I ran into George Dickel decades ago in Montana, in a little log restaurant on the side of a mountain.
A buddy and I had already set up camp, we followed the state map to the little inn, and we had a couple steaks and many smiles and winks from the innkeeper’s two lovely daughters.
After eating we sat at the small pine-built bar, where I spotted the Dickel, which I had been looking for since seeing the name mentioned by a favorite Montana author of mine.
We had a glass, and another and another, the hale and hearty bartender-inkeeper calling out, every 20 minutes or so, “another Little Dickel?”...to which we raised our glass.
We slept by the Sun river that night, a Ruger Blackhawk for a pillow-—the local sheriff had stopped by our camp to warn us of grizzlies in the area, and we dreamed—I did anyway—of the two daughters coming by with a midnight snack and an hour or two of tickle—oh...sorry, I meant Dickel.
That’s a great George Dickel story. Thanks.
” One of my favorite Montana authors “ wouldn’t be James Lee Burke, now would it ?
Most of his novels are set in Louisiana, but he lives in western Montana.