Another summer has come and gone; as usual all too
quickly! But I have to say that it was
not a wasted one, and not one I will soon forget! If I may side step my phenology theme for a
moment, and step into (recent) memory mode, this past summer was one of being
fortunate enough to relive a life from my past that I have lately been missing
terribly. Ok, so it wasn’t really summer
vacation, it was a job, but it didn’t reel like a job. I was getting paid to do something I dearly
loved. I read a quote somewhere that said “Doing what you like is freedom;
liking what you do is happiness”. This
summer I felt true happiness.
Way back in high school and the two years following I lived
and worked on a cattle ranch. When I
first hired on I could not believe they were going to pay me to ride my horse
all day. But then reality set in. Up at 4:00 in the morning – breakfast at 5:00
and in the saddle ready to ride by 6:00 (or in the trucks, depending on what
work we were doing that day). We worked
until the sun went down and by the time we got back to the house it was pretty
much completely dark. Good thing the
horses knew the way back because there were times when we couldn’t see the
ground beneath the horses’ feet.
The work was hard and if you wanted to stay there you did the work, when you
were told to do it. There was no
discussing it, no pampering, and no whining was allowed. We worked six days a week with Sundays off –
except during calving season, when we worked 24/7 with no time off and little
sleep. Once a year there was branding. It was a
nasty job – I never could get used to the smell.
I don’t even want to think about how many fence posts holes
I helped dig or how many fence posts we “planted”, not to mention the hundreds
of miles of wire that was strung and stretched.
Cattle were looked after daily – you were either moving them from one
pasture to another or checking up on them for health and safety reasons. Seemed like every single day we were tending
to wounds and wire cuts. Calves would
get caught up in thickets of thorny roses and never seemed to be able to find
their way out on their own. At those times we were the ones that ended up with cuts and
scrapes, and you didn't complain. You couldn't go back for a band-aid so you simply sucked out the bad blood, wiped it off and kept going..
Part of the ranch was used to grow hay, and when it was cut
we would collect the rectangular bales using two teams of horses pulling large
“sleds”. We stacked the bales by hand,
and had contests of who could stack the most bales the fastest. It did make the work less tedious but we
sometimes got too wrapped up in winning that we stacked bales carelessly. You tend to be more conscious of that after
you have to stop and completely re-stack all of the bales because they fell off
of the sled…
Most days I was so tired that I could barely finish supper,
and then stumbled off to a hot shower and bed – usually by 8:30 or so. I never slept so well in my entire life;
mostly because I was usually exhausted. After I’d been there a while however, I
got used to the hard work and actually found myself relishing it. It felt good to be outside and rewarding when
a job was done – and done well.
I learned to tune up a tractor (they were not computerized
like they are now – a lot less moving parts and standard tools did the trick),
and how to drive a small combine. I
learned how to fix a lot of things with baling wire, the rancher’s “go to” in
an pinch. It worked.
I learned how to rope the cows and got pretty good at it
too. Twice a week in the summer we held team roping events at the ranch. They were small, friendly competitions and
the winnings were minimal, but the local cowboys would come out just the same,
and everyone had fun. Being hands on the ranch didn’t allow us to participate
in the competitions because we had to work the chutes and set the cows, but
twice during the summer the cowboys would trade places with us so we could try
our hand at team roping. No entry fees
were spent and no money was awarded, but we had a great time just the same. I got to be pretty good at headin’ but could
never quite master the timing needed for heeling. But that was ok; at least I
could catch the steers, which even
some of the boys were not able to do.
Ride ‘em cowgirl!
Those six years were jolted back to me this summer, when I
was hired as a Wrangler on a local guest ranch. Oh the joy of betting back in the saddle
again! But once again reality set in
when on my first day I had to help saddle the trail horses and could barely
even lift the 60 pound saddle! I
recalled being able to simply toss my saddle up onto my own horse’s back just
as easy as you please, but now found myself struggling just to lift it higher
than my waist and decided it had been way
too long since I’ve saddled a horse, and I probably needed to start bench pressing saddles to build up my arm strength
again. I had to start using my knees to
get the extra “oomph” I needed to get the saddles up onto the horses, but
before long the arm strength began to return and it was at least less effortless than it was on my first
day.
The trail rides were a blast, and at least there, I was getting paid to ride horses all
day! Guests from all over ascended on us
for the “cowboy” experience, and meeting people from all over the county, and
sometimes from other countries, only enhanced the experience for me.
Guests were able to participate in short cattle drives; basically
just moving the cows from one pasture to another, but they are still cows and
still get ornery, and at times you do have to work to keep them from running off
from the rest of the herd. Having worked
with herds of over 300 cattle, these small drives of about 30 were blissfully
easy for me, but most of our guests were usually city dwellers (or at least from the suburbs), some of whom
had never seen a cow close up before, let alone drive a herd. After we demonstrated how to do it, guests
were given the opportunity to “cut” a cow from the herd, and most of them did. Many of them did very well for a first time
and we cheered their success; it was great fun to see their excitement of being able to tell friends and family back home that they had actually done this.
Often there were times when guests would want an
informational ride, to learn more about the area they were visiting. Having
worked the previous 15 summers at a local state park I had done extensive
research on native plants and trees, and how the Indians had utilized them for
food, medicine and household uses. At
the guest ranch I had several rides where guests wanted to know “all about the
plants” – and did they have the right Wrangler for that.
I told them everything I knew about flowers in bloom, how to
tell Ponderosa Pines from Jeffrey Pines (peel off a small piece of bark – if it
smells like turpentine it’s a Jeffrey Pine, if it smells like vanilla or
butterscotch, it’s a Ponderosa. Really –
try it). I guess word got out because
within a few weeks I had visitors asking for me as their trail guide so I could
tell them about the plants. I started
carrying around a few of the books I’d used for research in my saddled bags,
and index cards to give out with the titles of some of those books; because so
many visitors would ask for that information.
I also made some handsome tips on those rides.
About eight weeks into the season I was guiding a husband
and wife on a two hour ride, and the husband was asking me some questions. To make it easier for him to hear me I was
turned around to face him, causing me to be slightly off balance in the
saddle. Just as I was answering one of
his questions we passed a large thicket of wild roses, where we spooked up
about seven white-tail deer. The deer
just straight up and bolted off, which in turn spooked my horse and he went
straight sideways about ten feet and basically ran out from under me. I felt myself sliding off the saddle and
tried to shake my left foot free of the stirrup, but couldn’t quite do it in
time and as I fell I felt a twinge in my left knee. I landed mostly on my butt when I hit the
ground (thankfully he was a short horse and it wasn't that far to the ground), but I laid back on the
ground and growled out loud at myself for letting that happen – and in front of
guests too. The poor woman was so
worried that I’d hurt myself but I assured her that I was fine, and got back
up. My horse, who I’d assumed had made a
bee line back to the barn, had stopped a short distance away, and I knew he had
said to himself “ooh – GRASS!”, and had stopped running and started grazing. I wanted to run him back to the barn just for
principle, but thought better of that. Instead I climbed back into the saddle
and continued the ride without further incident.
That afternoon I led another two hour ride and the knee felt
find. The next morning however, the knee was extremely painful and swollen, and
I was not able to put much weight on it.
I considered calling in sick, but once I got up and started moving
around the pain subsided and I went to work.
I grounded myself for a week, to allow the knee to heal, but it had
other ideas. It continued to stay swollen and no amount of aspirin or ice could
convince it otherwise. And of course it
was the leg I used to climb up into the saddle, so I was not able to mount the
horse, even with a mounting block. And
if I would have had to dismount during a ride to assist a guest I would have
had to walk all the way back.
So I was reassigned to the Equestrian Center, where I would
be tending to the ranch owner’s nine horses, six draft horses, and a few
retired saddle horses. And at least I would be caring for the horses, I fed and
groomed them, mucked out stalls, keeping the stable clean, and assisting the
Head Teamster with whatever other chores needed to be done (Ahhh, fencing,
every ranch hands favorite job…) There was never a lack of work to be done, and
not being one who likes to sit around and do nothing, it was ideal for me.
One afternoon as I was grooming our two teams of draft horses
for a chuck wagon dinner that evening, I was asked if I wanted to learn how to
drive the teams. Seriously??? I almost yelled out the words - OF
COURSE I WOULD! I was then told
that I would have to learn how to harness them first, and hesitated as I glanced
at the tangle of leather straps that was called a harness. How in the world do you strap all of that
together without getting lost? “It’s
easier than it looks”, I was told. Sure,
ok. But in reality – it was. The harness was already assembled, no need to
take everything apart, and they only weigh about 90 pounds…
I am 5’6” tall. The
two Percherons we used are 6’ and 6’2” tall.
There’s something wrong with that picture – I can barely reach up that
high, let alone throw a harness up there!
BUT… I really wanted to learn how to drive, so I was determined and, come hell or high water, I was going to harness these horses..
The first part is being able to put the collar on the
horse. No slipping it over their heads,
it has to be unbuckled and re-buckled – and the buckles are on the very top of
the collars. You know those 6’ tall
horses? That’s just at the withers –
they hold their heads up a lot higher than that; and that means that the part
of the collar that I have to buckle is out of my reach. Ok, they are horses – and as anyone who has
ever owned or worked with horses will tell you – they will test you. After what
seemed like forever I finally felt more confident with them and gained their
trust, and they willingly held their heads down while I buckled their
collars. Whew!
Now I had to learn exactly how to lift the harnesses off of
the hooks and just get them to the horses.
You have to carry them a certain way so that when you put the hames on
the collar (it wraps around the collar and has the two metal posts that stick up from
the horse’s neck), the rest of the harness just falls into place. It’s like a dance – arms held out in the position;
don’t step on the straps dragging on the floor because you’re too short to be
able to keep them off the ground. Easy,
right?
The first time I attempted to place the harness onto one of
the horses, I just stood there; holding the harness and looking up at the
horse. Funny, this horse didn’t look
this tall yesterday… How in the world was I going to do this? Do we have a step ladder? Unlike the saddles, my knees were useless
for leverage in trying to heft this harness.
There was only one way to do it – I let out a loud groan as I put
everything I had into trying to get the hames up onto the collar, but it fell
short. Well, at least it was on the horse, and I started shoving
leather straps up and over the animal’s back, making adjustments as I was
able. I had to lift one side of the
hames at a time to get it onto the collar and had to make several attempts, but
I finally got it set just right and quickly buckled the strap to hold it in
place. Once that was done I readjusted
all of the straps to make sure the rest of the harness was sitting where it was
supposed to be, and proceeded to finish securing the harness. Three buckles and three clips – no it really
wasn’t all that bad. It wasn’t pretty,
but I got it done!
Oh my stars, now I have to harness the other one too? It was pretty much the same procedure, and I
found myself continually apologizing to the horses for being so clumsy, and
thanking them for being so very patient.
It took a few weeks before I could harness the horses
without instruction, although I still needed help at times to get the collars
buckled. But my arms just kept getting
stronger and stronger and by then end of the month I was able to put on the
collars and harness them without any help.
I was so proud of myself!
Thankfully the other team of horses was much smaller – Norwegian Fjords,
only 14 hands – just under five feet tall at the withers. They were not necessarily any easier to
harness when I first learned how, but it took a lot less time.
Now that I knew how to harness, I had to learn how to hitch
them to the wagons. It was all very
confusing and I had to make myself a mental list of what order things needed to
be done. Put on the bridle and buckle
the throat latch; attach the check rein to the bridle; drop the lead rope; attach
the lines (not reins, but lines), to
the bridle, and then the cross lines; tie up the lead rope; lift the yoke off
the ground and clip the harness to the yoke (it only weighs 110 pounds); unhook
the chains from the harness and attach them to the trees (behind the horses),
inside chain first so you have an escape route should the horses bolt (did they
really think I was fast enough to jump out of the way of a wagon that was
inches behind me?) And always, always, hold onto the lines! That way if the horses do start to move you
have a way to stop them.
Passengers attending the chuck wagon dinners were dropped
off at a specific location and we picked them up with horse drawn wagons and
drove them to where they would be eating dinner. As I was not being required to
learn to drive I was doing this mostly on my own time and therefore was not
able to drive with passengers because of liability issues while I was off the
clock. I went along, but simply rode shotgun and listened to the instructions
and explanations, all while eagerly awaiting my chance on the lines. While the guests ate dinner, one of the
teamsters and I would take a wagon out into a nearby field, where I would get
the chance to drive the team. It was not
easy. First of all, the horses were used
to their regular teamster giving them commands, and completely ignored me. She had to blow quiet kisses to them to get
them to even move. Learning how to handle the lines was quite another
thing. As the horses move and turn, the
lines are pulled and tugged, and you constantly have to readjust them in your
hands. I think the most difficult part
for me, at least in the beginning, was finding a position for my arms that felt
comfortable and secure, and gave me the leverage I needed to control the
lines. And then there’s that one factor
that you really have no control over; the minds of those horses, who never
seemed to be on the same page. It seemed I was always fighting them to stay in
the center of the road. One horse wanted to veer off to the right, the other to
the left. Really, guys? You’re a team
– you’re supposed to be working together. Apparently they didn’t think so.
It finally all fell into place for me one evening, when the
teamster I was riding with noticed that I was pulling both lines to the left
and asked why. I told her I was trying
to turn them around and she told me to think about what I was doing. I stopped the horses and the squeaky wheels
in my mind starting churning. Then the light bulb went on.
I’m used to riding saddle horses that are neck-reined;
meaning that when holding the reins in one hand you lay them over the horse’s
neck and lightly move the reins in the direction you want the horse to go. Pulling them to the left puts light pressure
on the right side of the horse’s neck.
They are trained to move away from the pressure, so they go to the
left. Moving the reins to the right puts
pressure on the left side of the neck and the horse goes to the right. Also, you always leave slack in the reins. If
you hold the reins too tight the horse thinks you want it to stop, or even back
up.
While driving the team I was using the same techniques on
the lines that I would on the reins of a saddle horse, when in fact it should
be just the opposite. While driving
teams you never allow too much slack in the lines but want to keep them just a
little bit taut. This allows the horses
to feel even the slightest movement you make on the lines so they know what you
want them to do. Also with two horses
you only have two lines. The line for
the right side horse is attached to the outside, or the right side of the bit,
and vice versa for the left side horse. To
the inside of each bridle was a cross line, which worked in conjunction with
the outside lines to pull both horses in the direction you want them to go – if you only pull on one line.
I suddenly realized that I had been confusing the horses
terribly, in essence asking them to move both left and right at the same time –
no wonder I hadn’t been able to keep them in the center of the road! That little revelation made a world of
difference and suddenly the horses began to work so much better for me. In no time at all I felt so much more
comfortable with the team and was driving them with much more confidence. I’d also
had my hours shifted to a couple of evenings a week so that I was on the clock
for the chuck wagons, and was able to drive with
passengers. I have to admit that I was a
bit nervous at first, but that soon dissipated as the horses responded better
for me all the time.
Then one morning we got notice that there would be a special
chuck wagon lunch. Since our other
teamster also worked a day job in town, she was not able to be there, and I
would be driving solo! I was certain I
could do it; I would not have said so if I didn’t feel I was able to. Because
it was such a large group we would not drive them to the site but would be
available for rides. At first no one seemed
to be interested in a wagon ride, but my team was getting restless and I was
told to go ahead and take them out into the meadow to let them get the kinks
out. I did and they worked perfectly for
me. When we returned the other team went
out and several guests walked up and asked if they cold have a ride. I told them absolutely – that’s what we were
there for and they climbed into the wagon.
My first solo ride with passengers; I was nervous and excited all at the
same time. I told the horses to ‘step
up’ and they moved out calmly and easily, listening to my every word. I took
the guests on a 15 minute ride, feeling more and more confident with each step
the horses took. I was even relaxed
enough to carry on a conversation with one of the guests, something I hadn’t
been able to do before because I had been keeping so focused on the
horses. I returned the passengers to
their starting point and picked up several more for another ride. By the time everyone had had a ride the
shuttle vans were there to pick them up, and once they had all left we drove
the empty wagons back to the trailer, unhitched the horses and loaded them
up.
Back at the stable I un-harnessed the horses, loaded them
back up in the trailer and took them back to the dry lot, from where they were
turned back out into their pasture.
As I watched them run out into the pasture I realized that I
had a huge smile on my face. I had
driven passengers solo and everything had gone perfectly. I’d just done something I’d never done before
and it could not have gone better – it was exhilarating!
Working on the ranch when
I was a kid we used stock trucks; I’d never pulled a trailer. But this summer I had learned to pull a horse trailer – with
horses inside. I towed the freight wagons, the chuck wagon,
and the horse trailer – not only on the ranch, but on the highway. I’d stacked 50 pound bags of grain, threw 60
pound saddles; hefted 70 pound bags of salt and thrown 90 pound harnesses onto
2,000 pound horses. And I’d driven the
teams – both of them. I had more
physical strength, more confidence, and more assurance than I’ve felt in a very
long time. I felt better, I looked
better, and I had a much more positive attitude. The cowgirl in me had been revived – oh, how
I’ve missed her. The summer on this
ranch had helped center me – both physically and mentally, and revived my
spirit. I feel triumphant!
Winter has set in with a harsh reality as our overnight
temperatures have dipped into the single digits the past few nights, creating a
hard frost on everything. The biting
cold of the morning was in sharp contrast to the warmth of the eastern sky as the
sunrise lit up the sky and silhouetted a large tree across the road with brilliant
shades of red and orange. 
A quick trip to Lee Metcalf Wildlife Refuge late Saturday
afternoon revealed slim pickins’ for birds, but some wonderful lighting from
the setting sun. 
A pair of the swans took flight as I was photographing them, and circled over me before heading to parts unknown. I was fortunate to capture them in flight, with the fading sunlight over the mountains behind them. 
And the lighting was absolutely perfect for a final shot as I left the refuge - that of one of my favorite barns, which I believe was part of an old homestead settled long before the refuge was established. I've taken many photos of this barn over the years, but I have to say that this one is now my favorite! 
