Thursday, October 3, 2013

The Humble Currant Patch

This year I have been doing a lot of family tree research, trying to get a better picture of both the Hunewill side of my family as well as my mother's side, the Millers.  In doing all this digging for information on my ancestors, I stumbled upon a letter written from my great grand aunt (Stan Hunewill Sr.'s sister, Millie) to a grocer in Gardnerville, Nevada.  In it, she wonders if perhaps the grocer would be interested in carrying red currant berries grown and picked from the ranch.  The reply was a bit curious and apologetic at the same time, saying that it might be possible, but we might not have the quantity that would be needed.

I spent a few seconds marveling at the letter, then moved on to the next, but as the day wore on, I kept thinking about our currant patch that sits just north of the office.  As a child, I had picked the small crimson berries off the bush and eaten them right as they were ripe, savoring their irresistible combination of tart and sweet.  They taste so much like summer in Bridgeport, of childhood, crisp mountain mornings, warm sunny days, rides in the meadows, dips in the creek, cattle grazing happily on green grass, and the thunder of horses hooves as they were turned out at the end of the day.  I suppose when you're reading old letters or newspapers, it's hard to avoid a bit of nostalgia.  I certainly couldn't.

I don't exactly know when the currant bushes were planted, but I know it must have been well before the 1920's.  It's hard to grow things in Bridgeport since we have such an incredibly short growing season and the threat of snow and frost every month of the year, but the currants do quite well.  I have heard stories about my great-great-great-grandmother, Esther, tending a garden and I can't imagine the amount of effort that would have taken, and though it was common then, it must have been extremely difficult due to the climate.  My dad, Jeff, told me that the patch of currants used to be much bigger until a fire wiped about half of them out.  They have survived brutal winters and droughts, mild winters and wet summers.  They're tough.

The hearty and unassuming red currant bush.  All the greenery is deceiving; there are HUNDREDS of bunches of berries waiting to be picked!

And so, in the spirit of my ancestors, I decided to use what we had to make something tasty...red currant jelly.  I will admit it sounded much easier to do than it actually was--picking those little berries takes a lot of patience!

If you part the branches of the currant bushes...you find little jewel colored clusters of red currants.  It's a treasure hunt on every bush! 

You can imagine how many of these little bunches it takes to make a pound...or two pounds...but they sure are pretty!


They look like rubies-little round, perfect rubies.

At this point, you should all know that I have never made jelly before, nor had I ever had an interest in doing so! Luckily my mom used to do it all the time, so she agreed to lend a hand and her expertise.

Happily bubbling away, doin' some cool chemistry stuff.  I was never good at chemistry so I can't tell you exactly what.


When the aroma of the heated berries started to fill the kitchen, I had a deja vu moment.  I knew I'd smelled that wonderful smell before, and my mom said she used to make jelly all the time when my brother and I were small.  It took me right back to when we used to move to Smith Valley in the Fall so my brother and I could attend school (we didn't go to school in Bridgeport for a number of reasons).  It reminded me of the way a Fall day has that particular warmth that is not at all like summer, the way the nights are a little cooler week by week, and the way the trees start to turn warm colors and rustle a little more dryly in the breeze.

After straining the pieces of berry out, we added some sugar and water and boiled it again before we added the pectin which allows the jelly to set and not become syrupy.  Apparently you're supposed to let the boiled berry liquid drain through a jelly bag overnight so that you get a clear jelly.  I was far too impatient for that, and besides, who CARES if your jelly is a little cloudy?! It still tastes the same! 

     Into the hot water bath they go!  They say a watched pot never boils, and let me tell you, it's true.  I was so eager to try the jelly I could hardly stand it!

And there is the finished product!  Ruby-red currant jelly!  Grown, picked, and jellied at the ranch.  And it tastes sooooooooooo good!

After the red currant jelly making, my mom and I decided to make some different kinds:  wild rose hip jelly, red currant jam, strawberry rhubarb jam, and later in the Fall, Elderberry jelly.  

So I picked more currants.  And I picked rose hips.  And I cut stalks of ranch-grown rhubarb.  We had raspberries on hand but not strawberries, so we substituted raspberries for the strawberries.  What an amazingly delicious substitution!  My dad hasn't let his jar of the raspberry rhubarb jam out of his sight!


 Some freshly picked currants for jam and some rhubarb in the background...mmmmmmmmmm!

Red currant jam in the making.  I wish "smell-o-vision" was a real thing! 

 Raspberry rhubarb jam in the making.  This stuff is incredible, if I do say so myself!

 These are all the rose hips I picked, simmering down to get soft so they can be mashed and strained.  It took a lot of effort to get two 8 oz jars, so we'll see if it happens again!  We ended up with syrup instead of jelly because I was impatient.  But the syrup is fantastic on vanilla ice cream, so it was no big deal.

The finished products!  From L to R: Currant jelly, raspberry rhubarb jam, red currant plum syrup, rose hip syrup, and in the back, red currant jam.

Well, that was our canning project for the summer...we have about 11 or 12 more pounds of currants to make jelly...those currant bushes sure were productive this year!  All in all I'd say it was a success for my first time canning anything.  I have a lot more appreciation for the amount of work it takes to get your own food and thoroughly enjoyed it.

That's all for now...or until I can get more pictures off my phone to edit and put in a blog.

Until next time, dream of green meadows, fat cattle, shiny horses, and blue skies!
  

Friday, July 12, 2013

Horse Drive 2013, Day 3: In Which We Battle the Wind, etc.

Day 3.  Ohhhhh Day 3, how I wish your weather was nicer!  Last year, it snowed on us, and for a while, it was a full on winter storm with incredibly low visibility.  And it was cold.  Have you ever trotted mile upon mile while wearing a waterproof duster over several layers?  It's great for testing our whether your layers are truly "moisture-wicking."  I found out my baselayer was...but unfortunately, it wicked all the perspiration right in to my sweatshirt and jacket, where it was trapped by the waterproof duster.  It's not a really pleasant feeling, even if I was warm.  Luckily, it did stop snowing and I was able to take my duster off, and I dried off while still keeping warm.  It's not an experience I'd care to repeat!

You can imagine my relief this year on Day 3 when it dawned clear, sunny, and warm.  What could be better? The joke was on me when the wind started up...  Touche, Mother Nature, you win again!  I don't know how many of you have been in the Sierra when it starts getting windy in April.  It's miserable in the worst way...not only is the wind cold, but your hat doesn't stay on, your face gets a nice microdermabrasion treatment (free of charge!), and it saps all your energy.  Did I mention it never lets up once it gets going?  All you can think about is how nice it would be to be sitting inside, drinking a delicious cup of hot chocolate and looking out your window at all the poor people driving horses in the rotten wind.

But we are definitely not quitters and we certainly weren't going to let a measly windstorm stop us!  Most of us had brought ball caps along just in case (something you learn as a kid here--when there is a breeze in the morning, bring a ball cap or cinch your cowboy hat on until your brains are coming out your ears, otherwise you'll lose it!), so we swapped for those, made sure we had enough layers, and saddled up.

Our route for the day was to leave Sweetwater and drop down a little canyon where we would be back on the highway.  From there, we'd go a few miles til we reached the stock drive.  The stock drive meets back up with the highway right before the dam on the Bridgeport Reservoir, so we'd be on the road until we got just past the airport in Bridgeport, where we'd take the back road around town.  After briefly holding the horses in what used to be Buster's parking lot, we'd dash across Highway 395 and turn the horses into Benny's little field, where we'd give the horses a little rest and a drink before the last five mile homestretch.


 Painted ponies with pink prints!  From left to right:  Chief, Kiowa, Sparrow.  Why?  For good luck in battling the wind, of course!

 Starting down the road out of Sweetwater.  The old Atcheson barn is in the background.  What's disappointing about this picture is that it doesn't even look remotely windy!


 Making our way to the canyon.  I wish I could animate this picture to show the wind!

The horses seemed a little subdued by the wind and were well behaved for the first stretch...

Sadly, I don't have any pictures of us going down the canyon to the road.  The horses decided they could sneak past us in the trees, and try as we might, it was all we could do to keep them together and headed in the right direction.  Needless to say, it was quite the adventure to go careening through the trees, only catching glimpses of the rest of the herd and the other riders and trying to stay slow enough so your horse wouldn't trip while zooming downhill!  Through the wind, all I could hear was the popping of the bullwhips, the thundering of hooves, my horse's breathing, and occasionally the cracking of a branch.  Someone was yelling to us, but whatever they were saying was lost in the wind.  Sometimes I would totally lose sight of the herd and then they'd appear, bearing down on me until I could head off the leader.  Somehow, I ended up in the very back of the herd and followed them down the rocky trail to the bottom of the canyon.   Thankfully, there is a fence at the bottom, but we had to make sure the herd all went down it, as it would have been easy for them to scatter on the flat in the trees.  I don't know how we made it down with every last horse, but we did.

We got back on the road about a mile from the California/Nevada border, everyone intact, all horses and people accounted for...and the wind, of course, was right with us.


Welcome to California!

  Good thing there were no cops out...
 
It STILL doesn't look windy.  But the handprints look cool.

 Coming down the stock drive.  The horses started to get pushy right about here, and we were having trouble keeping them behind us.  One horse about knocked my horse over trying to get to the front.  That's Aspen and Chief with Jay and Thumper right behind her.

 Sim and I loped ahead so we would have a little time to scope out any places the horses could get past us.

 Here comes Jay and Thumper!  Even the willows weren't much of a boundary for some of the horses--they'd crash right through and try to shove past you!  

Right about here, at the dam, was where the horses absolutely KNEW where we were.  Did you think they would be tired?!  Nope!  

We had most of us in front to form a barrier across the herd so they would be forced to walk on the pavement instead of trotting.  It was pretty tough to keep it together, talk about a mental AND physical challenge! Sim, Denise, and Jay form the middle part of our line. 

Finally you can see a little bit of how windy it was!  Sierra's hat is gone and her hair is looking awesomely windblown.

 Can you see a little tiny figure loping along the beach ?  Blair went around and ahead to help us get through an open spot where the horses could go in about 500 different directions.

Blair's hat got tweaked into some pretty nifty shapes from the wind.  I think he looks like an Australian here, don't you?

By the time we were coming into town, nearly everyone had either lost their hats or were getting headaches from how tight they had tied them down.

 Coming down the stock drive on the north side of Bridgeport.  Once we made the turn south, we zipped across 395 and in to Benny's field. 

How many horses can you fit around a tiny water trough?

 A little rest before the home stretch!

 Leaving Benny's, and town, behind.  The horses know the way home.  

 Jeff and I went ahead to set gates across the Twin Lakes road and into another field. It was really cool to see the group coming towards us and knowing that we didn't have far to go

 We knew once we crossed the road there would be a point where we couldn't slow them down or hold them in a group any more.  But it didn't really matter since we were in the fields and they couldn't really get away.

 Bellied up to the bar

 From left to right:  Dalton, Aspen, Rhiannon, Blair.  Still windy; look at Blair's hat!

 One might assume that the horses wouldn't have it in them to make a mad dash for the ranch...

 ...but I think it's pretty clear by this picture of Aspen and Chief how fast they were going!

Go, Jeff, go!  I love this picture. By the time you read this, the fields will be so green it'll hurt your eyes!

You can almost feel the motion, can't you?

 We had to cross the Twin Lakes road one more time, so we bunched them up and took them down the fence.

 Here is where the horses really got excited.  They knew they were almost done...and it was amazing how fast they got across this next field. 

 Blair and I were in the lead for about 500 yards, and then a few of the lead horses passed me up like I was standing still.

 Two more gates and then we were done with the horse drive!  So close you can smell it...or at least, the horses could.

 Aspen watches the gate while we blocked the ranch road and opened the gate across the way...

 Aspen, Sierra, Rhiannon, and Sim lead the horses in.  You can see our convoy of photographers, helpers, friends, and neighbors all stopped on the road.  

Phew, we made it!  Those are some happy horses.

All's well that ends well!  We made it in spite of the howling wind and pushy horses.  It was so great to see them all out on the meadow, munching contentedly.  We hope next year will be even better as the horses will be getting to know the route and will be even easier to control and keep at the speed we want them.  

My photos aren't the best quality, but snapshots are pretty handy to use in a blog!  Our friends, Gary and Terri Butler, have taken some incredible photos of life around the ranch and have captured the horse drive and all its action really well.  If you want to see these truly top-notch horse drive photos (and the ranch in general) on Facebook,click here; or you can click here to go to their website (they have photos from last year's horse drive!).

We are so grateful to everyone who helped put this horse drive together--it's a labor of love and a love of tradition.  We couldn't do it without your help!  Having great friends and neighbors is a blessing.  

Until next time, dream of green meadows, fat cattle, shiny horses, and blue skies!




Thursday, July 11, 2013

Horse Drive 2013, Day 2: Smooth As Butter

This year on Day 2, the horses were much more energetic than they had been the previous year.  From our stopping point the night before, we had to get back on the highway for a mile or so, then turn off on to a dirt road that took us across the desert.  Then we'd get back on the highway for a few miles, then turn into a field along the road.  At the end of the field, we'd be back in the sage and sand along the road, headed up Sweetwater Summit and then down to towards the Sweetwater Ranch and our destination for the day.

We tried to find a route with as little pavement as possible as the horses were barefoot.  Last year, some of them got sore from trotting on the road, so we tried to keep them at a walk while on pavement so they wouldn't wear their feet off so fast.  We had a trailer ahead of us in case we needed to give a sore-footed horse a ride, but this year we didn't have too many.

For those of you wondering about the mileage we traveled each day, here is a rough estimate:
Day 1: 14 miles
Day 2: 18 miles
Day 3: 23 miles

Once we were off the pavement, we held the group up to get organized before we headed out through the desert again.

Do you like the very picturesque storage unit in the background?

Headed through the desert.  The bay horse with the blaze is Brave, the gray horse is Hugwapi, and the paint on the right is Shiloh.  

Some of the sneakier horses know that it's hard for us to keep them together in the sagebrush, so they lead their little groups off in different directions...and then they try to get ahead of us.  It's quite exhilarating to go crashing through and leaping over huge clumps of sage!  You can see Blair and Betsy in the background.

Rhiannon, Lauren, and Jon trot through the sand ahead of the herd.  Look at that beautiful sand...arena quality!  No dust, thanks to Mother Nature and her rain shower two days before.  

Shiloh decided to follow my horse almost the whole day.  He never tried to sneak past me...what a good boy!  Behind him (with his tongue out, silly boy!) is Cochise.

We held the horses in a little bare spot.  One of the horses had stepped in a tangle of wire (just baling wire, so not too serious), and I stepped off to get it unwound from her foot.  From here, we headed up a little draw and then back to the road.

Jon looks over his shoulder at the horses coming up the draw.  Shiloh's right on his tail!

Mulan, Otis, and Shiloh lead the charge up and out of the draw.  Jeff was trying making his way to the front with us but still has some fast trotting horses to pass!

  After a long lope to get to this little sheep meadow, the horses stop for a little snack.  Can you see any of your favorite steeds?

Sweaty horses at snack time!

Jon, Lauren, and Rhiannon.  Insert witty joke about "putting your life on the line" here!  Or maybe you could hum a few bars of "Walk the Line"...

The horses get a little drink before we head up the meadow. Liz, one of the members of our draft horse team, is drinking.  Behind her is Santiago, Dulche, Paisley (the paint horse), and Grant (Liz's teammate) who is getting a little nibble of the green grass.

Sim tries to lead the charge...but the horses are too busy with the green grass!

Ahhhh....a nice foot soak, a drink of water, and a bite of green grass!

Aaaaand we're off!  This is the beginning of a two mile lope on an uphill slope, headed towards Sweetwater Summit.

Rhiannon heads to the front.  You'll have to excuse the camera angle--the meadow 
isn't actually that steep!


 Starting up Sweetwater Summit.  Back in the sagebrush...


Hi, Blair!  Haley (she looks like a tiny person in a green shirt coming out of Blair's hat), cracked her whip at the bay horse to get her back in the herd.


 Getting closer to the summit....

 Shiloh, back to his position behind my horse.


 Denise made sure the horses didn't get on the road when we were going through the trees.


 My horse was pretty sure she wanted a nap...


But then Jon made her pose for a picture...never a dull, serious moment!


 Haley leads the herd down Sweetwater Summit

 Just a few miles to go and Sim is always ready with his whip...just in case!

Made it!  Little Joe looks glad to be done for the day.


We put the main group of horses in one field and our saddle horses in the field next to them.  Well, that was the plan...until we realized that the gate between the two field was open and several of the horses had found it...


 Hey, guys!  Wrong field!

A large, gray pair of behinds heads for the right field.  

And so ended Day 2...pretty uneventful, but super fun!  We like it when things go smoothly, even though the exciting bits make for a better story.  Stay tuned, tomorrow is the last part of the horse drive.  Hopefully you didn't mind the hundreds of photos... 

Until next time, dream of green meadows, fat cattle, shiny horses, and blue skies!