“ Having spent the major part of my life in the Rocky Mountains as timber cruiser, packer, trapper and guide, I have learned to love their beauty and grandeur; enjoy their solitude and feel that they are a part of me.
It is there one can breathe the air of the Great Out Doors and gaze on mountains and glaciers whose never ending chain stretches into space and to listen to the waterfall's laughter. Where the denizens of the wild roam unmolested as they did for ages past, when man first came to this Virgin Paradise. ”

“ THE OLD FRYING PAN
You may talk of your broilers, both single and double,
Your roasters and toasters, they're all lots of trouble;
But when out in the hills, just find if you can,
Any kind of a dish like the old frying pan.
Over a campfire you don't need a stove,
Out in the hills, the place we all love,
Such hotcakes they never were tasted by man,
With many the thanks to the old frying pan. ”

“ Where camp-fires still glow at eventide,—their smoke wreaths adding incense to the freshness of the air.
While my words cannot express even in one detail the beauty as I see it, I truly and sincerely hope these few humble rhymes will paint in your mind a mental picture that time itself may impair but not erase.
With these thoughts ever vividly before me, I dedicate this book to the Rocky Mountains and their "wonder child"—the Glacier National Park. ”