Mountain Masculinity: The Life and Writing of Nello "Tex Vernon-Wood in the Canadian Rockies, 1906–1938.

John Abbott is a professor of history at Laurentian University’s Algoma University College. He is the co-author of The Border at Sault Ste Marie and The History of Fort St. Joseph.

The title, Mountain Masculinity, provides the connective tissue for two dozen essays that Nello (“Tex”) Vernon-Wood wrote, primarily for The Sportsman, The National Sportsman, and Hunting and Fishing between 1930 and 1938. Most of them are humorous tales, featuring incidents generated by the clash between the culture of Banff mountain guides and wranglers and that of their wealthy New York or wealthy, class-conscious British clients. What might have been rather crude “huntin’ an’ fishin’” stories, Vernon-Wood transformed into gently swelling satirical arches, one side informed by his British origins and sensitivities, the other by his resolve to become an accepted and welcome member of the resident mountain cultural milieu. The keystone which secures the arch and preserves many of these essays as undoubted literary gems is his capacity to distance himself from both when at the writing table, and distill humour (and wisdom) from life’s experiences.

“William, Prepare My Barth” is a tale of two “Woodbiners” and their valet, William, who arrived in Banff, Alberta, burdened with accoutrements typical of an African safari—“everything except the brick house … a chest of silver, and a valet to see that we didn’t pinch the spoons, and to fill the bathtub.” The minute the cook made a move in the morning, one or the other would holler, “William, prepare my barth.” When the wrangler suggested that William tell him to go jump in the lake, “Bill would just about have a hemorrhage for fear one of the dukes would hear.…” However, the western American environment had its way. The last time Vernon-Wood saw William, after he’d been liquored up by the wranglers, “he was going up the street, toward the big hotel, and he was sure using a lot of the right way—both sides and the middle—and I heard him tell a mounted corporal, ‘I’m going up there, and I’m going to tell those bl-blighters, to take an extended sprint an’ plunge into the water.’”

Gow and Rak deploy fully the contents of their scholarly satchels, playing academic wranglers to the benighted reader-sorts who won’t possibly catch the nuances of Nello’s notions without their God-like assistance. The book is introduced by an extensive academic essay, and every one of Nello’s stories buys a full page exposé of the points-not-to-be-missed. It’s very well done, but deliciously ironic nonetheless.