Many different loggers had logs on the landings, and as the logs came through the sluiceway they were stamped with a sledge hammer stamp, in the hands of a capable lumberjack, rapped into the end of each log.  Before this each cutter had “bark marked” his logs with an axe.  In this way they had a complete record of everyone’s logs.

    We cut a lot of ties and put them on the landing at Third Guide and I drove these down to the Spur for Boyd and Young.  You had to be a regular duck to ride these.  They were only eight feet long, so when you jumped on one, it would go under from your weight.  You had to step lively to get across the river without getting wet.

    I remember Pussy and I took a contract with Boyd and Young to move a bunch of ties from Third Guide to the Spur for $50.00.  We had a tent and made a small raft.  As before mentioned the rivers were clean bank to bank, not like now all grown up with brush.  We got about half way when we got a real heavy rainstorm and the whole works washed all the way down there in one night.  We did all right on that job!  Twenty five dollars a piece was a lot of money them days.

    I remember we were on another drive from Third Guide for Boyd and Young and the drivers stayed at the bunkhouse at John Guldens.  There were several Indians there too.  A schoolmarm that boarded there remarked that she’d hate to have to sleep with the Indians. “Red” Cunningham, who was one of our crew, spoke up and said, “You won’t have to as long as us guys are here.”  Boy, did her face color up!

    We generally made about three drives a year.  I remember the dam at McKenna. We’d get up at about three and open the dam, and then close it at night and leave a few inches of water go over the dam, and down by the bridge string a length of chicken wire.  The next morning, before going on the drive, we’d take out a dozen or more fish and remove the wire.

    What an interesting character this man, Frank Olds.  When we came to interview him we got there about high noon.  After indulging in a piece of very delicious pie and a cup of coffee, we sat down across the table with a recorder between us and he made the remark, “I’ve been thinking of this all night, couldn’t sleep, but I couldn’t think of anything to say.”  We began with a few questions, and Frank recalled story after story.  After nearly four hours he gave us what we have put down on these past pages in his own words.  It was as interesting and as fascinating a session as I’ve ever experienced.

    Frank came up with a vivid account, second to none.  What makes it so real is that Frank E. (Babe) Olds was THERE, and as he went on, he relived every word.  No one hearing him could help but live it too.