The book is based on actual events.
Big Springs, one of the largest fresh-water springs in the world, becomes a place of clarity and new beginnings for a troubled WWI veteran and the beautiful young woman with whom he falls in love. The story unfolds in the rugged, isolated mountains of the Yellowstone/Teton wilderness area just prior to the Great Depression.
The young man, and a charismatic businessman, who pulls him from the river, together build a business that modernizes the moribund world of raising and fleecing sheep.
It's a story of tragedy and loss, perseverance and determination, love, redemption and second chances, set in the caldera of an ancient volcano that buried thousand of acres in hot molten lava millions of years ago, now restored to its natural beauty and peace.
The book is based on actual events.
Big Springs, one of the largest fresh-water springs in the world, becomes a place of clarity and new beginnings for a troubled WWI veteran and the beautiful young woman with whom he falls in love. The story unfolds in the rugged, isolated mountains of the Yellowstone/Teton wilderness area just prior to the Great Depression.
The young man, and a charismatic businessman, who pulls him from the river, together build a business that modernizes the moribund world of raising and fleecing sheep.
It's a story of tragedy and loss, perseverance and determination, love, redemption and second chances, set in the caldera of an ancient volcano that buried thousand of acres in hot molten lava millions of years ago, now restored to its natural beauty and peace.
A three hundred pound log brushed the top of my hair, no time to duck or jump out of the way. The adrenaline-fueled, fear-driven moment might well have been a lightning bolt or a hummingbird touching down and changing directions. Thatâs how much time there was to make a decision about the rest of my life.
Starting a new career at age forty, logging wasnât my first choice.
Serving in France during World War I meant an exemption from fighting Hitler or Yamamoto as our country was drawn into war again. Logging was deemed a critical industry. Living in the wilderness, cutting pine trees that would become railroad ties, had some allure. Railroad expansion seemed a noble cause. Mountain living was inviting, familiar.
It was a second, or third, or maybe even sixth career choice. Fish-gutter, sheep shearer, working forest fire lines, and bricklaying dotted my resume if Iâd ever had a resume. Now, living in a tent again, the pine and cedar forests of Montana were welcoming.
Weâd been cutting for a month, a couple of thousand trees stacked horizontally waiting for their ride down the mountain on massive flat- bed trucks. Hundreds of tons of raw timber looked like a giant pyramid made of logs instead of cut stone.
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Red Borrowman stood just to my right, both of us tasked by the fore- man to assist with the dangerous chore of loading logs. Red had been a close friend for fifteen years. Sheep shearing in the Island Park region of the Yellowstone Wilderness area brought us together years ago, and here we are back together, our lives filled with hard labor, mud, sawdust in our eyes and ears, crust around our nostrils, and the constant buzz of saws.
One of a dozen empty flatbed trucks arrived ready for its load. The narrow mountain road suddenly gave way on the south edge and slid awkwardly into the pyramid, a couple of tons of truck pushing against the logs, seconds away from breaking the giant straps holding them in place.
A belt popped like a cannon firing. Logs came flying.
Three or four options flashed through my mind in a millisecond. First, we were about to die. The weight of the logs would crush us instantly. Second, jump away as far as possible and hope. Third, push Red out of the way. None of these seemed much of an option given the way those logs started bouncing like they were made of rubber instead of pine. The sound it made was like my head inside a tympani drum during Beethovenâs Fifth.
In less time than a single synapse firing, saving Red somehow made the most sense. Taking one quick step toward the big man, putting my entire weight into his backside, we rolled away from the pile.
Thatâs when the gnarly bark, still clinging to the log, brushed my head and took my hat with it. It lightly touched me as a few hundred others thundered down the steep slope. They took out every living thing in their path. Everything, that is, except me and Red.
Red had two shattered elbows from the fall and my weight on top of
him as we both went down. Heâd lovingly remind me how those broken elbows sent him to a desk job for the rest of his days.
Some fifty years later, the events of that moment, that brush with death, still haunt me. How was it possible that my otherwise below-average reflexes kicked in, enabling such quick movement? Red Borrow- man was still alive. We were both still alive. When you go looking for reasons why these things happen you usually end up down a very dark alley. Dead end. I long ago stopped looking. It just happened.
The only thing that makes sense is that it was my turn to pull some- one away from danger the way a good friend pulled me out of trouble, out of a river, many years earlier. The log incident wasnât my only brush with death.
Saving Redâs life seemed a chance to repay a couple of debts. Who- ever is in charge of brushes with death, or whoever passes out gifts from the second chance department, has been generous. At 6 a.m., all alone watching the sunrise, those gifts are a heavy load. A tender touch.Â
Set in the mountainous terrain of Idaho and Montana, Big Springs is the tale of lost men looking for a place in life. Carrying meagre possessions, they go where the windâand the jobsâtake them, combining a simple life of fishing and sheep shearing with singing, dancing, and courting. All of this accompanied, of course, with the obligatory beer-drinkingâŚ(Who cares about Prohibition, anyway?!)
The book is based on the life of author Mark Hurstâs grandfather, using his written factual accounts to create a more embellished tale. An unassuming, yet inspirational, man, Creighton Hurst did what many of us dream of doing: working for ourselves, and making our own luck!
So intimidated by Steinbeckâs Grapes of Wrath that he delayed writing the book for thirty years, Hurst finally plucked up the courage to commit it to paper during the pandemic. Whilst the story is slower-paced than the fiction I normally prefer, it was still faster-paced and more gripping than Steinbeck, in this reviewerâs opinion! What makes it even more phenomenal is the fact that Hurst has Parkinsonâs disease, so writing the book could have not been an easy feat.Â
Written in a simple manner, we are taken into a 90-year-old manâs stream of consciousness as he is interviewed by his grandson about his sheep-shearing days before and during the Great Depression. Having spent time in the trenches of WWI France, we see how the protagonist, Tripp, struggles to find his path in life. Death and tragedy are commonplace occurrences in a nomadâs life, as are poverty, alcoholism, and unemployment. Not holding back, Tripp tells it as it is.Â
Possibly inspired by the authorâs time spent with his own grandfather, it is heartwarming to see Tripp connecting with his grandson throughout the interviews, acting as a reminder to us all that we should cherish moments with the ones we love whilst we still can. The narratorâs monologues can be abrupt and erratic in places, whilst rambling in others, making it perfectly plausible to be a real person telling his life story off the top of his head. The fact that we hear of Tripp needing to âadjustâ himself or go for a bathroom break at regular intervals also adds an element of reality, helping us to believe that he is, indeed, an elderly man.
The theme of technology is strong throughout Big Springs. Despite being set when the most basic technology was only getting started, the story is still very relevant to a 21st-century reader in revealing how technology changes the worldâwhether for good or ill, the reader can decide. It was endearing to see how the main character marvelled at simple things such as seeing denim, or eating a hamburger, for the first time; and yet, were we any different when we saw the first mobile phones, or heard that we can now grow meat in labs without slaughtering animals? Big Springs causes the reader to reflect upon this theme, and puts a bit of perspective on our own privileges in life.Â
Overall, the book is thought-provoking and moving; uplifting at times, whilst hitting issues close to the chest in others. A recommended read for anyone who enjoys a vividly-painted tale of Depression-era America, where characters deal with loves and losses, physical and mental health issues, and the desire to find somewhere they can truly feel at home. You may even learn a bit about sheep-shearing along the way!