Memories of Solberg Cabins

My first trip to the cabins, nestled along the north fork of the Musslshell River in a pine-covered valley near Martinsdale, Montana, occurred when I was about five years old. That was probably our family's second vacation. The first was a year earlier when we borrowed a neighbor's tent and camped out on Smith River -- not far from the cabins. Anyway, in the ensuing year, somebody must have told the folks about renting a cabin instead of pitching a tent.

In those days, lunch consisted of either a baloney or salami sandwich, a bag of Goodies potato chips and a can of Shasta pop -- all bought on the way out of town at Ray's grocery where Gene worked. By the way, you needed a church key to open the pop -- the poptop was still to be invented. The cans were also steel, not aluminum.

My first trip to the cabins was spent snuggled between Mom and Dad in a double bed in the cabin made of logs. Janet and Susan had the trundle beds and Gene and Randy had the little red, tar-papered cabin to the west. On that trip, there was no volleyball, badmitten or other sport, except fishing. Dad and my older brothers went fishing and Mom and the girls and I walked up to the highway or dangled our feet in the cold stream waiting for the boys and the fish to arrive.

After that first trip, we made several more to the cabins as I was growing up, but there were always fewer of us going because brothers and sisters were getting married. In fact, Susan and Rich spent their honeymoon at the cabins -- which makes them honest to goodness Montanans! Camping on their honeymoon!

Eventually, it became my turn to get married. And along came two children. So following David and Cathy's wedding in 1993, someone had the glorious idea of leaving Roundup after the ceremony and heading up to the cabins. I think that first year might have been just the folks, Rich and Susan and their family and mine. I think Randy, Janice and Gary joined us because it seems Janice's Dad, Bernard, came that year, too.

It wasn't until the following year that David and Cathy came along, which led to the fire incident. And the fire incident led to the naming of the years as in -- that was the year of the fire. For those who weren't there, David and Cathy were staying in a pop-up camper which caught fire and burned. To my boys, I'm sure they compare it to the burning of Chicago. It was quite exciting as we formed a water line and handed buckets of water from the creek to the person throwing the wet stuff on the burning camper.

The next year -- 1995 -- was even more famous because it was the year that Scott and his Dad nearly drowned. Well, not really, it's hard to drown in a foot of water, but we did our best as we sunk an intertube after hitting a pointed rock. What made the incident famous was Scott's "man-on-the-street interview" with Uncle Rich, which was caught on videotape. There he told the world that the only thing that saved him from perishing was grabbing on to "my dad's icky shirt."

Other memorable "years" were when Rich spun Dylan's inflatable raft upside down in the corner of the stream. There was also the year of Spencer as he followed Missy and Lindsay around like their shadow, and the year Gary directed all the kids in an epic movie, "Where's Timmy," which we still have. And it was a great year when indoor toilets and running showers arrived. There was also the year Belinda drove the car off the bridge -- well not entirely, but close enough for me.

As the years passed, the talk of the fun we had begun to circulate and every year we seemed to get more and more people coming. However, the fun ended -- at least for my family -- in 2002. By that time, I had lost my job with MDU and had started with the Bismarck Tribune so lacked both time and money for a trip to the cabins. The year after, Mom's health began to fail and it didn't seem like anyone wanted to leave Roundup.

Like Jim Croce said, if we could "put time in a bottle", I think a lot of us would like to return to the cabins for another jaunt. However, the next time I might be the Grandpa, and it might be someone else who snuggles between their parents on a double bed. I hope all of you cherish your cabin memories, and feel free to share some by commenting on this blog.