Flying Cows

Submitted by Ron Carter

I grew up in my Tom Sawyer youth on the banks of the majestic Kootenai River in the shadow of a wooden logging bridge that had been thrown across the river to access timber from the drainages to the north. Well designed and built, the frame used black creosoted timbers, iron gussets and big concrete piers poured in the river, no doubt with caissons. With no shielding on the upstream side, the concrete has been slowly undercut by the mighty river with its load of rocks, sand and logs, especially in high water.

According to local lore, the route was built by the local lumber company and was a dedicated road, not on public highways, going up the local creeks and back to the mill on the other side of the river, allowing The Company to use 12 foot wide bunks on the trucks to carry enormous loads of logs. In my day the 12 foot bunks were gone. but the snorting Kenworths were sometimes seen to carry just five logs for a full load. There was big timber in those days, kept in the bank for a century or two. These were also the days of sustainable forestry, pioneered by The Company.

One sunny summer day I saw a herd of cattle being driven up the approach to the bridge. The road ramped up directly across from our house before it connected with the plank decking of the one-lane bridge. For guardrails the bridge has only 12”x12” beams laid on the edges of the road, and a 6”x6” post bolted on every 8 feet or so, with nothing in between, since pedestrians weren’t supposed to be using it.

Of course we did, hustling right along and keeping a lookout, but occasionally had to hang over the side on a guardrail post when a logging truck caught us en route. A road passed under the bridge parallel to the river before it began its long span to the other side. The slight arch of the bridge made it impossible to see the other side when you were on the bridge deck. This became a problem.

I watched as the mounted cowboys drove the herd of 40 or 50 cows up the approach road. It was neat to see them work the horses and cattle and keep them on the asphalt, which sloped steeply on both sides with a drop increasing to over twenty feet where the bridge crossed over the road to the trailer park. There was no guardrail or shoulder on the road, it just dropped off down the bank on both sides. As the herd was being pushed from behind by the drovers, the lead cows were forced out onto the bridge with the river a hundred feet below. Not being able to see the other side, they spooked and had second thoughts. The cattle were afraid of the bridge deck going up into the air and spun around into the driven herd. The cowboys kept pushing, trying to get the leaders started across the span. The herd bunched up on the bridge.

There was nowhere to go and nothing to keep them on the bridge so the cattle started getting shoved over the side and fell to the dirt road over twenty feet below, some falling clear down the embankment to the river. It was shocking to see these big animals falling through the air and busting themselves up on the ground. Some of the animals who fell the distance had to be destroyed later. The lucky ones were forced over the steep banks of the approach, where they scrambled or rolled down and ran off into the neighborhoods. Realizing their disaster, the cowboys somehow rode through the mass to the front of the herd and got them strung out single file across the bridge and the whole herd crossed over.