Grandpa IDAHO's Wolf Hole
Grandpa IDAHO's Wolf Hole
In 1995, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service reintroduced wolves in the Gem State. The IDAHO family farm and ranch lies about 157 miles from where they let them go.
In 1995, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service reintroduced wolves in the Gem State. The IDAHO family farm and ranch lies about 157 miles from where they let them go.
Grandpa IDAHO was a 65-year-old conservative farmer, rancher, and ditch rider for the state. He always wore blue bib overalls, a pearl snap western shirt, and his black and red-orange Benteen County Tractor Supply Store trucker hat. He never left the ranch. Grandpa worked with cattle until the day he died.
Grandpa IDAHO was a 65-year-old conservative farmer, rancher, and ditch rider for the state. He always wore blue bib overalls, a pearl snap western shirt, and his black and red-orange Benteen County Tractor Supply Store trucker hat. He never left the ranch. Grandpa worked with cattle until the day he died.
Uncle Jonathan, Grandpa's firstborn and favorite son, was in his mid-40s. Uncle Jonathan was a liberal hippie, an environmentalist, and an on-and-off arborist in Boise City's North End. Uncle Jonathan ran away from the ranch in the 60's to join the Summer of Love and never left the lifestyle behind. He had long hair and wore bell-bottom jeans and sandals straight through the eighties and into the nineties.
Uncle Jonathan, Grandpa's firstborn and favorite son, was in his mid-40s. Uncle Jonathan was a liberal hippie, an environmentalist, and an on-and-off arborist in Boise City's North End. Uncle Jonathan ran away from the ranch in the 60's to join the Summer of Love and never left the lifestyle behind. He had long hair and wore bell-bottom jeans and sandals straight through the eighties and into the nineties.
Grandpa IDAHO and Uncle Jonathan were vastly different but, in many ways, the exact same. Grandpa Idaho was as far right as possible, and Uncle Jonathan was as radical left as you can get. Grandpa was opposed to the socialists and communists who ran "Big Government." Uncle Jonathan rebelled against the fascists and capitalists behind "Big Brother."
Grandpa IDAHO and Uncle Jonathan were vastly different but, in many ways, the exact same. Grandpa Idaho was as far right as possible, and Uncle Jonathan was as radical left as you can get. Grandpa was opposed to the socialists and communists who ran "Big Government." Uncle Jonathan rebelled against the fascists and capitalists behind "Big Brother."
Their relationship reminded me of a horseshoe. Grandpa and Uncle Jonathan were at the extreme ends, the heels of the shoe, but bent and inclined towards each other till there was only a tiny space between them. As narrow as that space was, every topic that divides America divided Grandpa and Uncle Jonathan. Wolves were no different.
Their relationship reminded me of a horseshoe. Grandpa and Uncle Jonathan were at the extreme ends, the heels of the shoe, but bent and inclined towards each other till there was only a tiny space between them. As narrow as that space was, every topic that divides America divided Grandpa and Uncle Jonathan. Wolves were no different.
Grandpa IDAHO hated wolves, and when he found out they were being reintroduced to Idaho, he went ballistic. He drove his ancient excavator to the edge of the north forty and dug the biggest "wolf hole" he could. I was just a kid at the time. Grandpa got me out of bed early to help. I had no idea what we were doing at sunrise on a Tuesday as Grandpa IDAHO fired up his excavator and began scrapping away at the orange circle we'd drawn on the ground with marking paint. Grandpa dug and dug as the old excavator groaned under the strain. Its exhaust turned dark grey, then black, and you could smell burning diesel and hydraulic oil.
Grandpa IDAHO hated wolves, and when he found out they were being reintroduced to Idaho, he went ballistic. He drove his ancient excavator to the edge of the north forty and dug the biggest "wolf hole" he could. I was just a kid at the time. Grandpa got me out of bed early to help. I had no idea what we were doing at sunrise on a Tuesday as Grandpa IDAHO fired up his excavator and began scrapping away at the orange circle we'd drawn on the ground with marking paint. Grandpa dug and dug as the old excavator groaned under the strain. Its exhaust turned dark grey, then black, and you could smell burning diesel and hydraulic oil.
When I asked him what the giant hole was for, Grandpa said, "The IDAHOs won't stand for wolves, Joe. Any wolf that comes on our ranch will be shot on sight, buried in the bottom of this hole, and I won't ever tell anybody. We shoot, shovel, and shut up in this family."
When I asked him what the giant hole was for, Grandpa said, "The IDAHOs won't stand for wolves, Joe. Any wolf that comes on our ranch will be shot on sight, buried in the bottom of this hole, and I won't ever tell anybody. We shoot, shovel, and shut up in this family."
Uncle Jonathan had this old blue hippie van he drove around in. For two decades, it was covered in flowers and peace symbols. Eventually, they faded away, but their outlines and impressions remained. My dad told me Uncle Jonathan was Grandpa's prodigal son on a rotation. Uncle Jonathan's blue van reappeared at the ranch every five to ten years. His return always coincided with a misfortune in his life. He and Grandpa would try to work things out, but eventually, Uncle Jonathan would take off again, and we'd seen him in another five to ten years.
Uncle Jonathan had this old blue hippie van he drove around in. For two decades, it was covered in flowers and peace symbols. Eventually, they faded away, but their outlines and impressions remained. My dad told me Uncle Jonathan was Grandpa's prodigal son on a rotation. Uncle Jonathan's blue van reappeared at the ranch every five to ten years. His return always coincided with a misfortune in his life. He and Grandpa would try to work things out, but eventually, Uncle Jonathan would take off again, and we'd seen him in another five to ten years.
Uncle Jonathan and his blue van were back on the ranch when Grandpa dug the wolf hole in 1995. He had a falling out with his most recent partner. They packed up the kids and headed for Seattle. So Uncle Jonathan closed up his tree trimming service in Boise City, loaded up his hippie van, and returned home to the ranch.
Uncle Jonathan and his blue van were back on the ranch when Grandpa dug the wolf hole in 1995. He had a falling out with his most recent partner. They packed up the kids and headed for Seattle. So Uncle Jonathan closed up his tree trimming service in Boise City, loaded up his hippie van, and returned home to the ranch.
When he found out about the wolf hole, Uncle Jonathan had me show him where it was down in the trees at the edge of the north forty. We raced to the spot in his blue beat-up old hippie van. Uncle Jonathan got out, stared into the pit, and shook his head. He looked horrified. He loved all animals, especially wolves. Looking into the wide deep hole, Uncle Jonathan said, "Grandpa is insane. I'm going to fill this in. C'mon, Joe."
When he found out about the wolf hole, Uncle Jonathan had me show him where it was down in the trees at the edge of the north forty. We raced to the spot in his blue beat-up old hippie van. Uncle Jonathan got out, stared into the pit, and shook his head. He looked horrified. He loved all animals, especially wolves. Looking into the wide deep hole, Uncle Jonathan said, "Grandpa is insane. I'm going to fill this in. C'mon, Joe."
We drove to Grandpa's tin-roofed tractor shop at the edge of the bean field. His ancient excavator was sitting outside. Uncle Jonathan got out of his hippie van and started checking for the keys. He looked in the excavator's glove box and under the crumbling seat but with no luck.
We drove to Grandpa's tin-roofed tractor shop at the edge of the bean field. His ancient excavator was sitting outside. Uncle Jonathan got out of his hippie van and started checking for the keys. He looked in the excavator's glove box and under the crumbling seat but with no luck.
Grandpa pulled up in his old pickup. He got out and said, "What you boys, doin' here? Daylight's burnin'. Jonathan, shouldn't you be changin' water on the beans."
Grandpa pulled up in his old pickup. He got out and said, "What you boys, doin' here? Daylight's burnin'. Jonathan, shouldn't you be changin' water on the beans."
"Where's the excavator key?"
"Where's the excavator key?"
"What ya need 'em for?"
"What ya need 'em for?"
"I'm takin' the excavator. I'm goin' to fill in that damn wolf hole, Dad."
"I'm takin' the excavator. I'm goin' to fill in that damn wolf hole, Dad."
"Thunder and lightin' you will," snapped Grandpa. Grandma IDAHO had forbidden Grandpa from cursing. She made him use replacement terms.
"Thunder and lightin' you will," snapped Grandpa. Grandma IDAHO had forbidden Grandpa from cursing. She made him use replacement terms.
"You can't be serious about shooting wolves. There hasn't been a wolf on the ranch in a hundred years."
"You can't be serious about shooting wolves. There hasn't been a wolf on the ranch in a hundred years."
"I'm goin' t' keep it that way, son."
"I'm goin' t' keep it that way, son."
"Killing wolves is illegal. They're endangered. They'll arrest you."
"Killing wolves is illegal. They're endangered. They'll arrest you."
"Nobody will ever find the wolves I shoot."
"Nobody will ever find the wolves I shoot."
"You have enough animals to kill, Dad. Wolves are part of the ecosystem. They'll keep deer and elk in check. Maybe people won't hit so many out on the highway."
"You have enough animals to kill, Dad. Wolves are part of the ecosystem. They'll keep deer and elk in check. Maybe people won't hit so many out on the highway."
"Blasted, Jonathan. You're insane. All wolves do is kill. They'll tear the cows apart. We can't afford to lose any." Grandpa pointed at me, "What if they attack one of the grandkids?"
"Blasted, Jonathan. You're insane. All wolves do is kill. They'll tear the cows apart. We can't afford to lose any." Grandpa pointed at me, "What if they attack one of the grandkids?"
Uncle Jonathan threw up his hands, "Dad, seriously? The kids and cows will be fine. It's more likely someone will trip and fall into that stupid hole."
Uncle Jonathan threw up his hands, "Dad, seriously? The kids and cows will be fine. It's more likely someone will trip and fall into that stupid hole."
Grandpa IDAHO's face flushed red. "I'm not risking our livelihood for some damn wolves. I'll kill 'em all. It's my right!"
Grandpa IDAHO's face flushed red. "I'm not risking our livelihood for some damn wolves. I'll kill 'em all. It's my right!"
Uncle Jonathan's face turned just as red as Grandpa's. "Wolves have a right to exist, you fascist!"
Uncle Jonathan's face turned just as red as Grandpa's. "Wolves have a right to exist, you fascist!"
Grandpa pushed back his old black and red-orange trucker hat, "Hells bells, they do, you communist!" he yelled.
Grandpa pushed back his old black and red-orange trucker hat, "Hells bells, they do, you communist!" he yelled.
Both men exploded with rage. Standing by Uncle Jonathan's old blue hippie van, I watched them roar and growl at each other in front of the ancient excavator. All the disappointments, grievances, and misunderstandings of a lifetime of being at odds burst out of them. Grandpa's and Uncle Jonathan's battle over wolves was the latest atrocity committed in their long war. They screamed insults and accusations at each other and clenched their fists.
Both men exploded with rage. Standing by Uncle Jonathan's old blue hippie van, I watched them roar and growl at each other in front of the ancient excavator. All the disappointments, grievances, and misunderstandings of a lifetime of being at odds burst out of them. Grandpa's and Uncle Jonathan's battle over wolves was the latest atrocity committed in their long war. They screamed insults and accusations at each other and clenched their fists.
Out of invective, Grandpa IDAHO and Uncle Jonathan stood face-to-face huffing and puffing for air, their eyes locked in a fierce unyielding stare, noses almost touching. They looked so much alike that it was like watching an old man about to come to blows with a middle-aged alternate-reality version of himself. The air crackled with tension as father and son glared at each other, neither willing to back down. Then, just as quickly as it had started, the tension dissipated. Their fists unclenched, and each man turned and walked away. Grandpa and Uncle Jonathan had fist fought in the past, long before I was born, but they were both too old for it now.
Out of invective, Grandpa IDAHO and Uncle Jonathan stood face-to-face huffing and puffing for air, their eyes locked in a fierce unyielding stare, noses almost touching. They looked so much alike that it was like watching an old man about to come to blows with a middle-aged alternate-reality version of himself. The air crackled with tension as father and son glared at each other, neither willing to back down. Then, just as quickly as it had started, the tension dissipated. Their fists unclenched, and each man turned and walked away. Grandpa and Uncle Jonathan had fist fought in the past, long before I was born, but they were both too old for it now.
With a heavy sigh, Uncle Jonathan got into this old blue hippie van and drove off. Grandpa IDAHO waved a hand in dismissal, shooing the old van away. He grumbled and then headed into his tractor shop. The next morning, Uncle Jonathan headed back to Boise City, and we didn't see him again for another decade.
With a heavy sigh, Uncle Jonathan got into this old blue hippie van and drove off. Grandpa IDAHO waved a hand in dismissal, shooing the old van away. He grumbled and then headed into his tractor shop. The next morning, Uncle Jonathan headed back to Boise City, and we didn't see him again for another decade.
Grandpa IDAHO never used his wolf hole. After a few years, it became the family's unofficial dump. Grandpa got so angry he drove his ancient excavator to the edge of the north forty to clear it out. Before he could, the machine broke down on him and hasn't moved since.
Grandpa IDAHO never used his wolf hole. After a few years, it became the family's unofficial dump. Grandpa got so angry he drove his ancient excavator to the edge of the north forty to clear it out. Before he could, the machine broke down on him and hasn't moved since.
During one of his later rotations to the ranch, Uncle Jonathan's old blue hippie van finally quit running. He towed it down to the trees with plans to restore it someday. He never did, and now it sits rusting and crumbling next to Grandpa's excavator at the edge of the wolf hole.
During one of his later rotations to the ranch, Uncle Jonathan's old blue hippie van finally quit running. He towed it down to the trees with plans to restore it someday. He never did, and now it sits rusting and crumbling next to Grandpa's excavator at the edge of the wolf hole.
