After four days in the semi-rough of Byers Peak Ranch, 8,750 ft. in the high Rockies, the President of the U.S. looked ruddy and fit. It had been a pleasant vacation-within-a-vacation: Ike had taken it easy, fishing in the chilly water of St. Louis Creek, dabbling at his painting, and demonstrating his prowess as a mess sergeant by preparing all the meals for the stag party. He put the camp on a two-big-meals-and-no-lunch regimen. His menus were hearty: a breakfast of fried cornmeal mush with chicken-giblet gravy and sausages, a dinner of...

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