A few years back I had the opportunity to go to Wyoming and live my dream. Here is a writing describing my adventure. I hope you have a dream and get to live the dream.
THE BEGINNING OF A PROCESS - MY CITY SLICKER EXPERIENCE
I was half asleep on the 727 returning from a weekend trip to Atlanta with my wife when I was awaken by her saying” why don’t you give this a try”? She handed me a copy of the in-flight magazine pointing to an article about adventure travel in the west. The trip she was referring to was a cattle drive in Wyoming. Going on an adventure vacation was not new to me. I had gone on a weeklong kayak trip in the mountains of North Carolina and a weeklong fishing trip in the boundary waters of Canada. I have always looked forward to adventures of any kind. The idea of a step back into the history of this great country intrigued me and the west had always been a dream of mine. I had to go.
All of my life I had dreamed of living in the west. Growing up I was fortunate to have been able to have traveled all over the west with my parents. I watched all of the old westerns on TV including Gunsmoke, Roy Rogers, The Lone Ranger, Sky King, Bat Masterson, Wanted Dead or Alive, and Have Gun Will Travel to name a few.
My roots in the western ideal go back to about 1909. No, I’m not almost 100 years old. I have a photograph of my grandfather, Ed Reynolds, born August 12, 1889, taken in about 1909 in central Illinois. He is sitting on a big gray horse wearing angora chaps, tall cowboy hat, leather cuffs and boots. Yes he was an Illinois cowboy at the turn of the century. Till the day he died in January 1977 he wore his Silver Belly Stetson cowboy hat and western boots. While I was growing up I remember his favorite vacation was a trip to Cheyenne, Wyoming for Frontier Days. He loved the cowboy spirit and took it to the grave. He was tough, strong, courageous, and earned what he got.
Getting back to the article on western adventure travel, I arrived home and quickly called the 800 number for information. I called in March and in June I was on a 101,000 acre ranch outside of Hamilton Dome, Wyoming, a small oil drilling community 80 miles southeast of Yellowstone National Park.
ARRIVING AT YELLOWSTONE REGIONAL AIRPORT, CODY, WYOMING
As I stepped off the plane in Cody I was met by Earl and Edna. They looked like they had been in the west ever since Custer. Come to find out Earl was part Indian and in fact Earl and Edna had been in the west all of their lives. Like a lot of the ranch people in the west they had moved from ranch to ranch, managing some and working on others. Currently Earl and Edna were the managers of the High Island Guest Ranch that was owned by an industrialist back east in Massachusetts.
There was a small group of us gathered in the baggage pickup area and all of us were going to The High Island Guest Ranch. It is a small airport with one gate, one baggage pick-up area and usually only one plane at a time, 3 times a day. There was no rush at this airport. Everyone was dressed differently but most of us had attempted to look or at least feel like cowboys. The hats varied from western felt, Australian outback, straw and of course ball caps. Most everyone was wearing jeans of some sort even though we later learned Wrangler was the preferred brand, tight fittin. Scarves, western style shirts, silver belt buckles, boots, ropes and saddle bags could all be seen.
As our bags were piled in front of us we all grabbed our things and headed outside to the High Island Guest Ranch 4x4 pulling an open trailer for the luggage. The trailer was packed with our gear and we drove downtown Cody for those last minute items we need for the week. We were told to have sun block, boots, hats, rain gear, and assortment of other lifesaving equipment, bug repellent. The list was extensive and we wondered how cowboys made it with just a bedroll, slicker, saddle, gun and horse.
After shopping we had a few drinks to get to know each other at the famous Silver Saddle Bar in The Irma Hotel. The Irma Hotel was built by Buffalo Bill Cody and named for his daughter Irma. It is a beautiful hotel where you can meet locals and hear great old stories. We were starting to get a feel for the change of pace and the character of the true west. I knew it was going to be an exciting week I would never forget.
It was time to move on and complete the 70 mile drive to the ranch. It had been a long day for most of us and we were all tired but the beauty of Wyoming kept us all gawking out the windows and asking all sorts of questions. “What kind of animal is that?”...”Pronghorn!” “What kind of plant is that?”...”Sagebrush!” “What kind of animals are those way over there?”...”Cows!” “Are there snakes out here?”...”Yes!” “Rattlesnakes?”...”YES!” “Are we there yet?”...”Mile and a quarter.” Which became the standard reply for “Are we there yet?” There were a few ranches we could see from the highway but for the most part we just saw a few gravel roads that took off over a hill to a ranch several miles off the main road. Ranches are very big out here reaching up into the thousands of acres. Hard to comprehend for non-westerners. It wasn’t a long ride with so much to see and so many new people to get to know. The last 10 miles to the ranch was a dusty, bumpy road through the foothills as we got closer to the mountains.
ARRIVAL AT HIGH ISLAND GUEST RANCH-HAMILTON DOME, WYOMING
After 10 miles of dust, sagebrush and jack rabbits we arrived at the main lodge of this 101,000 acre ranch. The main lodge is about a mile from the owner’s ranch house and barns. The ranch is a working cattle ranch and has been for years. The “Dude” business has come about in recent years as the desire to enjoy the outdoors has pulled the yuppies away from their fast paced city lives.
The guest lodge is located on a bluff overlooking a small creek lined with cottonwood trees. Rolling foothills encompassed the ranch. The Rocky Mountains and the Washakie Needles peak are 20 miles off to the west. Washakie Needles peak is one of the 15 highest peaks in Wyoming at 12,518 feet. During the week we would get within 1000 feet of the top and enjoy views that are, indeed, difficult to describe.
The lodge is ranch style with a wraparound porch on three sides. The center of the building is a large open place where meals are served and people gather to tell tails and learn about the other guests. There is a large wood stove, the only heat, since Wyoming summer nights can get down to freezing. A small kitchen is at one end of the main room. The main room has lots of western style furniture with large log parts and thick cushions. On the walls is western art and stuffed animal mounts like, buffalo, dear, and mountain lion. The floor is plank and it was fun to hear yourself walk across the floor.
In the same building located along the sides of the main room are 8 small, 9’x11’, guest rooms with entrances off the porch. They are cozy with two single beds, small wood stove, and one bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling. They all have a small window so if you were on the east side of the lodge you saw the sunrise and if you were on the west side you saw the sunset. Someone really gave some thought to the design of the lodge. The doors have no locks and there is a trust and camaraderie among the guest, even in the first few hours after meeting.
There are five other small log buildings at the main lodge location. There were two bunkhouses, men and women that have three bunk beds in each, a separate bathhouse with men and women sides and two outhouses. Between all of the buildings are boardwalks so if you are moving around in the night you wouldn’t step in cactus. The buildings are arranged in a circle with a large stone grill near the main lodge for cookouts. We all really felt we were embarking on a fabulous adventure.
SETTLING IN THE FIRST NIGHT
Arriving at the ranch about 5 PM we were told dinner would be ready at 6 PM. Everyone was busy unpacking and settling into the various accommodations. I wanted to rough it as much as possible so I chose a bunkhouse with four other guys. It was tight and with all the gear we each brought it got to be a mess in a hurry. Ropes, boots, canteens, chaps, hats are gear that take up a lot of space. The excitement was building and no one knew quite what to expect.
Dinner was served at 6 PM and everyone was starved. Steaks, baked potatoes, salad, homemade bread, pies and drinks. Great food and all you could eat. Lois and Jeanette were the cooks and we had a great meal, getting to know each other and confiding in each other about our experience levels. Some of the guests had ridden all their lives and some had never ridden. The ranch staff would have their hands full with this group.
Out back of the lodge are picnic tables where we were supposed to meet after supper for our briefing on the week’s events. Anxious, tired, stuffed, and with the sun setting over the mountains we waited for the meeting to start. Earl, the ranch manager welcomed us and introduced all of the ranch hands (staff). Earl is about 5’5”, 60 years old, dark complexion due to being part Indian and out in the sun so much, wore glasses and carried a robust stature. He was just what I had imagined a ranch manager to look like. His face had a rough look from all the wind and weather he had endured. He wore western wear that was not for fashion. He was clean, but you could see there were miles on the cloths and the man. Next, he had all of us introduce ourselves, tell where we were from and what we did for a living. It was a mixed bag of folks from all walks of life. We had three retired New York City Mounted Police, meat cutter from North Carolina, nurse from Utah, IBM executive from Texas, student from Boston, music store owner from Boston, broker, psychologist, radio talk show host from Florida, retiree, lawyer, CPA, school principal and I was a real estate broker from North Carolina. A multi-talented group with one goal in mind, to complete the cattle drive.
After the meeting we all went out to a small coral and tack barn west of the lodge. Gary, the ranch foreman, talked to us about the gear (saddles and such) and how we would all be paired up with horses, based on our skill level, the next morning. Gary helped us pick out saddles, bridles, saddle bags and saddle blankets so we would have our equipment the next morning when the horses arrived. Gary is a tall, thin, hansom, colorful, young guy, about 30 years old. The ladies in the group had the “whispering thing” going while he was talking and you could just tell, by their eyes what they were thinking. Gary wore a black cowboy hat with a red braided hat band. He wore a red scarf and tall red topped cowboy boots with his pants tucked in. I think he was about as flashy as a cowboy gets. Gary told us we were responsible for the equipment and needed to take care of it because it would take care of us. A new mood was cast over the group as we realized we were taking on a responsibility and becoming part of a crew with a job. This wasn’t going to be a vacation where someone waited on us hand and foot and provided all the creature comforts.
Carrying our saddles, blankets, bags and bridles and watching out for snakes we made our ways back to the bunkhouse in the dark. When I say dark I mean a kind of darkness where you see more stars in the sky than you have ever imagined. There are no ground lights to be seen in any direction and in some directions you can see for 40-50 miles. The stars are so bright you can see the silhouette of the mountains in the distance. That evening brought a new definition to nightfall.
Back in the bunkhouse we were tripping over each other and trying to imagine what it would be like. We had all brought to many things and now our task was to pick a few of the most important items to fill our saddle bags because we would not have access to our things for the three days on the trail. Our bedrolls would be hauled in the chuck wagon and we would get them at night at the campsite. I put a poncho, water bottle, Chap Stick, small flashlight, binoculars, leather gloves and a small zip lock bag of munchies. I put toiletries, socks and a towel rolled up in my bedroll. By this time it was 11 PM and we were to be up and at breakfast at 6 AM. I was the last one to go to sleep since I am a nut for organization and I had to keep changing everything around. I was doing all of this by flashlight as the other guys hit the hay. I was so filled with excitement and enthusiasm for the adventure of my lifetime. After I had packed for the trip I went out and walked around the lodge area. The feeling of immense size of the universe hit me. The stars and mountain shadows in the night sky created a soothing silence. A light cool breeze could be heard throughout the cottonwoods in the creek bottom below the lodge. I knew I had to get to bed but I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to sleep. “WRONG” I was out like a light.
GREENHORNS IN THE CORAL
It was just starting to get light about 4:30 AM when I couldn’t sleep any longer. I got up quietly and slipped out to the clear sky full of stars still shining, competing with the morning dawn, sounds of birds with their early morning zest for life, and the smell of sagebrush was in the air. The sunrise was casting a beautiful pink glow over the horizon of mountains probably 100 miles to the east. This gave new meaning to the word, horizon. I was welling up with excitement for the day. I wanted to soak it all up. There wasn’t another soul up yet and I was glad. I almost felt, somehow, I was all alone out there. I had signed up for this adventure by myself while others were typically out with a friend, brother, sister or spouse. I went to the shower house where there was one shower, sink, and an open window facing the creek with a wonderful cool breeze blowing through. Even the most mundane things seemed fresh and exciting.
As I walked up to the main lodge along the boardwalk the feeling was of nature all around me and that I was just another creature moving across the surface. Still no one was stirring about so I put a couple of logs in the wood stove and got a fire started. It was probably about 50 degrees that morning. I went on to get the coffee started and by that time one of the cooks, Lois, was arriving. I was amazed at how happy she was that I had taken the initiative to get things going. Life is hard in the west and work is long and hard for hired hands on a ranch. Lois started at a little after 5 AM and was still working after 9 PM everyday on the trip. We hit it off that morning and I always got plenty to eat. Breakfast was bacon and eggs, pancakes, fresh fruit, and plenty of fresh coffee.
Off to the corral but there were no horses. We wondered what was next when someone shouted “look” and about a mile and a quarter east of the corrals we could see a cloud of dust. It was a large herd of horses being driven by the ranch hands from over at the main ranch house and barns. Yes, it was a THUNDERING herd, and what an adrenaline rush. We were, by now, all standing on the fences around the coral to get a better view of the magnificent herd of fresh horse being driven in just for us. Four cowboys was all it took for the herd of 30-35 horses. One cowboy, Gary, was riding point and led the horses right into the corral. Gabino was drag, pushing the last one into the corral and closing the gate. What a sense of power and strength. All of the guests jumped back off the fences as the herd of horses ran into the corral and realized there was no way out and began to turn in all directions and try to get stopped. The dust and confusion for those few seconds gave some of us a chill as we realized we were going to be riding them in a few minutes. Every new thing seemed more exciting than the last.
As the horses calmed down and got a drink we were all looking over the herd wondering which one we would be riding. Appaloosas, brown ones, white ones, black ones, paint ones, I’m not up on all the breeds. They were beautiful, tall and fit looking. Earl, Gary, and Gabino began asking each of us what our riding abilities were. They would then in turn call out names of horses to be culled out of the herd by the other hands and brought over to us. I got a very large, 16 hands high they told me, brown horse called Split Ear, due to the split in his left ear. I was excited and a bit apprehensive when I was finally standing next to a 16 hands high horse. “WOW!” I was not real experienced but I told them I had been riding for several weeks prior to coming out to the ranch and had ridden as a kid.
We were all shown how Earl wanted us to saddle the horses. A few of the guests thought they knew how and were pretty quickly shown the way they were going to do it. The rules of the west are different from what most of us are familiar and the ranchers are quite willing and quick to set us straight on many things. To a rancher there is his way and everyone else’s way. You can guess the one we chose. I enjoyed the dynamics of the people as we found our way in this new setting. Ordinarily, I tend to get out there and act like I know what I am doing in life. In this experience I saw right away the best way to be, in the west as a greenhorn, is to shut up, watch, listen, and learn from the best. It is too easy to make a mistake and get hurt, people did.
After everybody brushed the horses, saddled, and adjusted the equipment, we all rode around the corral and out into the surrounding areas near the lodge for the hands to see if our riding skills matched what we had said and the horses we were riding. I loved Split Ear and he was a quick, smart horse. Gabino said he had been used as a cutting horse. A cutting horse is a fast, savvy horse used to cut cows out of a herd when you are, say, needing to doctor one or when you are branding and need to cut out a calf to rope and brand.
About 10 AM we all gathered round the corral area where the chuck wagon was waiting and ready to take off. The wagon was loaded with our bedrolls, food, water, tents, and first-aid supplies for people and animals and who knows what else. You could see it was a load but the two draft horses looked up to the task. The cooks, Lois and Jeanette, were driving the wagon and were going to start out ahead of us to get to the lunch site so they could have lunch prepared when we arrived in the early afternoon. It had been four hours since breakfast and I felt I had done a day’s work and was hungry again.
After the chuck wagon rode out of site Earl and Gary divided the group up into a couple of groups based on ability to ride. I was amazed at how well they had sized us up and was happy to be in the group that was most experienced. Our question was where are the cows we are supposed to be driving? I had seen a few roaming around the area but didn’t see any herd. Well, we were informed that the herd had not yet been gathered and that was what we were going to be doing until lunch. I was confused as to how that was going to happen when the ranch was so big and I really had no clue as to where 350 cows were to be found by a bunch of greenhorns. About then Earl and Gary whirled their horses around and took off. Yes, we were off at a gallop riding along the bluff that the lodge is located on. I was so excited and had a smile from ear to ear. I was doing what I had always dreamed of.
Gary and the group of us more experienced riders were out front of Earl and his group when Gary made a hard left over the edge of the bluff down through sagebrush and cactus into the river bottom below. What a thrill, going over the edge and hanging on. I knew why they had divided us up based on ability. At the bottom of the embankment in a clearing surrounded by 6’ high sagebrush Gary pulled up to wait for the rest of us to get down the bank. There were eight of us in his group. “There are a lot of cattle down here and we need to find‘em and push‘em up stream. Head downstream about a mile to where you see a fence cross the creek, spread out to cover the width of the creek bottom and push the cows upstream.” Yea! Right! I thought. We had already picked up that you listen to instructions, don’t ask questions, and get the job done. There doesn’t seem to be a lot of wasted words with ranchers. Unless you happen to be in a cowboy bar. Again, Gary turned and was off. It was as if we were a seasoned bunch of drovers. We headed off downstream and we couldn’t believe how many cows we were seeing. They were all over down in through the sagebrush.
We finally reached the fence he told us about that was fencing off the main ranch house and barns. In Wyoming there is a Fence-Out rule. The state is open range and if you don’t want cows or livestock on your property you have to fence them out. The owner doesn’t have to fence them in. In this case Earl was fencing the cows out of the main ranch area. The fence circled the main house and barns to keep the cows out of the barn yard. So many new concepts to learn. We fanned out to cover the quarter mile width of the creek bottom area and began to walk our horses upstream as we were told. We all yelled at the cows and they would turn and start the walk up stream. As they got going they all seemed to know what was going on. No, it wasn’t that they were trained for us “dudes”, it was the fact that every spring ranchers take their herds from the lower plains and desert areas and drive them up to higher country for the summer to get better grass. In late June most of the snow is melted and the grass is good. Many of these cows had made the trip last year and as you can guess from the word, they HERD together for the trip. The herd is made up of cows and calves, called pairs. Once we started to move the cows and calves you could hardly hear yourself think. Mothers were calling for calves and calves calling for moms. They say the mother cows know their calves call and can find them in the crowd. It seemed so, since after a while things did quiet down and the herd did start to take shape. We were a proud bunch of cowpunchers, even though it had only been a couple of hours. Hot and dry, sagebrush wafting through the air when the horses and cows brushed against it, the smell of fresh cow pies after they had been stepped in, lots of new sights and smells as we forgot who we were and took on the new identity of cowboys in the old west. That smell of sagebrush is what gave me the name of my Border Collie, I got a few years later, Sage.
Earl and his group had scattered out over some hillsides on upstream and were pushing cows down into the creek bottom. We were getting the picture of how this might eventually become a herd of cows. We pushed cows, wondered about, backtracked, saw lots of jackrabbits, ate dust and finally came out of the thickest of the creek bottom underbrush. Up ahead we could see the chuck wagon, a campfire, Earl and Gary, and the cooks. They waved us over and it was time for lunch. Boy! Were we hungry! I don’t know what it was, but the food was great, and we ate a lot of it. No wonder the week cost $1,000, it was because of their food bill. Lois and Jeanette had a huge pot of vegetable soup on the open fire. There was lots of fresh baked bread from the night before, pies and plenty to drink. What a feast! We were stopped along the creek and the cows and calves were grazing, more or less, all around us. We asked why they don’t wonder off and the answer was that after being pushed by us they would rather just stand still for a while and graze. The calves were also busy getting lunch.
We were really getting to know each other and becoming a unified group. The three mounted police from New York City, Eddie, Chuck and Bobbie had stories to tell from their horseback experiences in the city. Even the ranch hands loved the stories, like the one when Eddie’s horse kicked the grill out of a Mercedes parked to close to the horse and Bobbie’s horse ate the convertible top off of a car parked to close to him. Great conversation and stories already taking shape from that morning. Renee, the student from Boston had already fallen off her horse but wasn’t hurt. Some of the behinds were starting to get sore. Earl suggested we get off and walk our horses every once in a while to stay loosened up. That sounds great, except for those who need help getting on their horse or the ones who fear walking up on a rattlesnake or worry their horse will spook and run off without them. These are all possibilities whether real or perceived.
Food, rest and we were mounting up for the final push of the day. We weren’t far from the lodge, maybe 4 miles, but we had brought together almost 350 cows and calves rounded up out of harsh country by a bunch of greenhorns. We felt proud and excited about the rest of the drive. It didn’t take much to get the herd pulled back together for the move out of the river bottom area up through a small draw and out on to a large wide open prairie area. It looked as if it stretched on forever. Earl said it was about 15 miles over to the foot of the mountains. It was a pretty uneventful afternoon if you don’t count the dead calf along the way that had died from being born too weak to survive the elements. The carcass was alive with maggots and Gary said by next week it would be a dried up carcass of bone and hide. Nature is not always what we think it ought to be. The ranch is so large, with so many cows, that it is impossible to make sure all of the births are monitored. One of the guests did ride close enough to a rattlesnake to scare the horse but luckily the rider held on. This is all in a day’s work on a cattle ranch, but to us greenhorns it was a very exciting day.
CAMP-THE FIRST NIGHT ON THE TRAIL
After a long day in the saddle we finally reached a large corral seemingly out in the middle of nowhere. That is exactly where we were. Large ranches get together and build sets of corrals that are used by various ranchers for purposes of branding, gathering and shipping off to market, and moving herds. This helps limit the time it takes to get started in the morning when the herd is all together. We got the herd in the corrals and just to the south of the corrals was a bluff that dropped down to a beautiful spot along Cottonwood Creek. When we got to the edge of the bluff we could see camp below, all set up, tents and all, meal on the fire, cold drinks ready, and REST. It had been a long day since 4:30am. Camp was set up under a large old cottonwood tree and the creek ran 15 feet from the camp. The sound of the water rushing by was going to create a great setting for sleep. Lois and Jeanette were, again, on top of everything. Supper was on the fire and along with Gabino they had set up all the tents and made camp feel like home to us. Supper was beef, boiled potatoes, corn bread, and salad. Yes, we ate a lot of beef but this is a cattle ranch and who’s counting cholesterol? We ate, listened to banjo and guitar music provide by Debbie who owns a music store in Boston and Earl who loved to play around the campfire. Tired we hit the tents early. Under a canopy of stars, the creek gently running by the camp, we knew 5am would come early.
DAY TWO-ACROSS THE FLATS
I got up early again to enjoy every bit of this adventure. 5am on the prairie is so beautiful. Birds singing, the horses were wondering along the creek eating fresh grass, the fire from the night before was still smoldering and there was a nice cool chill in the air. I put on an old weathered leather coat and got the campfire going for a pot of fresh cowboy coffee. Cowboy coffee is no more than boiling water with a heap of coffee grounds poured in and let simmer for a few minutes. From there on out the stronger it gets. No Joke! But, you know, it tastes just great. Everybody was getting up and trying to figure out how to get a day started without a bathroom. Behind a bush over here and behind a bush over there. Bent over a cup of water brushing our teeth and a pan of cold water washing our faces. It was a new experience. We all survived. Campfire breakfast eaten, gear loaded in our saddlebags, bodies limbered up, we gathered our horses and saddled up for, what I knew would be a long day.
Leather coat off and tied over the saddle, I mounted up and helped get the cows out of the corral and ready to hit the trail. We pushed them down to the creek for a big drink before we headed out over the desert flat to the base of the mountains. The views and expansiveness of the country captured me and I knew I had to live out here. The air is so clean and dry. Mornings start out cool and by midday the sun is hot. Cowboys all wear long sleeves, gloves, hats, chaps or chinks, but still manage to be comfortable due to the dryness of the climate. The expression “it’s a dry heat” really does mean something. There is no wet clammy feeling. The long sleeves are protection from the elements such as brush and sun. Chaps and chinks are leather leg coverings to protect against brush, and rubbing up against cows or fences while on horseback. Chinks are the shorter summer version of chaps and only drop just over the knee and don’t go to the ground. If you ever notice the length of the wranglers worn by cowboys you will see they seem much too long and they gather at the boots. There is a reason for this. Cowboys spend a lot of time in the saddle and in the sitting position with their knees bent they want the pants to still hang down to the top of their foot both for protection and looks. One good sign of a real cowboy is the length of his wranglers. Clothing to a cowboy is a part of his essential tools. Cowboy hats keep off the elements and in winds protect his face. Silk scarves, known as a “wild rag” keep him warm in the cold and cool in the heat by shading his neck and being dampened with creek water for a refreshing wrap. You should have seen the assortment of clothes on our trip. I wore wrangler jeans, cowboy boots, belt with oval silver buckle, long sleeve western shirt, corduroy vest, cotton scarf, and Bailey straw cowboy hat. I really felt the part.
On the flat dusty trail all morning we kept a slow methodical pace. Basically there are four positions to driving a herd. Point, who leads the way out front of the heard, flankers who work the side of the herd to keep them from spreading out too wide, and drag who has the very dusty chore of keeping the whole group moving. Flankers often have to round up or chase down strays that run off from the herd. A cow that runs off from the herd usually comes back on their own because of the herding instinct. They don’t want to be alone. Point sounds like a good job, doesn’t it, but think about this, wind direction and stampedes. The jobs get rotated and some of us were always riding off on our own to see the sights over one hill or another. The pace was very relaxing and none of the conversations had anything to do with life outside this ranch. The push was easy this morning and the day was heating up. Arid flats, basically, with nothing but sagebrush, cactus, and an occasional lizard or snake. By the heat of the day you won’t see a snake. They are all under bushes or rocks out of the sun. We were really getting to know what a long day in the saddle was going to feel like. Some of us were getting off to walk for a while, even the cowboys, to stretch our legs and give the horse a breather. As we walked amongst the cactus in the heat we could see the snow and pine trees on the mountains in the distance. What a contrast. We were going to be camped at the base of the mountains at sunset.
LUNCH ON THE FLATS
No sooner than we thought we weren’t going to make it we came over a rise and there it was. Cottonwood creek, again, with Lois and Jeanette around the campfire fixing lunch under the huge cottonwood trees. The cows and horses were very thirsty and we herded the cows to the creek downstream from the lunch camp. You don’t want the cows wondering all around your lunch camp! The whole herd ran into the creek to drink. It was hard holding the horses back from the water, they were so thirsty. After the herd was settled down in the stream the horses were allowed to drink. I was amazed at how much water a horse could drink. I thought I was riding a camel. As the cows filled their need for water they ambled off to the good green grass along the creek edge. They weren’t going anywhere. A good foreman of a cattle drive always knows where the next water is located. Cows can only go so far without water.
We all rode up to the lunch camp and let our horses loose to graze along the water’s edge. The horses weren’t going anywhere, they enjoyed the rest and the grass was good. In this vast land the creeks are the source of life. Water for animals, trees and grasses. It was like an oasis in the desert. Birds were singing and it was cool in the shade of the old cottonwood trees.
Lunch was ready, Lois and Jeanette had outdone themselves again. Of course they were cooking for a group of hungry people who could have eaten anything. What an appetite the work and the open air gave us. Chili, fresh bread, salads, fruit, pies and drinks. It’s amazing how much preparation goes on before the cattle drive begins. Lois and Jeanette are pros at this. Lois is a tall, tough, cowgirl who can ride as well as she cooks. Lois always wore tight fitt’in wranglers and a western shirt usually with the sleeves rolled up, cowboy boots, and long black hair tied back with a piece of leather string. Jeanette, on the other hand, was a shorter, stout built redhead gal, who really knew how to cook and spice the food fit for any gourmet. I think she tasted everything to make sure it was just right, and it was. Jeanette always wore the typical long flowing ranch work dress of the day. Ground length with full apron and long sleeves. Today her dress was light green and her apron was cream colored. Those aprons were wide and the edges doubled as hot pads or taking hot food off the fire. Lois was the cook and Jeanette was the chef. They made a great pair.
As we all ate and filled ourselves with the wonderful food, the cows and horses wondered around as if there was no need to worry or hurry for anything. We felt the same way and some of the folks laid down under the cottonwood trees for a nap, some gathered to talk over the events of the morning while others took walks along the creek. The lunch stop recharged all of us. We were pushed to our limits, or what we thought were our limits, in the morning but the 2 hour lunch break was just what we needed to get ready or the afternoon push.
PUSH TO THE FOOT OF THE MOUNTAINS
"Time to mount up and move on,” yelled Earl and Gary. Lois and Jeanette had cleaned up camp, packed the equipment, put out the fire and were on the wagon headed out for night camp. They had a spirit to be admired. They truly loved the west and I think they loved their work. I’ll tell you climbing back on Split Ear was a job. I was loving it but there were muscles complaining about it. We went about gathering the cattle and headed up a steep embankment on the other side of the creek. This was a slow go. The cows weren’t in the mood. Everyone got behind the herd to push. Yelling and riding the horses right up behind the cows kept them moving. It was slow and we had to ride back and forth across the rear of the herd yelling and pushing practically every cow and calf. What a shock to our bodies that were just minutes before in a euphoric state of rest. We were hard at it again and loving it. After 30 minutes or so we crested the hill to more flats. That was OK by me. On we went for hours. Rotating positions around the herd, riding off for sightseeing and pictures, and watching the building clouds.
It had been hours since lunch and water for the cows. The afternoon heat meant we need more water for the cows. Earl said there was a small pond on up over a small hill if it wasn’t dried up. Eddie, the NY cop, and I rode on ahead to check it out. We rode half a mile and popped over the hill to a small, one acre, pond. It was a great feeling riding up the hill searching for water as if it was the old days and our lives depended on finding water. In reality, it did matter to the cows. They were thirsty and anxious. Eddie and I rode down into the pond before the cows and other riders got there. Eddie is a tall, dark-haired, muscular guy with a reddish mustache. He has tattoos with a wolf howling at the moon on his chest. You can tell he can be a tough guy if need be. He can also be very warm and caring when you get through the tough guy shell. To be standing in water, belly deep to the horse, while Split Ear drank reminded me of movies of the old west. Roy Rogers, The Lone Ranger, and John Wayne had all done this same thing and I was so thrilled in the moment.
Just then the herd crested the hill and 350 cows and calves changed the moment. They came running into the quiet clear pond and gave us a moment of “Look Out”! The pond instantly was full of cows and horses. The water turned a chocolate brown as the mud was stirred up. I thought for sure I could see the water level go up with all the cattle entering the water and then go down from all the drinking. What a sight! Another chance to get off Split Ear and stretch my legs. Water stops like this tend to last a while. I don’t know if the cows need this much time or if the cowboys just take the time to rest and stretch out. We enjoyed the chance to rest and soak in the sights without the dust. The clouds continued to build.
“Push‘em out of the water” was the shout from Earl, “head‘em up, move‘em out!” Have you heard that before? Rawhide! My image of the west and the reality of it were coming together. Almost to the base of the mountains, the clouds were building and the wind was picking up. We were in an area where the rolling foothills created some large ravine and washes. Washes are where flash floods come through, in an instant, and wash out a ravine of all sagebrush and growth. Storms come up in a hurry when you are on the east side of the mountains because the storms generally come from the west and you don’t see them till they pop over the mountain and bang, you’re in them. We were.
“Get your rain gear on” yelled Gary. Earl had ridden up ahead to scout out the terrain. I reached back into my saddle bag to get my poncho. There seemed to be a sense of urgency and commotion going on, even from the ranch hands. I dropped my reins on the horse’s neck as I started to unfold my poncho. Split Ear was turning around as the wind was swirling around. I started to put my poncho over my head when a big gust of wind caught my poncho and it was flapping all around. I don’t know what happened but the flapping must have been in the face of Split Ear and he reared up and began to buck. I was on the ground in a second. Rain beginning to fall, people in all directions, dark sky, thunder and lightning I got up and looked around. Gary shouted, “hobble your horses and get into a ravine”. It’s wild and crazy.
The cows were really unaffected by it all. I guess they spend their whole life out in the storms and rain. I ran over to Split Ear and slowed as I got closer to him. He seemed ok now that the poncho wasn’t flapping in his face. I grabbed the hobbles and bent over to put them on. Hobbles are leather straps that are used to keep the horses from running off if you don’t have anything to tie them to or a corral to put them in. Tying a horse to anything in this weather condition isn’t a good idea anyway because a frightened horse will panic and pull back on the reins and break them or what they are tied to. It was raining and dark, I was concerned and going to make damn sure I wasn’t going to lose my horse. The hobbles form a figure 8 around the front feet of the horse and keep them about 6”-8” apart. The horse can stand there just fine and sometimes tries to hop but won’t get far before he is tired. Split Ear hobbled and I was off to the nearest ravine thinking about flash floods and lightening. This was high adventure.
There was a group of us in the ravine. Wind, rain, lightning flashing all over, thunder and no Gary or Earl in our ravine. Being greenhorns, we conjured up all kinds of frightening things that could happen to us. Being washed away by a flash flood, being struck by lightning, having our horses run off or be struck by lightning. We huddled together, in the mud, down in the ravine, each of us consumed in our own thoughts of mortality. Water started to run down the sides and along the bottom of the ravine. Our imaginations ran wild. Then as quickly as it came up it was over. The rain quit, the wind died down and the sky began to lighten up a little. We climbed out of the ravine and saw others climbing out of neighboring ravines. A ravine is the safest place in lightning we found out from Earl.
“There wasn’t time to do a lot of explain’in”, Earl said. He proceeded to tell us the story of a dude who had been out on this same drive last week in this same area when a storm came up and lightning struck killing him. Earl didn’t want to tell us the story under these conditions but he felt he had to explain the panic feeling among the hands. They all knew the story and were aware of what could happen. There was a silence that fell over the group as we found our horses and gathered the herd. Part of the western experience is the realization of how close to nature we really are and just how insignificant we are in the scope of things. For the next few miles there wasn’t a lot of conversation. I couldn’t help but think about the man who had come out to Wyoming in search of his dream and was struck down in the pursuit. Earl had said that the man was having the time of his life and that we have to remember that each day is a risk and the job is to enjoy it all to the end. I want to remember that.
THE LAST NIGHT OUT ON THE TRAIL
We had driven the cows and calves about 20 miles since we left the lodge, the day before. A large corral and camp area came into view as we reached the top of a large hill. It was still a mile away but the setting as beautiful. Tree covered mountains rising just beyond the camp with some snow on and a triple set of corrals with a well and large watering tank for the animals. This camp is used by many ranches as I have mentioned before. The open range concept works well as long as the cows are all branded. This camp had all of the facilities, outhouses and picnic tables. There were a couple of old travel trailers that were used by sheep herders years before. Our tents were all set up scattered about the large open space around the corrals. The fire was going and the coffee was on. I needed a cup of that stuff. I really could have used a beer or a shot of something. We all began to talk about our experience and we talked about our feelings for the man and what he would have said to us about his adventure. We surmised that he would say “go for it”. He loved what he was doing and what better way to go. I know that may sound a little cliché but why do you think sayings become cliché? It’s because they are true.
We pushed the cows and calves down to the water and left a few folks to watch them as they crowded around the watering whole. As they got their fill of water they were pushed on into the corrals for hay that was scattered about the corrals.
The rest of us unsaddled our horses and picked tents for the night. I found a small tent located out away from the rest of the tents. I love the Wyoming nights and the beauty of the stars and wanted an uninterrupted view and be out of earshot from the campfire. Being early in July, it got dark about 9:30 and that’s when I was heading to bed. The days were long and tiring. After a full day of riding many of the guests were sore and thinking they had made a mistake by signing on for this tough of a dude ranch experience. Sure, I was a little sore too but was having so much fun I wouldn’t change anything.
Unlike the other guests, I am one of those anal retentive type, I was not going to ride on a wet saddle the next day and took my saddle to my tent in case of more rain that night. The leather of the saddles absorbs a lot of water and take a long time to dry. If you are riding a wet saddle and your Wranglers get wet and the movement in the saddle causes rubbing and chaffing which is no fun. We were given a tip by the ranch to wear either running tights or women’s hose which are both tight against your legs and prevent the jeans material from rubbing you raw. I have to admit I am a runner and had running tights in short length and I wore them. That does not prevent sore muscles. My saddle had dried during the afternoon ride and I intended to keep it that way. A couple of the hands saw me carry my saddle to my tent and gave me a hard time. I enjoyed sleeping with my saddle for the smell and did try positioning the saddle as a pillow like they do in the movies. I did something wrong because that wasn’t comfortable.
After I was settled in my tent I was off to the campfire and the tails of the day. The cows were settled in and eating, everyone was in camp, horses unsaddled and put in a separate corral, and a terrific smell in the air of pork chops cooking over the open campfire. I got that cup of coffee, I needed, and had to stop and put into perspective what I was doing. As I gazed around me I could see the mountains to the west we would be climbing tomorrow, and the plains to the east we had spent 2 days crossing. What must it have been like 150 years ago when cattle drives took months and the territories had troubles with Indians? I was so proud to be a part of an experience so close to the past. The sky was very beautiful, deeper blues, bigger horizons, bolder clouds, and a strength to nature you overlook in the day to day world of most of us. The excitement of the adventure continued to fill me.
“Suppers ready” yelled Lois, brought me back from my daydream and was I hungry. We sat around the campfire telling stories of our own experiences of the day and our expectations of the push up the mountains tomorrow. As the sun was setting and the rays of sunlight were poring through the clouds like many waterfalls there was a golden light cast over the camp and a purity to the fresh evening air.
Even though we were all tired in ways we had never been tired before, we were looking forward to the last day of the drive reaching the summer pasture for the cows and the high country lodge located at about 10,000 feet. I think many of the guests were really just looking forward to the showers. You don’t realize how much you miss a shower till you spend the morning behind 350 cows in the dust and heat followed by an afternoon of thunderstorms and a trip to the mud in a ravine. The life of a cowboy! I turned in early like most everyone with one last glimpse of those beautiful stars that lit up the night sky.
To be continued.
Well, what do you think? I have more and will continue on the next post.
