After our late season snowstorm last weekend, guests trickled in and filled the ranch with a new life. This week has allowed for some larger projects to be completed. Myself and a few others knocked down and replaced an old buck fence. A buck fence is the wooden railed fence with leg supports, characteristic of the western landscape.
A walk along one of those fences will make obviously clear their inherent benefits. The rocky ground in many locations makes sinking a post impossible without a drill and a few sticks of dynamite. Tough terrain combined with plentiful pines makes the buck fence the appealing method for keeping stock fenced in. The legs are notched to fit together and rails are nailed to the face in an alternating pattern. A simple enough design that even an amateur fencer like myself can build a solid structure that will last 15 to 20 years.
Since my first horse ride I’ve been in the saddle a couple more times. Sandy was my steed of choice. A draft/mustang cross he’s a big guy, and perfect for keeping my feet dry on cold stream crossings. He’s well suited for this type of terrain and makes a walk up a hill feel like an elevator ride. Many of the horses, particularly the mustangs, were once wild horses on BLM land as much as deer are wild animals in Minnesota. They were adopted from the U.S. government and tamed. I learned that more recently, abandoned horses have become an issue in parts of the west where owners turn their horses loose when they can’t afford to care for them anymore.
Atop of Sandy we rode through Empty Saddle Meadow (historically named in honor of dudes unable to keep their feet in the stirrups while galloping across the field) and continued up to Screaming Woman overlook, where, as legend has it, a rancher’s wife ended her life with a leap after he left her. Other trails have less threatening names such as Big Skyline and Sarah’s Meadow but the all promise great scenery.
Bear tracks are quite obvious along many of the trails, but the animals themselves remain unseen. Mountain Bluebells, Forget-Me-Nots, and Indian Paintbrush include some of the many wildflowers popping up that add some color to the greyed sage hillsides. Nearby limestone cliffs are dotted with caves and the depth of the river changes daily depending on temperatures and high elevation snowmelt.
Traveling the country side here gives me the feeling of living in a movie set. The distant mountains, cliffs, and meadows seem like an oil canvas backdrop. While working on the buck fence I looked up at the muddy truck in the pasture, and with the mountains in the background it was easy to envision a truck commercial. In fact, I’ve been told that the Chevy Volt commercial that is currently airing on TV was filmed just up the road from the ranch. The commercial depicts a time lapse with different scenes, like an old gas station, fading in and out of the background.
Living an hour from Cody makes any trip to the big city a special occasion. Twice a week the ranch sends someone to town to gather and deliver mail, dump garbage and recycling, and pick up supplies, both for the ranch and personal use. This week was my chance to get a tour of where the essential stops in town were, for future reference. As my guide was Jimmy, another ranch hand. Unlike myself, he’s seen quite a few dudes come and go from this place in his 15 years on staff. He’s 60 years old, give or take a few sunsets. A person would never guess he was originally from Illinois since for the past 30 years he has called Wyoming home and can blend in with most of the locals.
In describing Jimmy, one must explain a few things. First, he likes to talk. Secondly, he’s got a lot to say. That combination of traits makes for an overwhelming car ride. He is a very nice person and goes out of his way to make a person feel at ease. His conversation skills are incredible and his humor and wit are responsible for the many friendships he maintains. Finally, he’s worked quite a few long days in his lifetime and therefore has no qualms about encouraging a person to take it easy, slow down, and save some work for the next day. During one instance he nearly yelled at me to drop the fence rails I was hoisting into my arms because it was close to quitting time. I believe him to be the biggest threat to my Midwestern work ethic I’ve ever encountered.
In town we were slowly checking the stops off our list. The weather was warm and our windows were down. At a red light downtown we pulled up next to an idling truck when I saw Jimmy begin to stare at the much younger girl in the driver’s seat. Horrified and embarrassed by his behavior, I quickly became uneasy. Then, much to my worst fear, he started talking to her. “Hey lady, you need to stop watching all those young guys cross the street and pay attention to where you’re going before you hit somebody,” he shouted over the idiling engines. “Jimmy, knock it off,” I boldly and nervously yelled, but he paid no attention to me as it quickly became apparent that he knew this person. She laughed off his comment as if it were to be expected from him and for a few more seconds they engaged in conversation like old friends before the light changed.
At the post office he bumped into a friend in the parking lot. At the liquor store he knew the clerks and a couple of the customers. At the grocery store he chatted with the cashier like they were neighbors, and of course, he was best friends with the lady at Cowboy Cuts, his barbershop (where I read the paper and caught a nap while he got his ears lowered). He knew everyone, everywhere we went.
His knowledge goes beyond the layout and occupants of the town. He knows horses in and out and the landscape better than anyone I’ve met thus far. There’s a lot to learn from this man and his accumulated wisdom, and I know one summer won’t be enough to soak it all in, even if he were to talk non stop. Now that’s a theory I hope remains untested.
Happy Trails
