"My brother-in-law and I were following a part of men on the shortcut between Clydes and Brittains. On this trail there was a footlog across a canyon some thirty feet deep, strewn with huge rocks. To fall into it might mean death, or at least serious injury. The only safe way to cross it was to sit down and hitch one's self across. This was known as "cooning". That is what I planned to do.
But, when we reached the footlog, the strangers, knowing I was coming, were all sitting on the other side waiting to see me cross. With long skirts on, modesty precluded my straddling that log. So, I walked it. After I got out over the canyon and looked down, I was really frightened and dizzy, but I kept my eyes on the log. At the far end it had cracked in falling and the splintered end was toward me. I crawled over it on hands and knees, and soon reached solid ground. Those men couldn't get over my daring exploit - not realizing they had practically forced me to do it.
Even the men were afraid of that crossing. While Gust's father was staying with us, Gust went to town, got sick, and didn't come home as expected. His father was worried and declared if Gust had fallen off that log and been killed, he'd shoot the man who felled the tree across in the first place.
On another occasion, on my way home from visiting my sister in Centralia, I stopped at the New York hotel in Hoquiam. During the night a bad wind storm came up, but I slept so sound I didn't hear it. Next morning Earl Whalen's mother, Mrs. McDonald and I went up river to New London with Harry Evans, the mail carrier. When we reached "the Landing" and Evans talked with Mrs. Ellingson, he told us that we'd have to stay there until the next trip in, as so many trees had fallen across the road he'd have to walk and pack the mail on his back.
I knew Gust was expecting me, and I thought he would worry. Besides, New London was a lonely place to wait three days. Accordingly, I began to pin up my long skirts. My companion asked, "What are you going to do?" "Walk home", I replied. "Then I'll go with you." she volunteered, having no idea what a hard journey it would be. I knew she couldn't keep up the pace I'd set, so I said, "You can walk if you want to, but not with me."
I started out alone. Mr. Evans had to sort some mail before he could go, but he expected to overtake me. When he met a man on the road he asked, "How far is Mrs. Murhard ahead of me?" "About four miles" was the reply. And I stayed four miles ahead all the way to Humptulips. Then I still had about four miles to walk. When I hollered for Gust to set me across the river, he was really suprised.
"I told you I'd be home tonight, and here I am," I declared. Then I realized that he wouldn't have worried anyway."