A Montana Ranching Adventure

While planning our trip to the TX Ranch, in Montana, I experienced difficulty explaining it to other people.  Part of the problem was I had never actually visited the TX Ranch, myself.  My expectations were based on second-hand information through friends and websites.  The bigger problem, though, was in trying to explain the unique experience offered by the TX Ranch.

“Dawson and I are planning a trip to a cattle ranch in Montana, where we will spend a full week working cattle from horseback,” I would say.

This was typically met with a response such as, “Oh, like the movie, City Slickers!”

“Well… sort of…  except hopefully a bit less touristy and a bit more real commercial working cattle ranch.”

“So, like a dude ranch?”

“No, not really.  I mean, yeah, it is a ranch with paying guests.  However, dude ranch usually means sleeping in air-conditioned cabins and going on guided trail rides.  That’s not what this ranch is about.”

So… having just experienced my first visit to the TX Ranch, I will try to describe what it is like.

The TX Ranch is located deep in the Pryor Mountains of southern Montana and northern Wyoming.  I had understood it to be located about a two-hour drive south of Billings.  I did not realize a full hour of that drive is off paved roads, mostly on pasture tracks winding back through the mountain meadows, up and down steep grades, crossing creeks in deep gullies, and stopping every mile or so to open and close gates.

The scenery is stunning.  Each curve and hill reveals yet another scenic panorama of soaring mountains slashed by deep ravines and steep valleys.  The spectacular Pryor Mountain scenery is a continual backdrop to every activity at the ranch.

The camp accommodations are quite rustic.  We slept on cots in tents.  We had no electricity or internet access.  Our only water supply was from a nearby mountain spring with a gravity-fed water line directing water into a plastic tank for our use.  Toilets consisted of outhouses.  Showers were accomplished via camp shower bags, whose temperature depended on the amount of sunshine on a given day.

The kitchen and dining hall are in a log cabin lighted by Coleman lanterns.  Meals are prepared on a gas stove fueled by propane bottles of an appropriate size to haul in the back of a pickup truck.

Overall, the accommodations are what one might expect at a working cow camp… which is exactly what this is.  That should be the first clue as to what the week was like.

We all signed on to spend a week experiencing the life of a historic western cowboy and the TX Ranch did not disappoint.  The owner, Hip, treated us like the latest group of newly hired employees.  Each morning after breakfast and saddling horses, Hip discussed the plans for the day.  Then we would split into smaller groups assigned to different areas and ride out to gather cattle.

The first day, we gathered cattle out near the horse pasture and pushed them to a hilltop where they were easy to hold.  There we roped, ear tagged, castrated, and inoculated the calves.

The second day, we wrangled horses across a 15 mile drive through rugged country to the Deadman Camp in preparation for the following day.

The third day, we were dropped off at Deadman, where we each saddled a fresh horse (because our first horse had been ridden hard for two days in a row).  We then proceeded to gather cows from the Deadman area to drive back to a pasture closer to our camp at Lone Wolf.  That was a long, hard, dusty workday.  We worked 12 hours, with 11 hours in the saddle, gathering cows in mountainous terrain with dense brush filling the draws and creek banks.

On the ride back, we paused at each gate to cut the herd, making sure only TX-owned cattle passed through the gate.  I really enjoyed watching Hip and his daughter Des cut the herd.  They were amazing!  They each sized up at a glance which cows belonged.  Then, with a subtle side-step of their horse to leave an opening while applying light pressure, they would signal three or four cows to abandon the herd and walk away.  A slight shift the other direction and another cow walked off.  It was truly poetry in motion watching the two of them work together to cut out all cattle not belonging to the TX herd.

The fourth day, we made another gather of cattle near Star Hill, including those we brought back from Deadman the previous day.  Then we roped, branded, ear-tagged, castrated, and inoculated the calves.

The fifth day, we gathered cows near the Lone Wolf Camp and nearby pastures and creeks.  We used the Lone Wolf corrals to sort out all the calves, then cut the calves to only those who were not ear tagged.  Then we worked the calves in the corral, which allowed everyone who wanted an opportunity to rope calves from the ground, without the added stress of managing reins and handling a horse while dallying to the saddle horn.

The sixth day was another gather, followed by working the calves, followed by moving the herd north to another pasture.

In six days, I rode four different horses.  Each horse was a solid mount willing to ride up steep hills, down into deep ravines, and through thick brush to flush out cattle.  Each horse worked hard all day, with enough energy to finish out the day pushing, holding or roping cattle.

Some days included a lot of dismounting and remounting to stoop down walking thru the thick brush to flush cows out.  I learned to always position the horse with the off side downhill for easier dismounting and remounting.  All the horses ground-tied fairly well.  My preferred mount, 773, stayed exactly where I dropped his reins, while I ran yelling thru the brush to flush cows. He then stood patiently while I returned to remount and ride off through thick brush to push the cattle into the growing herd.

I learned to ride with split reins… something I previously never felt comfortable doing.  A week of riding with split reins taught me they are no big deal.  Plus, they come in pretty handy for swatting a contrary cow on the rump.

The first day, when Hip asked for volunteers to rope, I volunteered.  As a result, I was part of the roping team for the remainder of the week.  Although I was not very proficient, I did manage to rope about fifteen calves across the week.

Those of you who have been tracking my personal story will recall learning to rope has been a goal of mine for a few years, now… since before cancer surgery took a major nerve in my right shoulder… limiting both strength and motion in that shoulder… as well as loss of muscle memory.  So… bear with me as I do my happy dance for a moment.

I roped calves!!!  Live calves… from horseback!!!   🙂

Dawson also roped… much more proficiently than I did.  In fact, Dawson was pretty much our top roper.  His experience competitively roping in the arena definitely proved useful.  However, he learned roping in the middle of a herd is a lot different from competitive arena roping.

I also gained confidence trotting, loping, and galloping across all sorts of rough terrain.  While gathering cattle, it was easy to forget to worry about my balance or the horse’s response, as both the horse and I focused on getting the job done.

Perhaps the best (and least expected) part of the trip was the people.  Both the TX crew and our fellow guests were wonderful!  Everyone worked hard, joked, teased, laughed, helped, and had a good time.  There is something about spending hours working hard together, backing each other up, followed by relaxing, eating and laughing together, that helps develop a close-knit team.

Thinking back across the week, several humorous moments stand out… mostly having to do with my lack of understanding.

For example, there was the long, hard, dusty day we brought cattle back from Deadman.  We were pushing the cattle along a trail with a poorly maintained barb-wire fence on the right side.  Several cows kept making a run to escape through holes in the fence and I was working hard to keep them going down the trail with the rest of the herd.  Suddenly two cows and a calf made a run for a spot where the fence was lying on the ground.  I pushed my horse into a lope, trying to reach the hole in time to turn them back, but they made it through the fence.  I tried to pursue them, but my horse hesitated at crossing the fence.  When I pushed him, he tentatively started to cross the low wire, then pulled back, momentarily snagging a front shoe on a wire.  By the time I got my horse settled and extracted from the fence wire, the cows were long gone into the brush along the creek.

Frustrated, I glanced toward Hip for direction.  “Why don’t you ride ahead to the next gate and make sure the cows go through the gate?” Hip suggested.

I rode ahead with Des following.  About 100 yards down the trail, we came to an unobstructed gap at a fence corner.  “Is this the gate Hip was talking about?” I asked Des.

“Yeah, just make sure the cows don’t wander off down that trail to the left,” Des responded.

“Do you mean we’re pushing the cows through a gate into the very pasture I’ve been working so hard to keep them out of?”

“Yep!” Des quipped, with a wry grin and a nod.

“Dang!  I was working my butt off keeping them on this side of that fence!” I exclaimed.

“Yes, you were!” laughed Des.

Later that evening, after dinner, I told Hip, “I’m confident I gave you 110% effort all day today.  However, I only had about 40% understanding what I was supposed to be doing.  Which means I was only about 44% effective and about 66% counterproductive.”

“That’s great!” Hip responded, “Joe, if I had a half-dozen riders all 44% effective, we could get a lot done in a day.”

I fell asleep pondering these events.  As I drifted off to sleep, Ray Hunt’s words regarding horsemanship came to mind, “Set it up and let it happen.”  Ray’s approach to horsemanship centered around setting the horse up for success, then letting him figure it out for himself.

As the week progressed, I realized Hip and Des seem to follow this model in pretty much everything they do.  Hip gave us only a bare minimum of verbal direction on what we were to do each day.  Then he left us to figure out the rest through a combination of watching and doing.

The best part of this approach is the freedom allowed each of us to try new things.

When I set out to gather a couple of cows spotted on a mountaintop, nobody called me back.  Nobody told me I would never be able to gather those cows and get them back in the herd on my own.  I was allowed to explore, try, and figure things out for myself.  As a result, I grew confident trying new things and riding rough trails… trusting my horse to go where I asked then get me safely back.

Sometimes it worked out as planned and sometimes it didn’t.  Either way, I had fun trying!

Isn’t that similar to the approach God uses in directing our steps?  He tends to give us a bare minimum of direction, then grant us the freedom to enjoy figuring out the specifics for ourselves.

When God told Abraham to leave his home in Ur of the Chaldeans and travel to the land of Canaan, He didn’t provide a whole lot of specifics.  Abraham spent the rest of his life wandering around Canaan, trying to figure what he was to do next, while trusting God to fulfill His promises and provide what was needed.  Sometimes Abraham made wise choices and sometimes he didn’t.  Either way, he gained a deeper relationship with God based on a higher level of trust.

When God told Moses to go ask Pharaoh to let the Israelites go, He did not provide many specifics.  Moses had to act in faith with a bare minimum of understanding of the plan.  Then God provided further direction as needed.  By the end of his life, Moses had led the people of Israel out of Egypt, through 40 years of living in the desert, and had gained a much deeper relationship with God and a greater reliance on God’s trustworthiness.

I see God working in our lives today in much the same manner.  God tends to give us a bare minimum of details in asking us to step out in faith.  Many times the details are left for us to figure out for ourselves.  Sometimes we make wise choices and sometimes we don’t.  Either way, we can trust God to work through our meager faith to work His will and purpose in our lives while drawing us into deeper relationship with Himself.

Purpose

The last few months, Knockout (my 7-yo AQHA quarter horse gelding) and I have been spending a lot of time checking cows and checking fence. Most weekday evenings we do a quick check before dark.  Most weekend mornings we do a more relaxed and thorough check, spending a little more time getting acquainted with each cow.

It would sound a lot cooler if I said we’ve been working cows…but that might be a bit misleading.  We’re not out there roping, branding, or doctoring cows.  In general, we’re not even moving cows…though we have started playing with gathering and pushing a little bit just to get a feel for it.  We even pushed a few calves back into the pasture after they got out, the other day.  Most of the time, we just ride around making sure all the cows look healthy and sound, read ear tag numbers to check off my list, and count the calves to make sure everyone is accounted for.  Then we ride the fence to make sure it’s in good repair…and ride by the electric fence chargers to make sure they’re clicking and flashing like they’re supposed to be.

It’s pretty simple stuff. I suspect this is the sort of stuff that once made up the lifestyle of a historical cow-boy.  Before the dangerous Texas cattle drives through Indian Territory added the sense of adventure, and before the dime novels romanticized the western cowboy lifestyle, a cow-boy was simply a boy who took care of the cows…much like a shepherd takes care of sheep.

That’s what Knockout and I have been doing the last few months. We check cows.

I’ve been amazed at how checking cows has changed the dynamic of our rides. We used to ride the same pastures and woods trails we’re riding now.  Previously, though, the focus was on us and our teamwork.

Sure, I enjoyed the beauty of nature as we went, and we would sometimes stop to watch the calves play. However, my main focus was on Knockout.  Was Knockout responding promptly to my cues?  Was Knockout keeping his attention on me?  Was Knockout responsive to my body language?  Was Knockout tense or was he relaxed as we rode?  Was Knockout compliant or resistant?  Was Knockout traveling in straight lines at constant rates of speed?

Then there was also a lot of focus on myself. Were my hands light on the reins?  Did I have plenty of slack in the reins?  Was I practicing good rein management?  Were my cues light?  Was my timing good?  Was I carrying an independent seat?  Was I dropping all pressure when headed in the desired direction?  Was my body positioned facing the direction I wanted to go and eyes focused on a distant goal point?

Similarly, Knockout’s main focus was on me and my cues…except when he was focused on where he wanted to go…like back home. Or when he was focused on what he could startle at…like my helmet brushing a branch as we rode under it.  When these things happened, my focus became making sure Knockout’s focus returned to me.

Now, none of these are bad things. For the stage we were at, they were necessary areas of focus.  Furthermore, they have never stopped being necessary.  I still pay attention to these things…but now they’re more in the background…not subconscious but not at the forefront of my focus, either.

Now my primary focus is on the cows and fencing. Where is the herd?  Is the herd together or scattered?  What is my best approach to make sure I check each cow?  What is my best route thru the herd as I check ear tags?  Which ear tags can I check off from a distance just by knowing the markings of individual cows?  What is my best approach to each cow, to get a good look at her ear tag without spooking her into turning away from me or walking off?  Are any cows hidden behind that wall of brush near the back fence line?  Are any cows lying down in the shade of the woods?  Why am I coming up one cow short in my count?  Where is the missing cow hidden…or did I just overlook her as I rode through the herd?

Likewise while checking fence, I’m focused on seeing a thin wire. Is it tight or sagging?  If it is sagging, where’s the break?  Is the wire on each post insulator?  If not, I need to dismount to put the wire back in place at each fence post.  Is anything shorting the fence out?  Does that fallen branch need to be moved?  Why isn’t the electric fence charger ticking?  Is the battery connection loose?  When did we last charge the battery?

Now, behind all that, I’m still riding. I’m still doing rein management and hopefully using appropriate pressure with good timing.  But that is no longer in the forefront of my thoughts.

And you know what? As my focus has changed, Knockout’s focus has begun to change, too.  He’s no longer looking for a chance to go back home.  We’re riding through rougher terrain with more high brush and low branches than we ever did before, yet Knockout rarely startles at anything.  Like myself, Knockout is focused on the cows.  As I leave one cow and turn to head toward another, Knockout is already looking to see which cow we’re approaching next.  As we approach a cow, Knockout is eagerly waiting to see if we’re going to direct the cow somewhere or just read an ear tag and ride on.

Knockout loves directing cows! We’re not very good at it, yet, but he sure loves doing it.

As we work together, Knockout and I are both learning to plan approach angles and speed. We’re learning to adjust our speed to intercept a moving cow without spooking her.  When pushing a cow, we’re learning to be aware of speed, flight zone, and balance point.  We’re learning to trust each other to do our jobs even as we learn together and fill in for each other.

While checking fence, Knockout has begun to keep one eye on the wire just as I am. He knows to stay near the fence line without getting too close.  He is beginning to learn when something is wrong with the fence wire we are going to stop for me to dismount and correct the issue.  And he has learned to stand patiently ground-tied while I fix the fence.

I’ve also noticed I have less tendency to micromanage than before. When we’re tracking a cow, I’m likely to just let Knockout go, confident he knows what to do.  When we’re checking fence, if I can see Knockout is paying attention to tracking beside the fence, I’m likely to just let him go, confident he knows to follow the wire.  When fixing fence, I just drop the reins on the ground and go about my business, trusting Knockout to stay put until I come back.  When crossing a creek, I’m likely to let him move over a couple of steps if he chooses…after all he’s the one who has to maintain his footing as we cross.

Tending cows is becoming a common goal we both work on together. Rather than focusing on our teamwork, we are beginning to work together as a team for a common purpose.  Rather than practicing transitions, we frequently transition speed and gait as part of the job.  Rather than practicing turns and laterals, we turn and move as needed to get the job done.

It’s sort of like the difference between a football practice and a football game. Yes, the practice is important and necessary, but the game is where the team really comes together toward a common goal.

Working together on necessary tasks has given our rides a sense of purpose. Knockout and I have both embraced that purpose, resulting in a closer sense of partnership.  We don’t work against each other as much, because we’re busy working together toward a common goal.

Isn’t that what God does with us?

When Jesus discipled the twelve apostles, they didn’t just sit around soaking up Jesus’ teaching and enjoying the fellowship. Jesus sent them out to minister to others.  He gave them very explicit instructions on how they were to conduct themselves, and told them:

“And as you go, preach, saying, ‘The kingdom of heaven is at hand.’ Heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons. Freely you received, freely give.” (Matthew 10:7-8)

Jesus didn’t just minister to the disciples. Rather He asked them to join Him in ministry.  He entrusted them with an important job.  Jesus gave clear and explicit directions without micromanaging.  He called the apostles to a mission with purpose.

Jesus calls us to the same purposeful mission:

And Jesus came up and spoke to them, saying, “All authority has been given to Me in heaven and on earth. Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I commanded you; and lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age.” (Matthew 28:18-20)

Notice we are not alone in this mission. Jesus is with us.  We’re working together toward a common goal.

At His last supper with the disciples, Jesus gave them further instructions:

“A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another, even as I have loved you, that you also love one another. By this all men will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another.” (John 13:34-35)

This is our mission, our purposeful common goal. Go make disciples and love one another.

This is how Christ draws us into closer relationship with Him…by inviting us to join Him in working toward these common goals.

Are you working with Christ to accomplish these necessary tasks?