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. . . To him who has once tasted the reckless independence, the haughty self-reliance, the sense of irresponsible freedom, which the forest life engenders, civilization thenceforth seems flat and stale. Its pleasures are insipid, its pursuits wearisome, its conventionalities, duties, and mutual dependence alike tedious and disgusting. The entrapped wanderer grows fierce and restless, and pants for breathing-room. His path, it is true, was choked with difficulties, but his body and soul were hardened to meet them; it was beset with dangers, but these were the very spice of his life, gladdening his heart with exulting self-confidence, and sending the blood through his veins with a livelier current. The wilderness, rough, harsh, and inexorable, has charms more potent in their seductive influence than all the lures of luxury and sloth. And often he on whom it has cast its magic finds no heart to dissolve the spell, and remains a wanderer and an Ishmaelite to the hour of his death.
Francis Parkman

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Old Photos of my Grandpa, Bob Taylor.

My grandfather Bob Taylor was born in 1904 in Shouns Tennesse. He came to Idaho at the age of 14 to work in the woods as an equipment operator for logging companies. He was an avid outdoorsman, and here are a few pictures of his that I thought I might share.


Early picture in TN with what was most likely moonshine and pistols, Bob on the right, may explain why he had to head west shortly there after.

Fishing North Central Idaho's trout streams 1937.





Camping In Idaho 1930's

Making a hard living working in the woods in the 1920's.


A creel full of trout in the 1940's

Bob and his dog with a bird for the pot. His 1897 Winchester 12 gauge in his right hand that I now proudly own.

His nice camping setup late 50's early 60's.

Another creel full of trout.

Bob with pheasants and his 1897 12 gauge. I have taken the old Winchester out for a couple of pheasant hunts, as much as I like to protect it, I figure he would like the fact that it still takes a bird every now and then.


Bob became a pilot and used his plane to access back country areas such as this picture at Fish Lake in the Selway Bitteroot Wilderness 1960's.


Another pic of the 1897 Winchester, his Jeep, Pheasants, and the Kamiah valley in the background.


Bob with a steelhead in the 1980's before his passing in 1988.

2 comments:

April said...

neat! the paper is always interested in publishing old photos like this, just FYI.

Tom Sorenson said...

Awesome photos - and love the explanations of each. So much to learn and dream about when we think about life then - I can't believe the guys standing in front of those logs - they all look pretty darn young. Was sure a different world.