“Just a Story of what made me who I am today”

Diane Bohna Crisp

Writing a biography, I bet this is the number one hardest thing I have ever had to write… But here it goes, my name is Diane Bohna Crisp and I was born in Coarsegold, California many, many years ago. My life as a child was made up of working with my

Father, Henry Bohna, on our cattle ranch and going to school. We drove our cattle 7 days cross country from 1500 feet elevation up to our mountain USFS permit at 8,000 -11,000ft. This may not sound like much, but I am sure this lifestyle is what has made me who I am today. The life’s lessons such as determination and to never give up no matter how hard things get….

This was instilled in me to the core the year 5 cows and 7 yearlings decided to stay behind in the mountains. The first storm of the year came in the beginning of November and it was a bad one, record amount of snowfall for that time of year. This was good news for the ski resorts but not such good news for the cattle stranded in a blizzard near Portal For Bay. We got the call one afternoon that a snowshoe cross-country hiker had spotted the cattle and they did not look good. My Father went to work instantly on the phone and hired a Helicopter Co. for the next day to take hay to the hungry cattle. So off my Father, brother Tom and a very capable pilot flew with 6 bales of hay swinging from the belly of the mechanical bird. When they arrived at the frozen winter wonder land they realized the cattle had been attempting to get out of the high country, but had gotten stranded under a big fir tree near Portal For Bay, climbing towards the top of Kaiser Pass, 10,000 feet. They had eaten everything they could get to in the 8-9feet of snow that had made a solid fence around them and there biggest need was water. My brother Tom started the task of shoveling snow; he dug and dug to make a passageway to the nearest creek. With every inch he came closer to the creek, the cattle would stay right behind him, step by step. What a feeling to see the cattle drink their fill after needing water so very badly. The cattle were still in tough shape from lack of nutrition and hydration and so my father made the decision to feed them good for a few days to let them regain their strength.

I remember talking with my Father and we knew it would be a tough trek to get the cattle over the pass and down the other side of the mountain to Hunington Lake with such a deep snow pack. My Father contacted a friend with a snow cat in Hunington and so it was set he would take my Father, myself and my dog Shorty back the 20 miles of snowy road to where the cattle were waiting. We got up at 2:00 a.m. and loaded the cattle truck with Shorty, lots of warm clothes and some food my mother prepared for us and we headed to Hunington Lake. We got there at 6:00 a.m. and the snow cat was all warmed up so we loaded up in it and off we went. Something told me to take a little nap, so I did, and when I woke up I was looking at one of the most beautiful sights I had ever seen; Portal For Bay covered in glissining ice crystals that sparkled under the cool morning sun and the snow capped Sierras in the back ground made for a wonder of natures views. We arrived at the cattle and they were pleased to see us, so with no wasting of time we broke the snow down near the creek so the cattle could come out to the road. This is when we learned our true challenge; the cattle, especially the cows, where to heavy to stay above the snow and could not travel the road in the tracks of the snow cat. The first cow with her ears nearly frost bitten off stepped off the road and was up to her belly in snow and could not move. We put our heads together and decided we could dig a trench down to her, back our little trailer under her and we would have to haul her out behind the snow cat. So this is exactly what we did after some persuasion and ropes to tie her down securely to the trailer, off drove my Father and our friend towards Hunington Lake. My Fathers words came to me as I started to take the cattle on the road, “Sometimes slowest is fastest”, so very slowly I started the cattle. I did not get far and the next cow was down, so I waited for my Fathers return and we dug our trench and secured her down to the trailer as well, and off they went again. I only made it about 1 mile with the cows stopping me as they would become stranded and I would wait for their chariot to arrive back to take them to safety. It was about 4:00 p.m. when the last cow was loaded and I waved goodbye to my Dad, who said he would be back as soon as he could.

The yearlings traveled better and had learned to stay in the packed tracks of the snow cat and when one would fumble they were agile enough to get there footing back. I don’t know that the fact that the snow was starting to freeze harder might have had a little to do with this, but I was just happy to be traveling. I tried the snowshoes in the beginning but after one-to-many headers, I decided I would have better luck with my boots, so on I went. I soon noticed the sun was sinking low in the west and I knew night was on its way. I pulled out my camera (disposable at that time) and I held it out as far from me as I could and I took a picture of my face with the sunset in the distance, so people would know I made it until dark fell over the mountains. My dog Shorty kept me company when we would sit in the snow and watch the planes fly by, figuring that they were maybe 30 minutes apart and this helped me keep track of time. We kept going and the darkness was harsh in the tall forest thick with strong healthy pines, and I was never so happy to watch the full moon rise that night. This is when I saw my next wonder of that day as the moon shone her glory down on the snow which radiated light back and it was truly a site to behold, it was just like daylight and it made traveling much easier. I approached the top of Kaiser Pass and I could I could hear the wind picking up and beginning to howl over the snow. I wondered if my Father was ok, it had been a really long time since I had seen him…. Nonetheless I kept on and when I made it to the top I looked, with the light of the moon, at a little thermometer my friend had loaned me, and it said 15 degrees, and I wondered what the wind chill factor combination was. I remember the sting of the wind on my cheeks and I wrapped my scarf tighter around my face with only my eyes peeking out. I hesitated by the three marked graves on the pass of those that did not make it in a storm and I knew I had to go on no matter how tired my legs felt. We started down the steep side of Kaiser and I watched the moon go down following the suns path to the west. It got pretty dark again and I was so, so tired I just had to stop a moment and rest….. The next thing I knew my good companion Shorty was whimpering and licking my face and I was awake, I don’t know how long I was asleep, but I do believe that my dog saved my life that night in the bitter cold. I suddenly had a new found energy called “fear” and I had to move pretty quickly down the road to catch up to the calves. As I approached them I noticed a strange glow in the distance and I soon realized the sun was rising. I kept moving and was very concerned with where my Father was and hoped he was ok, not long after that I remember hearing the best sound I had ever heard, the slow grind of a snow cat approaching. I was so happy to see that rig come over the horizon towards me. I graciously climbed in and noted the time was 7:00 a.m. and that the heater felt really good. I asked what had happed to take so long for there return and they had taken time to construct a makeshift corral near the big pipe line bringing a blowing stream of water to the lake below. My father had called in some more help, Bob Freitas with his gooseneck trailer to help us make the haul to home. The calves went into the snow, cattle truck and make shift paneled corral, happy to see their mothers. At the time I remember thinking how much we were alike in that instance, with the inner happiness one feels when they see a loved one, you fought the thought, you might not see again.

We loaded up the livestock had headed for home, and no words needed to be exchanged to understand the good thing we had all done for those animals. Soon the soothing sound of the cattle trucks’ large motor and rocking ride had me asleep, at last safe and content with a job well done.

I know this is a strange biography but this is how I have looked at life thru out my years and it seems to help me put things into perspective. When the going gets ruff and I figure at least I am not freezing and tired from walking 20 miles in the snow for 24 hours. I still have some of the offspring of those cows my Father gave me from that rescue. I still lead a cattle drives cross-country with my family to the high country of the Sierras, to spend the summer months in the lush green mountain meadows.

I picked up a camera on that trip to document my experience and I have not put the camera down yet either. I realize that what I do as a way of life on the ranch is very special and warrants time and energy to preserve. The style of camera might have changed but the reason remains the same, I have a dedication to the preservation of the true “American Cowboy”. So I have made it my life’s mission to follow the cowboy code and capture that way on life thru my lenses.