Rick Schwertfeger, on the hunt for the pestiferous clay pigeon…
My long trek through the blogosphere began when I joined a discussion forum dedicated to the works of Texas pulpster Robert E. Howard. Back in the 2000-whatevers, such forums were still the frontier of the internet. The sails of Facebook and Instagram and Twitter and all those platforms had not yet hove up over the horizon. Some members of the virtual tribe that grew up around that forum have become long-time friends, in that strange 21st Century manner in which we can build meaningful relationships with people we’ve never actually met.
The forum led to a stint as a contributor to the Howard-themed blog The Cimmerian, which planted the seed for a site of mine own.
When I started the Frontier Partisans blog in 2011, it was largely to serve as proof-of-concept for a book of historical vignettes. Obviously, it took on a life of its own, becoming a virtual campfire where like-minded people gather to swap yarns historical and folkloric and — best of all — blends of the two.
I’ve “met” some great folks through this blog, and I value the relationships that have taken root here. I continue to entertain the dream of a real-time/real-world Rendezvous of Frontier Partisans in some still-wild spot somewhere.
It’s been my privilege to actually get together several times now with Rick Schwertfeger, an early visitor to the Frontier Partisans campfire, who quickly assumed the rank of Captain of the Frontier Partisans Southern Command. Three years ago, he stopped in Sisters on a road trip, and in early 2020, Marilyn and I visited Rick and his wife Marcia when we were on a business trip to Austin, Texas.
Last weekend, Rick and Marcia made a five-day stop in Sisters on their extended summer trek into the Great Northwest. We did what Frontier Partisans do: We rambled the woods; we burned gunpowder; we ate meat; we sang songs; we yarned over whiskey and smoke.
’Twas a fine, fine thing.
During our yarnin’ session on the back porch, Rick looked at me through a cloud of pipe and cigar smoke and said:
“You live a very rich life.”
Daughter Ceili said:
“Yes, he does! And he needs to be reminded of that sometimes.”
Both hit the x-ring.
*
As I’ve written here, I am susceptible to growing grim and dour over the current course of human events, not least the “discovery” of this neck of the woods by a horde of people — a phenomenon for which I bear some responsibility. Like Daniel Boone, I helped “open up the country” — and now I’m bitching about not having enough “elbow room.”
My struggles to come to terms with the erosion of much that I value is real — as I do my best to take up the stance of Mattias Tannhauser.
Sometimes it takes a view from the outside to remind you that you’ve got it really good — and I do. I love my family ardently, and am proud of both Marilyn and Ceili in ways that even a professional wordsmith cannot properly express. I am privileged to indulge my love for Americana music with skilled and simpatico compadres. I have friends who are folk to ride the river with. I have built a campfire that has enriched the lives of others and mine own. And there is still solace and solitude in my woods, even if I have to work a bit harder than I used to find it.
A rich life, indeed.
Thanks, all of you.
*
Marilyn and I capped off a fine few days with a ramble out to one of our favorite spots not far from Sisters. It’s a stretch of meadow and woods that is particularly evocative at this time of year.
This venerable old pondo was probably here before the Declaration of Independence was signed.
Somebody made a meal…
The ramparts of Turkey Knob.
Matthew says
I think my life is richer from discovering this blog. I do need to go out and actually do things more, though.
JimC says
Glad that you find value here.
Eric Bleimeister says
As do I. thank you, all.
Paul McNamee says
I second the notion that Frontier Partisans is life enrichment.
The digital communities have been good for me, personally. Ironically, they’ve made me more social that I ever was, and that includes meeting up in-person.
But they are, indeed, still a substitute, ‘make the best of it’ situation. That’s been hammered home to me during the pandemic. After months of “we should,” I finally got together with one of my oldest friends (and best man) over the weekend. Four hours of dinner and shooting the breeze over beer.
I can’t even describe how much that was needed. Probably more for me than him, but that’s what makes good friends.
Life is rich, can be rich. We have so many distractions these days, they can also distract from pausing to take the moments to appreciate.
JimC says
Mindfulness, as always, is absolutely mandatory.
David Wrolson says
I like to say to my daughter “That I found people just like me.” She just rolls her eyes and laughs.
I doubt that there is really anything like this place on the internet.
Exhibit A-Oddly enough, Googling “Boer Hunters” leads to FP coming up first. That surprised me as I expected a somewhat wider selection of websites.
Currently reading-“The Northwest is our Mother” on the Metis.
It might be of interest to you that in 1909-the “Old Wolves”-the old veterans of the Riel times got together and made a conscious effort to make sure their side of the story got told.
JimC says
That makes my day. The Metis book sounds interesting.
David Wrolson says
Yeah, I thought I might tickle your fancy. Lots of stuff about “Story” in the intro and so forth. It is far more accessible than a couple of other Metis books I have tried to tackle.
I might send it your way when I am done with it. After all we can’t all buy every book (or can we?-LOL).
JimC says
I am reliably informed that we CANNOT.
J.F. Bell says
Come time for a rendezvous one day, send up the smoke and I expect your people will find their way on.
I regret my participation has fallen off, here and elsewhere. These are strange and trying days, and more often lately I find myself wandering that wilderness that lies between a man’s ears. Part and parcel of hitting the middle ’30s and realizing little by little and then all at once that you don’t understand half what you imagined.
It’s a strange sense to look around one day and find your stars and landmarks gone. What can be forged from that which remains…who can say? The line between today and tomorrow is shorter all the time. The future may be a myth.
But there’s something liberating in that, too. In losing the safety of the known you may also shed your oppressors. You’ll need a smarter man than me to figure out how it all goes. Maybe when the dust settles we’ll have a better handle on the world. Maybe not.
Until we get it figured…the crowd here will serve for a campfire fire in this modern darkness of ours.
If we don’t meet on this mountain, perhaps the next.
JimC says
It’s good to hear from you again.
These ARE strange and trying days, and there’s no benefit to trying to act as if it’s otherwise. I truly believe we are in the midst of the fall of our civilization, which means the old stars and landmarks aren’t going to reappear. I am endeavoring mightily to find a way to embrace what is and create waypoints of my own — but I can’t claim to be crushin’ it every day. If this space serves as even the faintest beacon in the modern darkness, I take solace in that. Mind your topknot and keep your powder dry.
J.F. Bell says
I overstate the case, I expect.
Good fodder for that dark poetry nonetheless.
Keith West says
I know my life is richer for this blog, even if I mostly lurk these days. I’m looking forward to a real life meet-up with you at some point, maybe Robert E. Howard Days. I’ve suggested Howard as a Frontier Partisan for a theme with you as the headliner. Alas, I’m not high enough up in the organizers to make that happen yet.
JimC says
Wow, Keith. I am honored that you would do that.
Quixotic Mainer says
Happy to hear of the good times and the continued appreciation thereof!
I’ve been dark a spell here due to the expansion of my family by one. When the time came for his arrival, my brother and I were doing a little post barbeque archery practice in the backyard, with my oldest scampering down with the dog to inspect the targets. My wife cracked up at the faces of the two longbow wielding galoots when she came out onto the deck to announce the trip to the hospital. Here’s to the rich life!
John M Roberts says
Not especially OT but I’ve just discovered a David Olney song called “Deeper Well.” Made famous by Emmylou Harris but I don’t think her version does justice to the raw, country theology of the original. Olney passed away before I came to appreciate him.
JimC says
He’s a good un. Check out Slaid Cleaves cover of “Millionaire.”
Greg+Walker says
Jim,
I’ve known you for some years now –
And I haven’t offered this to all but a handful of civilians –
But I would have been proud to have had you “run on the ground” with me in Iraq / Kurdistan any day of the week. You are one of the “rough men” who allow the citizens of this country to sleep peacefully because you stand ready to challenge those who come against Truth – and I can assure you from my own professional experience that “The pen is mightier than the sword”.
We are in dire times in our beloved nation. Keep telling the Truth in the many forums you have. And keep reminding us of the “days of yore” in America as too many have either forgotten or never known.
Until then keep you hatchet sharp, your powder dry, and your eyes on the horizon.
JimC says
Thank you Greg. That means a lot.
lane.batot says
Yes, weird but wonderful, these relationships formed via the internet! My “social life” has certainly been encouraged and enlightened and enriched by “Frontier Partisans”! As to getting crowded out–boy howdy, have I experienced my share of that. Virtually nothing–of the woods, farms and fields–of my childhood is left. I avoid even passing through that area like the plague–utterly depressing. And I have been pushed from one territory to another from just such “progress”. Although I had to leave my isolated Appalachian home not due to civilized encroachment, so much as other survival circumstances and social obligations–I miss those wild forested mountains FIERCELY–but they are all still there, just as I left them! Where I am now I am experiencing the same strip lumbering and “development” as I have everywhere else. My roaming and rambling with my dogs has reduced me to being a “trespasser” and/or a “vagrant”, but I will persist as long as I am physically capable. I have recently been going down a “Sheena” rabbit hole lately–thanks to the producer of that 1984 film having written a book about his experiences working on that movie filmed entirely in Kenya(“My Adventure With Sheena, Queen Of The Jungle”, by Yoram Ben-Ami). It was filmed in 1983, the same year I was having my own African adventure in the country just South of Kenya–Tanzania– so that is one reason the film is so sentimental to me. But the other main reason is, ridiculous and unlikely as the premise of the movie is–a Native raised white girl, a primitive tribe, and a bunch of animals SUCCESSFULLY defending their lands against modern mercenaries, and driving them out to save their own paradise–damn, you just really, really wish it was not just a fantasy/comic book movie! I LOVE that movie, regardless of how it has been so lamblasted by the cynical, urban-oriented critics, who have no way of relating to it, as I always have…..