Life at the Bunk House

The Mousekateers had a club house, but the Phesanteers have a bunk house. In the little town of Marmath in Southwest North Dakota, the old railroad bunkhouse has been converted into a hotel of sorts. For 15 dollars a night you can sleep just like the old brakeman did many years ago. Lord Kadizzle paid the extra ten dollars for a bed warmer, The Commander. Everyone seemed to sleep well in their sparse little room with just an electric light hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the room. The bunkhouse had two main attractions. First there was the railroad track that ran right in front of the place. Burlington Northern Santa Fe is very careful to schedule only one train a day that runs in the middle of the night. Lord Kadizzle likes to sleep with the window open. Some time near one in the morning the train came rumbling down the track. The whistle blew and about knocked old Kadizzle right out of bed. Several members of the group claimed the next morning they did not even know a train went by. Although it was similar to an earthquake a couple hunters did not believe it happened. This was a testimonial to the quality of the medication they had taken prior to bed. The next night the engineer was a little more merciful on the horn.

The second attraction at the bunkhouse was Harvey. Harvey was on oil field worker that was residing at the estate. Harvey appeared to be a burnt out, leftover, worked over, hippie from the sixties. The first night Tom engaged Harvey in some conversation and the two of them managed to solve many of the worlds problems. It is questionable if Tom could have communicated with Harvey if he had not been well lubed by his friend Gentleman Jim. Gentleman Jim comes in the industrial size, and the traveling size. Tom brought one of each to cover all bases. When we got up in the morning Harvey was usually sitting there staring off into space looking like he was ready to bite your leg off. One day when we returned from the hunt Harvey was sitting there looking like a coal stove had blown up in his face. He was black from the waste down. According to Harvey his delima was caused by vent oil, whatever that was.

The boys from North Carolina were amazed how the bunkhouse was run. Basically you just walk in take a room and sleep in it. When you leave you put the money you owe under the door of room two. You never see anyone who runs the place. It is a fine system that could only work in North Dakota.