Dad definitely spent his time without much civilization, and I think he may have thought it paradise after his country club upbringing in St. Louis. His job was to go into the wilderness with a team of carpenters. There they would build habitation for the railroad workers to use when they got that far. There were no roads, so their only raw materials or other supplies consisted of what they could pack in by mule.
That's the main reason why sourdough became such a large part of his life. If it wasn't for his 'sponge,' he would say, there would be no kind of breads or pancakes at all. Then they'd be stuck with beans and rice with whatever somebody shot or caught to put in it. He would talk about the stuff with a kind of reverence in his voice; enough so that I started my own sponge from his when I was thirteen or fourteen.
I wasn't adverse to cooking, since Mom told me that if I didn't learn I might be stuck "marrying some woman just because she can cook." The way she said it made it clear that such an eventuality would, indeed, be a dismal fate. At the time, though, I couldn't see how people much even got along with girls, let alone would want to marry one.
By the time I was in my mid '20s, Dad's sourdough had been going continuously for over 20 years. By this time mine was even over a decade old. Trouble struck, however, during the time when I travelled for a couple years in my van after I got out of college. Somewhere in Arizona or New Mexico I ran out of ice too long and killed my starter. I wasn't worried at the time, but when I got home found that his had expired, too, since by that time he didn't cook much anymore.
It doesn't matter, theoretically, since starter exists on naturally occurring bacteria in the air where it is kept. Still, it would be nice to be able to know that I still had a start from his original. Once we discovered that neither of us had a good sponge left, though, we started another one using a technique of his designed to 'capture' that type of bacteria from the air, using basically a hybrid flour-and-water mixture. After a couple failures we got a new one going. That was over 20 years ago, and I have descendants of the batch we did together in the fridge right now. (Unless the rascals have oozed out the door and are right now trying to find some part of themselves substantial enough to hold my car key in the ignition so they go on an adventure.)
To make sure I wouldn't lose it again, I made up a booklet on how to cook with sourdough and gave it to all my friends for Christmas a few years back. Along with a pinch of sponge to get them started, of course. Due to popular demand, I'm now selling the booklet and a start of 'sponge' for the modest price of $8.95, which includes shipping. If you think you might want one for yourself, for a present, or would just like to know more about cooking with sourdough, click here.