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Bert Stiles 95-1-1 transcription

Bert Stiles Papers, Ms 0095, Box 1, Folder 1, correspondence 1933-37
Partial transcription by Julie Downing, 2015-2016

July 10 1935

Dear May, Mother, Dad and Elizabeth,

Rrived safely stop went to bed stop went a fishing for trout stop Love Bert

There’s my telegram and now starteth my letter. I’m writing this on the dawn of a great day. We are celebrating the thirteenth anniversary of the birth of one of the world’s most famous citizens, Miss May Stiles Bravo! Whoopie! I am sorry that the trout could not be sent but there are two very good reasons as you shall see. First they all said that the fish would spoil if I tried to send them and second I haven’t caught enough to send Sunday morning I went out and caught two measly little fish, but they certainly looked good then. Later in the eventful day I walked up two the Lake and went fishing again in the brief seconds that the sun shone I caught another funny denizen of the deep and then it began to pour so I pulled my stakes and hit the high road. Monday I went up again and walked all around the place and then I got up to the inlet and climbed out on a rock by a big pool and right there was a trout that was twenty inches if he was an inch and bunch of other minnows about twelve inches long. That afternoon I met the famous guy who takes care if the boats at the lake and we went out but I only got one six incher so no net result for me. Walking home I met three fellows that had been clear up to Crater Lake and they in about two hours had nailed about twenty five fish not one under eleven inches. Tuesday I went up to the lake again and Jim and I rowed across the lake and hiked way up creek where we were going to fish.  We hiked all the morning and when we were just about to start angling Jim remembered he had to go down and get the mail so we had to start back then and didn’t get to angle. About three thirty we went out in the boat and we had great sport. In about forty five minutes we got about twenty of whom about twelve were big enough. I brought home six beauts. Jim got one that fought about five minute before he could land it. Yesterday I woke up, looked out and thought it was about five o clock so I turned over and went to sleep again and when the smoke cleared away I had slept about fifteen hours or to about 12:30 o clock. Dad you better come up early Saturday start by ten o clock anyway and then we can go fishing where ever we want to in spots it’s been up here.  Happy birthday May and don’t feel to hard about the fish because when your distinguished father gets up here he will catch them for you Mother, I bet it’s quiet around there but don’t let it worry you I’ll be back soon and tell my distinguished sister Elizabeth when she gets home hello as she isn’t home now I can’t address her directly. This is happy go lucky pete signing off now. Goodbye all.

From stationary of Hotel Lincoln 44th to 45th streets and eighth avenue New York May 23rd 1936
Dear Bert, Being good miles away when your letter reached me, I’m not close enough to do much good. I suggest you go to the Federal Building, ask to see Mr. C. F Stahl in the U.S.F.S. and he could tell you whether or not the proposal you have can be worked out. They might have a summer time guard younger fellow at some front who’d be glad to have company at least you can take your proposition and see what happens. You can show this note to Mr. Stahl as an introduction of your words and write the Denver unreadable. Sincerely, Arthur unreadable


I hereby certify that the five trout to which this certificate is attached were lawfully taken by me in Grand County, Colorado on the 19 day of August, 1935 Signed Bert Stiles

Boy Scouts of America Nation Office 2 Park Avenue New York, New York
Scout Bert Stiles in Troop 24 of Denver Colorado is hereby certified as a star scout. He has achieved the requirements set forth in the Official Handbook, and has made effort and progress in Scout service and in living in the scout and oath.

Slate Creek a long ways from anywhere July 25 1936
Dear Mother, That gal is finally going home altho she is only in seventh grade she looks like she is in 10th grade and acts like she is in 1st. On Thursday I went up to Slate Creek and caught eighty unreadable please quote that to Grandmother a good many were rather small sixteen came home with me3 I am going to send some home but here aren’t as big as at unreadable. Yesterday Mr. Stavelty this city dude tried to rake unreadable a bridge picnic well I was creek but Mr. Stavely found unreadable to be done and I got away. My shoes are out and I am not going to be able to wear until I finish my elk hide mockissans how’s that spelling. Oh! Oh! Here is the state so long, Bert

Slate Creek Range Sta 14 miles from Dillon Kremmling, Colo. July 27, 1936

Dear Mother, Boy! Oh Boy! The rainy season has set in. Rain, rain and more rain. Mushrooms are ripe now. Today I went with Mr. Stavely over to Black Creek, a thoroughly useless trip for me, ( it rained buckets at a time) and walked home, twelve miles. On the way I surmise that I passed over five tons of mushrooms; Big! BIg! BIG! Some of them were built like washtubs. I guess I best be a getting back to civilization again The Stavelys are going to have a crew of clubfooted E.R.A. men bashing in their barn and I think a couple of them need my bed So Dad had better bring a trailer and come haul my junk home. Is Bob Reeves hard at work? I wonder if he could go on the Mt. Evans to Longs Peak expedition. Or do you think Howard could go for a week or so someplace? The other day Mr. Stavely and I were talking about cabins He said that a slab cabin is very poor and more over slabs, good ones, cost 5 cents a piece; and you can get a good set of house logs for five dollars, less than slabs. Well I guess I’ll be seeing you as soon as Dad comes and hauls me home. But I hope I can go again as soon as I get there.

This is Slate Creek
Running into Blue River
14 miles down from
August 3, 1936

My Dear Mrs. Stiles,

Your correspondence the past week was conspicuous in it’s absence if my sweet sister and honorable father had not written I would have been le in this god forsaken place without a ray of light from the sophisticated outside.

Dad said that he thought I ought to stay here until school starts. Well that is all very nice but practically impossible to since : one Mrs. Stavely is expecting on Mr. and Mrs. Stiles who were the Slate Creek school teachers and have transfered [sic] to fort lupton, Mrs. Curstis [sic] and son who are also very very swell folks, Mr. Curtis is an expert fisherman and is also the head of the A.A.A. which bodes well for future literature, mayhaps these persons will all be here at the same time thus all beds will be full.  I must go August 16, but please not before. Tell Dad to come both weeks Also I must warm up on my basketball. Also Mr. Stavely already has to spend half of his time on the trailcrew and in a few days they’re starting a three and one half mile forest boundry [sic] fence which will take the other half of his time.  Also I’d like t see Dude and incidentally my home whar ah wuz raised. [sic} Over
Now for the news: Definetely Mr. Stavely is not a social lion and his wife who longs for that distinction has a hard time dragging hime out. Mr. Brown the wheeler and Dillon ranger has a beautiful wife and is she keen. I think I could cinch a dish washing job there too. Did you know that transit compass’s are backwards, I’ve found out why now.  I now number surveying as one of my arts. Our stacia {sic} constant is 2,375 chains haw. A week ago yesterday we drove into the colossal town of Breckinridge and partook of my first picture show in months Vive La el Capitan Blood. Captain Blood was super-perfectly thrilling it was the best show I ever saw even if it was the second time. Mrs. Stavely didn’t like it but boy did we men, pardon  we men-boy. I’ve been catching fish by the bucket. The rain rains rain and rains water continuously this place is drowning.

Yesterday I saw another deer a doe sure was a beauty. There is another little girl here now but not big enough to make trouble only nine years old. Yesterday we hauled eight cases of dynamite to Slate Creek. Today Smokey the packer was hauling it up to trail camp when the pack horse began to buck, boy was he scared, his eyes popped his tongue stuck out, and his toes curled. Finally I got to ride horses some. Today I took old Don home from the trail camp. Fourteen miles. I was kind of rusty but the last three miles we kept at a very fast trot and just tore into the station. Well goodbye. 

Solong [sic]

P. S. May, thanks for your epistle you nut.



This is from Slate Creek
Way up in the hills
Near Kremmling, Colorado
On July 28, 1936
Dear Mrs. Stiles,

Recieved [sic] pne pair of overall pants. Although I really don’t need them now I can use them. For I found an old out-grown pair here.
At last my moccasins are complete. Ki Yi Yi my totem is a cockeyed range steer.
My letter writing from here has included: the Lost Creek Ranger station, Arthur Hawethorne [sic] Carhart, Courtney Ryley Cooper, and Desmond Holdridge an adventurer in the Virgin Islands. I have written a poem and am going to write two wild yarns.
Could Dad wait until a week from August 2 to come and haul me home but come this weekend and go fishing. If he wants to go on the Williams Fork I’ll hike over ute pass and meet him. He can phone and tell me if he is coming.
Tell May her letter was side splitting, especially her encounter with the skagaroot [sic] smoking wild amazon.
We went surveying the other day and I chopped around forty trees down.
Whereas I hereby remain yours, nevertheless whereby the wilds call I hereby answer in great gusto.

With pleasure,

Bert ( Rod)
Hi Dad ( come on up )
Hi May (my pesky sis you remain)
Hi Elizabeth (You old battleaxe)
Colorado College
Bert Stiles Papers
MS 0095 Box 1 Folder 1


Telegrams: Keighbrace, Audley, London
Telephone: Grosvenor 6321
Park Lane Hotel Piccadilly
London, W. 1
October 4, 1937

Dear Sir,

I thank you for your enthusiastic letter and regret that there seems little prospect of any (?) ever again.


Wet and Rainy Stn.
July 30, 1937

Folks –

We are again at Bear Lake. Monday should see us en route to Grand Lake and the East Inlet.
We drowned getting up here that is our duffle did.
I had to get both pairs of shoes fixed again.
Here inside is a letter to send to Aunt Addie I forgot her address.
We got six nice ones today in Dream and Emerald.
Again I remind you to get me a Tyrolean hat with feather. Ask the guy in the store he’ll know.
I am not getting any mail from anyone- go kick Bob Herrmann and tell him to answer me.
I hauled in six inches yesterday.
Ho hum ho

Bert Stiles


Bear Lake Station
July 10, 1937

We leave at the break of day for a three day trip into those inaccessible Gorge Lakes. We have to pack everything.
Howard is not normal in intelligence- this morning he got up at six o’clock and had to stall an hour before we got going.
The deer are as thick as flies around here.
I haven’t a cent to my name.
My mood is depressed tonite. [sic]
Magazines would be gratefully received here.
I almost broke my neck sliding down some pine needles in those darn moccasins today.
My boots have to have another half sole [sic} job. Mr. Rincker is a definitely a superior shoer. [sic]
My lake score is an even fifty now.
Hi! Ho! Lackaday!

Solong [sic]

Bert Stiles


Lawn Lake Ranger Sta.
June 22, 1937

Dear Mother and Dad-

This is the toughest place to find time to write letters and tougher to get them mailed.
The fishing up here is superb. The three of us (Viney Stiles and Ranger Jack Moomaw) caught twenty six and some of them were honeys.  Viney caught the biggest trout.
This cabin is fine but the Lake is sure a dirty mess.
Dad you better hurry up the fishing is perfect.
How do you like my partner ship with the great Ben East.
The deer are thick around here. (Bear Lake the thickest).
Sunday Howard and I put out a small forest fire- very very small; but started by a cigarette.
I ate eight trout this morning. I’ll send some down Sunday with Vineys – it is almost impossible to send them other times as we aren’t near a post office any time.
Hurry up here-
Solong [sic]-

Bert Stiles

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