Reflecting on my childhood, I grew up in an era when everything was clean. By this, I mean our people had no drug problems and there was no unemployment.
Our parents were entrepreneurs and they created work for one another. My dad, Billy McLeod, had no education. He never went to school, but he had a good business mind. He was one of many men who used the opportunities that were set before them.
He had a ranch situated on acres of prime land. He traded with other business people and hired men to work for him during haying time. He also had a summer camp up in the mountain range. As I think back on this, it must have taken much hard labour to set up the camp.
He had to cut timber and make hay mangers for the horses and poles for the canvas tents that were set up for the workers to use.
The hay mangers were set up close to the creek and he had about four of them, which could feed around 10 work horses.
When the time came for the people to move to the camp, my dad had men with their teams of horses, hitched up to their wagons or hay sloops, loaded with supplies. They would transport the goods.
Everyone had a job to do. That is what made everything fall into place.
The supplies included equipment for the haying crew, as well as food supplies and cooking utensils. There would be a cook stove already in place at the cook tent.
I can still visualize the trek – a convoy of men and women eager to get to work. The dirt road was steep and rough. From our house I could see them, but only for a short time, then they would disappear. I used to be in a hurry to get up to the camp too.
Then my mom Lizzette would have our horse saddled up and I would ride double with her. We did not need a car seat, or “saddle seat.” We would have our lunch, which my mom placed inside her saddle bag along with water.
The ride to the mountain range hay camp would take at least one hour or more. When we arrived at the campsite, everyone was already very busy unloading kitchen supplies into the cook tent. Others would be setting their tents up with their personal stuff.
We had a group of people who were just like family, though they came from areas like Shulus, and sometimes from Lillooet or Keremeos.
Every year the people knew when my dad would be needing their help, so they would prepare for the long journey. Some travelled by horseback with their families in the wagons. Those were exciting times for us.
There would be a young man hired to chop wood for the kitchen and for the outdoor campfire. At times he would be used to unharness the team of horses, and give them water and food. Others were hired to work in the hay fields, cutting the hay and raking it up so the women could scoop the hay with pitchforks into piles. This made it easy for the men with the hay sloops to come along and pick up the hay.
Read more about my memories in next Tuesday’s Herald.
As always, in friendship.
