and Mark Morain. Taylor doesn’t have a rifle yet and Rod offered to let him shoot his Derringer double trigger rifle. I’ve shot Rod’s rifle before and it is a fine work of craftsmanship, put together by Mark Morain. Mark is making me an English Pattern J. Henry rifle. Taylor hit his target every time. Well done kid.
     We did have a situation where a ball needed to be pulled. I happened to have my ball puller in my pouch so we were able to get it moved partway up the barrel before the screw dislodged from the ball. Some powder was pushed into the barrel through the flash hole. The rifle was then primed and fired. We saw flame come out of the barrel. I think there was enough force behind the ball when it came out of the rifle that it could have knocked a prairie dog unconscious.  Despite the fact that a member of our group had this unfortunate experience happen, it was good to be around to see ways to take care of having a dry ball down the barrel. I feel fairly confident that I could fix the problem if I experienced it in the field. For that I am grateful. I will now always keep a ballpuller in my pouch. This is a way I can help contribute to the benefit of whatever party I am with.
     Kim K. and I both shoot a .54 caliber rifle. We talked about how some barrels seem a bit

snugger than others and our trial and errors as we tried different size ball. I started with .535, but had to wipe the barrel between each shot to comfortable load the next ball. I have since then been using .526 and only have to wipe the barrel every several shots or so. I still only use the bigger wiping stick that I keep in the barrel because I’m always a bit worried about the rifles wiping stick snapping on me. Kim K. said he has experience the same thing and now used .520 ball and no longer has any issue. I will try this later on. If I find this works well for me I will order a new ball mould. My .526 ball mould is made by Larry Callahan. I should have no problem selling this mould to help get a different one if needed.
     We met up back in the trade room where Mark had been cooking his and Kim K. supper. The room was illuminated only by a few candles and the coals from the hearth.  Rod cleaned his rifle and pulled out his bottle of shrub. He didn’t have the number of oranges on hand that he usually used so he substituted in some tangerines. It was a nice shrub! When the Libby boys (Mark and Kim K.) were done with their dinner we joined the rest of the crew outside of the carpenter shack. Bottles were passed around the group to be enjoyed by everyone. Shrub and a few other drinks. All told, there were five different varieties of shrub that were enjoyed this evening. Shrub was brought by us, Rod, Kim K., Mark and Dave F. The joke around the fire whenever you were handed another bottle was “Oh look! More schrub!”
     Kim gave me a hug and said to enjoy the rest of the evening and she retired back to our camp. I stay with the group talking as people slowly trickled back to their camps for the evening. What an ambience it is, standing inside the fort walls, a fire dwindling, stars out, the rustle of leaves, talking to friends about days long past, before our time, in this historic place. Moments like this I would not trade for anything. I wish I could have experienced evenings like this while Kurz and Denig discussed topics on the porch or balcony of the bourgeois house.
   A book was suggested to me that I will order when I get back home. “West of the Revolution.” Another one, historical fiction, that is part of a series is called “The Frontiersman” part of the “Winning of America” series.
     We talked about winter camps, keeping warm, bedding, gear, the lives of men we’ve read about, the experiences we’ve had as we’ve tried to experience the lives of these me, research, and the places of the different subsets within this lifestyle: muzzleloaders, buckskinners, reenactors/living historians &tc. I hope to make it to the western end of the great state of Montana to camp with these brothers. This is something I should do. It is good to learn and experience things from others you know. As much as I love this area, my brothers in the western side of our great state have actual mountains instead of badlands! Not that mountains are better, but it would be nice to experience them. With regret, but boosted excitement, I as well retired for the evening.

2014 Fort Union Living History Weekend
Monday, September 1, 2014

     We got up earlier today and headed to the kitchen area to help out where we could. This is the last meal we would share with each other for some time. Bryn had me pull out the Indian Sign Language cards again during breakfast and review some more. She’s doing a wonderful job of catching on. She asked if we could do them again after we got home.
     When the Libby boys, Mike, Mark and Kim K. were ready to head out they came back to the kitchen area and said goodbyes. I look forward to staying in communication with these men. Kim doesn’t use the computer much, so I’ll get to continue the practice of hand-written letters, which, I believe, is a dying art.

     Kim and I helped out with dishes and with packing the boxes of the cooking equipment. It took us a while, but we were able to get everything to fix in the wood boxes, even with the addition of new gear. We were rather proud of ourselves. I helped Gailen move the heavy boxes into the northwest bastion where they would stay until next year.
     While Kim and I tore down our camp, the girls and Garrick played with Ranger Boothman’s daughters. I guess visitors kept taking pictures of the gaggle of kids in period attire. Kim and I were surprised at how much easier it was to pack things up with the kids being occupied. When we were finished we made our rounds and said goodbye to the few remaining muzzleloaders at the fort. When we were finished we walked back to our camp area and helped Paul load his tent and some gear before the rain came. We then said goodbye and loaded the last of our gear and left the fort, behind us, leaving 1851 and returning to 2014.
     When I’m by myself it doesn’t take all that long to pack. I’ve been paring things down more and more. With the whole family, we bring more gear and it takes more time. Kim said to me on our way out, “You know, I’ve asked myself as we’re loading gear at the end of an event, which can be a lot of work, if it’s actually worth it. I think it is.” You’re right, dear. It’s totally worth it.

-- Leifer"