A spring snowstorm hit the Black Hills, SD on May 9-10, 2015 putting Lupe’s planned Expedition No. 129 on hold. The G6 wasn’t going anywhere in this weather. Lupe’s options were down to romping around in the snow in the back yard, attacking the snow shovel when SPHP went out to shovel the walk out front, or snoozing and warming herself by the fire in the fireplace. She did some of each.
So instead of a trip report on Lupe’s postponed Expedition No. 129, it is time for a book review! SPHP’s spouse bought and gave the paperback book “Ain’t it Hell, Bill Peyto’s Mountain Journal” to SPHP while on vacation in the Canadian Rockies in July, 2003. The edition SPHP has is the 3rd printing, 2001 (ISBN 0-9699732-0-9) and says it is available from EJH Literary Enterprises in Banff, Canada. The book was originally copyrighted in 1995 by author E. J. Hart.
Ain’t it Hell is largely based on a journal Bill Peyto kept only sporadically from 1895 to 1921. Hart gathered additional information from many sources; “not enough for that biography, but plenty for a work of historical fiction using the known facts as a basis around which to structure the story. Ain’t it Hell is Bill’s story, as closely as I can recreate it over 50 years after his death.”
Ebenezer William Peyto was born in England on February 14, 1869. In early 1887 he left England, and by late March or April of that year was working for the Canadian Pacific Railroad near Kicking Horse Pass in the Canadian Rockies. From then on “Wild Bill” Peyto spent most of his rough and varied life in the Canadian Rockies.
He soon knew as much or more about the mountains as almost anyone else around. Bill Peyto’s usual base of operations was Banff, and he became Banff’s most legendary mountain man. Bill Peyto was a hunter and trapper, prospector, guide and outfitter. Eventually he became one of the early wardens for the national park service. After marrying his first wife, Emily, Bill built a small cabin for her in town along the Bow River. He continued to spend a lot of time, though, at his other hideouts in the mountains, most notably one near a copper mining claim in an area he called the “Bookrest”.
Prior to the 1890’s, many of the peaks of the Canadian Rockies had never been climbed. Tourists and alpinists were just starting to arrive on the scene in significant numbers. Bill Peyto’s initial fame grew mostly out of his work as a guide and outfitter for climbers like Walter Wilcox, Dr. J. Norman Collie, Edward Whymper, and Reverend James Outram who either were or would become famous mountaineers. Many years later, as a park warden, Bill Peyto helped find and rescue Mrs. Stone alive from a ledge on the slopes of Mt. Eon eight days after her husband, Dr. Winthrop Stone, fell to his death.
Twice Bill Peyto left Banff and the Canadian Rockies to go to war on behalf of the British Empire. In 1900, he was wounded fighting the Boers in South Africa. Despite being 46 years old, in 1915 he enlisted again. By 1916 he wound up as a machine gunner fighting the Germans in Europe during WWI. Bill tried to enlist a third time in Calgary following the outbreak of WWII, but was turned down at over 70 years old.
Ain’t it Hell is full of stories from Bill Peyto’s life. Once he brought a live lynx into a bar in Banff. After his first wife passed away, a photo of Bill that won an award at the Toronto Fair eventually brought him a second wife. He slept outside in minus 30 degree weather to keep from getting soft. Ain’t it Hell is also full of references to famous mountains, lakes, and rivers in the Canadian Rockies and to his experiences dealing with climbers, explorers, other guides, prospectors, businessmen, and politicians of the age.
Bill’s life was not easy. The mountains were wild and spectacularly beautiful, but there were also very real dangers and almost none of the amenities providing the comforts of life we take for granted now. He was a tough guy and frequently tough to get along with, living in a time and place where self-reliance was necessary to survive.
Bill Peyto died of cancer on March 24, 1943 at the age of 74. He is buried in Banff Cemetery next his first wife, Emily. Bill Peyto’s cabin and a small log storage building he used to own have been moved from their original locations along the Bow River to the grounds of the Whyte Museum of the Canadian Rockies in Banff. Bill Peyto is also commemorated by a restaurant named Wild Bill’s Legendary Saloon in Banff. Near Lake Louise, is Bill Peyto’s Café at the International Hostel and Alpine Center.
However, it seems likely the tributes that would have pleased Bill Peyto most are farther N. Along Icefields Parkway No. 93, on the way from Lake Louise to Jasper, is Bow Pass a few kilometers N of Bow Lake. Just to the W of Bow Pass is Peyto Lake, fed by the melt waters of the Peyto Glacier coming down from the Wapta Icefield below Peyto Peak.
At 224 pages including the introduction and epilogue, Ain’t it Hell is a pretty easy, quick and fun read. SPHP has read Ain’t it Hell several times over the years, and each time gets more out of it. On her summer vacations in 2013 and 2014, Lupe went to see quite a few of the lakes, rivers, mountains and passes mentioned in the book. Having been there with Lupe, it is even more fun to read about the events that once took place in the beautiful and dramatic locations mentioned in Ain’t it Hell.
Is Ain’t it Hell a book you might enjoy? Your reaction to the following May 15, 1910 entry from Bill Peyto’s mountain journal featured on the back cover of Ain’t it Hell is probably a good indication:
“I headed downslope to where the cubs were feeding and came up at them, hoping to scare them into one or another of my mining shafts for protection. It worked perfectly, as they ran for the nearest dark hole, and I went in with my ropes on the ready to see if I could catch one. I could hear the little fellows squealing in the dark and I paused a moment to let my eyes adjust. Just then I heard a tremendous roar and knew the sow was coming on the run looking for her wayward offspring. It didn’t take her a moment to pick up the scent and she headed straight for the mouth of the shaft bent on destruction. I knew the jig was up for sure if I lost my head and so very deliberately drew the Colt from my belt and waited for her to find us out …”
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