Days Forever Flown
by May A. Haslehurst
Privately Printed, New York, 1892
Excerpt describing a portion of Ms. Haslehurst's Yellowstone tour in 1891 where she
describes the journey to the Trout Creek Lunch Station:
"We passed over "Mary's Mountain," a very precipitous climb, one bit of road being so narrow and rough, that Jamie and I walked up it, and found afterwards that we had climbed, not " the golden stairs," but the " Devil's Ladder." It was on this mountain, about a year ago, that a buffalo appeared in front of a stage-load of people, frightening the horses so terribly, that they ran away and upset the stage. Fortunately only one person was injured.
After driving about sixteen miles, we came to a hollow in between the hills, and there found a little collection of tents, and were informed that it was "Larry's Lunch Station!" It was a most remarkable place, one tent for a dining-room, one for a waiting-room, a kitchen, and all the necessary requirements; and elk-horns, with their great branches, ornamented every available space in front of the entrance to this remarkable abode. On the white canvas were grotesque drawings, two of which we photographed.
The owner of this quaint lunch station, was a roaring Irishman, with a fund of ready wit and humor, really remarkable and truly amusing. He acted the part of host to perfection, in his shirtsleeves and little round skull cap, and although "his guests" sat down at his bountiful board as strangers, they arose as friends, for his remarks, as he walked back and forth from one to the other, to see that all were waited upon, produced such an uproar, that we lost all formality and ceremony while in that tent. A long wooden bench stretched down each side of the table, and one either had to go in at the end, or climb over. As one lady climbed to her place at the table, Larry exclaimed "Please, lady, don't soil the upholstery," and soon perceiving some haste on the part of one person present, he shouted, "You have one hour and a half to eat; this ain't no twenty minute lunch counter."
Just as we were all seated and had opened our Japanese napkins, and prepared for our meal, Larry electrified us all, by shouting at the top of his decidedly loud voice, "Let her go, coffee," and to our surprise, from another tent near by, there came a young man, with an earthenware pitcher full of really excellent coffee. It was surprising how good things did taste to us all.
After leaving Larry's, we drove through a long stretch of desolate country, owing to the loss of trees, but were surrounded by mountains; and as we crept along, we kept coming nearer and nearer to such a peculiar mountain, so white and green and yellow all over, and discovered that we were viewing the famous Sulphur Mountain, a most remarkable formation of almost pure sulphur. A boiling spring lies right at the foot, on the road-side, and was in a very active bubbling state. . ."