Horse Drive 2013, Day 1: The Village Idiots

Well, hello there!  It's been a while...too long, in fact.  Some of you may know that we drive our horses from Smith to Bridgeport in the spring, and when I say "drive" I mean we trot them the 60-ish miles over the span of three days.  Last year was the first year we had done it in twenty or so years, and what fun!  It does get a little wild at times but overall it's so exhilarating that sometimes we found ourselves laughing hysterically while leaping over sagebrush, butts smacking the saddle, fighting to stay ahead of the herd.

Last year I didn't get any pictures as I wasn't sure I could keep control of my horse, my flag, and a camera, so this year, I took along my trusty iPhone.  Some of the pictures were taken at crazy angles--I discovered I could take pictures over my head while trotting (and sometimes all out running!).  I'm sure it was entertaining to see me with my arm thrust in the air, phone in hand, while dodging brush, cutting off a bunch-quitter, or just trotting along in the front.  I'm amazed I didn't lose the thing!

We'll start with Day 1, as we weren't even sure we were going to be able to keep it all together!

Megan had purchased some horses from Southern California who had never been in with a large group of horses, but we were pretty sure they would be ok in the herd.  We had also purchased some horses at a sale in Winnemucca, Nevada, and they seemed to be integrating well into our herd.  Between those six horses, we were feeling confident they would find a leader within the group and that leader would keep them with our main herd....

My first indication that things weren't going to go smoothly was when I headed out to gather those six horses with the rest of the herd and they turned and ran as far as they could in the opposite direction.  After some mild swearing coaxing and a little help from Blair and his bullwhip, we got them in the corral about ten minutes after the main herd.

Plan A was to take the herd about a half mile down the ranch road, then turn off the road and into a huge lot of sagebrush.  My grandmother, Jan, parked her car by the gate to help turn the horses.  With over half the riders in the front of the herd, we started down the road.

It isn't unusual for there to be an extremely pushy horse or two in the front when we first set out; we had bullwhips and flags to use as we needed (we don't actually whip the horses with the bullwhip, we use the sound as a deterrent as the loud pops the whip makes are enough to turn or stop a horse...usually).  However, the six new horses were having hone of it...they pushed through those of us in front, leading about five or so other horses through and went streaking down the ranch road!  Blair, Sim, and I don't know who else, headed them off several times, only to have them shove through their horses and continue on down the road.  Blair told me later he saw Jan's mouth in a perfect "o" with her hands on her cheeks as that group went whizzing past her car.

Meanwhile, the main herd had gone in the correct gate, but without enough riders in front to slow them down, they reached down to their inner racehorse and left us in the dust.  Luckily, they were contained in the field and even though it was several hundred acres in size, they couldn't scatter out on the desert.  I could only watch as all the horses thundered past me as my horse was winded and dripping with sweat from trying to keep the main herd under control.  I wish I had pictures of all this, but as my horse was really fresh and silly that morning, I had my hands full and didn't want to risk losing my phone...but even if I did get pictures, they couldn't have shown the chaos!

Blair and Sim were having issues with their own rogue group.  About 3/4 of a mile down the ranch road, there is a huge field of winter wheat with no fences around it. From what I heard, the horses ignored the several trucks parked in the road as well as the people in the road trying to stop them, and turned into the winter wheat, where they were headed for what they were sure was FREEDOM!  Luckily, with a lot of help, Blair, Sim, and some of our friends were able to get them back on the ranch road and down to where the rest of us were holding the herd in the corner of the sagebrush field.

Once we put the escapees back, the plan was to take them east across the sagebrush field to a dirt road, head down the dirt road, and get out onto the desert....well, that was the plan until the newly-returned horses broke away from the herd and went pounding down the fenceline.  Admittedly, they were headed in the right direction...but with no one in the front to direct them, we knew we'd lose them.  We cut diagonally across the sagebrush to head them off and got them stopped.  From here, I have pictures to document most of what happened next.

Looks like we've got everything under control...at least for the moment.

Betsy heads to the front.  If you look on the far left, you can see a horse looking back toward the herd...and this is where things started to go downhill, again.

Can you see the instigators on the left?  Four or five horses had already left the herd and were headed home.  The horses left behind were very interested in heading that way, too...

Aaaaand that's where we lost them again.  The whole group merrily thundered north, headed home.  We had no choice but to follow them.  We decided to take them back to the corral and sort off the six new horses, now dubbed "The Village Idiots," and a few others who just couldn't bring themselves to behave. 

Megan follows the group back to the corrals. At this point, we weren't even sure if Plan B would work and were contemplating possibly waiting until the next day to start.

We decided to try again.  On the left, you can see how we really beefed up our road block.  The horses were a little aired out and feeling less fresh, so they were wanting to mostly walk or trot, and they didn't try to push ahead of us too much.

Looking a little more sedate as we head for the dirt road and then the desert.  No bunch-quitters this time!

Out on the dirt road, hitting a leisurely trot.  Jon's in the red shirt, keeping them on track.

Getting closer to the turn for the dirt road that leads to the desert.  In the lead, left to right:
Chuffy, Jake, Whisper Jean, Suede, Allie, and Sancho.  

Everyone's behaving...for the most part!

As we neared the desert, the horses knew they were almost out in the open...

...but we stopped them so everyone could catch up.

Once out in the desert, we held them against the fence and kept them along the road towards the local dump station, where we would get on the highway.  In trying to keep them from heading out and disappearing onto the range, I think my horse leaped over 900 three foot tall sagebrush, and that's only a *slight* exaggeration.

Once we got past the dump station and on the highway, we held them again at the bridge that crosses the Walker River.  We let our saddle horses get a drink before we continued down the road past the local school, and toward our destination for the end of Day 1.

We passed the school, where nearly every class K-12 (yep, we have a small-town school) came out to watch the horses go by.  Aspen and Rhiannon waved at their classmates and I am pretty sure their classmates were a little jealous.  In this picture, Aspen (on Chief), checks behind her to see where the leaders are.

Haley & Ruby in the lead, about 2-3 miles from our destination.  Haley looks exuberant, 

Ruby...not so much.

 Ahhhh...finally!  Hay and water at the end of a long trot.

Scarlett had her eye on me.  You know, in case I had some grain! 

So that was the end of Day 1.  We made it, even after the Village Idiots tried to foil all our plans! Stay tuned for Days 2 and 3, coming tomorrow and the day after.  

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

My New Friend, Ferdinand

I made a friend today!  Not exactly groundbreaking, I know...but I thought I'd share because I think all of you will find him charming, much like I do.  He isn't very big, but he's stout.  His hair is a mix of reds and his eyes are dark chocolate brown, fringed by eyelashes of which I am very jealous.  Are you dying to know who this mystery man is?  Could he be someone famous?  I'll let you decide for yourself.  Here's his portrait.

 Isn't he handsome?!  I thought so, too.  He thinks he's pretty hot stuff as well...nothing like being president of your own fan club!  Or should I say he's "out-standing in his field"?  Bad joke, I know...but I couldn't resist.

I had gone out to check on the heifers and their calves just to make sure everything was kosher.  We tag all our calves with the same color tag and same number as their mother so we know which calf belongs to which cow.  Bull calves get their tag in the right ear, heifers get their tag in the left ear.  It makes ID pretty easy when you're out in the field...unless, like my little friend here, they haven't been tagged.  Sometimes the heifers are super casual moms and they don't keep track of their calves, so when we go to tag them, we don't know who the mother is...and sometimes the calves are sneaky and won't go to their mothers.  This guy?  Well, he's super cool, calm, collected, and casual.  I never did find out who his mother was...but I think I have a pretty good idea. 

The heifers and their calves had gathered around the truck, hoping against all odds that I had a bale of hay and was there to feed them...I was surrounded...and then they started looking in the cab of the truck...

 Right after I took this picture, this heifer stuck her nose in the cab of the truck.  She only looks innocent, don't let that wide-eyed stare fool you!

I got out of the pickup to see if I could find the mother to the little guy I had my eye on.  I circled around behind the truck and sat in the shade of the flatbed.  A lot of times, cattle will approach you if you crouch or sit on the ground.  Their curiosity gets the better of them and they can get close enough to lick you, which isn't exactly pleasant unless you like having slimy saliva dripping off your pants or sleeves.  I wouldn't recommend doing this unless you know the cattle fairly well, 'cause sometimes you might find yourself in a place you don't want to be!

This photobomb brought to you by #44.

I slooooooooooooowly reached my hand out to see if he'd sniff it.  The curious ones usually will sniff from a distance, but as you can see, this guy wasn't scared of me at all.

 What do those fingers taste like?

 That feels so nice on my forehead...but lemme clean my nose out while I'm at it.

He let me rub his forehead, down his face, under his chin--that was where he really liked it.  But rather than write about it, I'll let the pictures do the talking.

 That's not so bad....

Who knew your eyeballs could get so itchy?!

I've been trying to get that spot scratched since I was born! 

I should interject here that it's very unusual for a calf to just approach you in the field, especially one who hasn't really had any contact with people.  Sometimes, a former "bottle calf" (one that we had previously fed on a bottle for some reason or another) will come up to you, but it's generally not something that happens.  They will get curious, but they mostly keep their distance.  One other calf got brave, but only for a few seconds, and then my first little friend butted him and made him leave.

This calf got brave enough to lick my fingers....

...and then I rubbed his forehead a little bit before he decided that was enough!

Little ol' Ferdinand came back to check me out.  I think he might have pushed the other calf out of the way so he could get scratched again...

Ferdinand got mad when another calf tried to sniff me...and so they had a stand-off.  They were probably pretending to be big bulls and that they were having a real fight.  Boys!

I love it when they scratch their necks like that.  It's adorable!

Back again...

Oooooo...a little to the left...back to the right...

That's the spot I tried to itch with my foot!

He nearly fell asleep with his head pressed on my leg while I was scratching his neck.

He kept licking my pants...I'm not sure what I had on them but it was really tasty, apparently.

His favorite spot to be scratched.  Sorry for the blurry picture! 

I got a few videos of him, too.  I apologize for the horrendous filming...it's so hard to film when you can't see exactly what you're getting!  But I think you'll get a better idea of his personality if you watch them.  Plus, the cute factor is overwhelming!

That's it for this post.  I am assembling pictures from our horse drive from Smith Valley to Bridgeport and doing some editing, so I hope to have that blog post going up within the next two weeks.  Until next time, dream of green meadows, fat cattle, shiny horses, and blue skies!

My favorite picture of him.  Gotta love that face and those ears!

Feeding the Hungry...Cows

Two blogs in two days?!  I know, I'm as shocked as you are!  But really, I shouldn't be, because the one thing that goes hand-in-hand with calving around here is...(drumroll, please!!)...FEEDING!  Yes, feeding.  It sounds so mundane, so boring, and yet it isn't.

We feed the calving cows hay so they don't get too thin while nursing their calf before the green grass starts to grow.  If our cows are too thin, they may not be able to get bred to have a calf again next year, and in the interest of keeping all of you entertained with pictures and videos of cuter-than-cute calves, we feed.  And also, it's what we do--raise calves.  As you can see, it's pretty important.

I learned how to drive a stick shift while feeding. I learned how to balance myself on the back of a huge flatbed that went bumping over hard cow pies while feeding.  I learned that you have to be sure to pick up every strand of twine after it has been cut so the cows don't eat it.  I learned that falling off the feed truck really hurts...and so does whacking your knee or shin on hard steel while trying to get back on the feed truck.  Even earlier than that, I learned how to steer a truck without power steering or any sort of shocks to speak of, and bouncing up and down on that seat while trying to see over the giant wheel and out the windshield will forever be one of my fond memories.

Our main feed truck is a huge 1967 GMC Stock Truck, painted a chalky pale yellow with some charmingly rusty spots here and there.  We refer to it as "the Yellow Stock Truck" or just "the YST".  Like Johnny Cash's song, it really has been everywhere.  My dad has told me stories of taking it down a steep grade, fully loaded, and having the brakes go out.  He also remembers hauling bulls from Smith Valley to Bridgeport in it, and looking in a sideview mirror just in time to see one of the bulls leap out over the side (when it still had sides on it).  When you start it up, it rumbles at a low frequency just loud enough to make your ears sort of hurt and your chest vibrate with the sound.  The cows can hear it a mile away and we can always hear them bawling once it's up and running.

  Here she is.  The Yellow Stock Truck.  The great and powerful.  The dinner wagon.

It doesn't take a 40 acre field to turn around...maybe only 38 acres.  I am so glad they invented power steering!   But this truck...this truck is about as cool as they come.  They sure don't make them like they used to.

My view from the driver's seat.  It was a windy day (always a good day to be feed truck driver), and in an attempt to clear the dust off the windshield, I only succeeded in smearing it around a little.  Also, the seat drops off sharply on the driver's side, so if you're short like me, you sort of have to use to steering wheel to pull yourself up to see out.  That, or open the door, stand on the sideboard, and hope you can steer sufficiently enough that way.  

I love feeding.  Cattle, horses, whatever, I just love it.  It's so gratifying to see the animals take a giant mouthful of hay and look up at you, defiantly chewing as if they have triumphed in getting the best mouthful.  I like driving the feed truck, too...particularly if it is windy.  There is nothing worse than getting hay down your shirt and pants and knowing you can't get it out for at least another hour.  Actually, there is something worse: getting hay IN YOUR EYES.  Worse than dust by far.  I think I might prefer to get poked in the eye than have hay in there.  Sometimes it feels like it takes days to get that stuff out and you look like you're overly emotional because your poor eyes are always weepy.  

One of the cool things about driving the truck is that you put it in 4-wheel drive low and let it cruise along like a tortoise, so if you need another hand feeding, no one really has to drive.  Sometimes someone has to jump off and steer to avoid a ditch, and tree, a fence, a patch of thick willows, then hop back on and continue feeding.  Since it's moving so slow, it's pretty easy.  Oh, and kids, don't try this at home!  

Blair and Haley feeding.  Gotta love the big bales--so much nicer than trying to feed a million tiny bales!  This cow is wondering who is driving since I'm out taking pictures.  

Getting down to the last few bales.  These cows are perplexed at me as well...

 The chow line.  Come and get it!

You can see a long, long ways from up here on this mobile haystack.  

We have a backup feed truck in case the YST is out of commission for some reason, and while not as loud as the YST, it's still pretty swanky.  It's a 1973 Ford flatbed, painted a flat orangey-red.  To me, it looks like it should be in a vintage photo shoot.  Definitely classy...in a ranch-y sort of way.  

Loaded up and ready to roll.

 That...that is a thing of beauty, even if you're not a car person.  Or an old truck person.  I wish my dashboard looked like this.

 I feel as if I'm sitting on a throne!  See the new calf waaaaayyyy out there at the top of the picture?

The hay is always greener on the other side of the fence....

This cow is convinced we didn't just feed a huge bale out in her field.  She is pretty sure we kept the best hay on the truck. 

And finally, when we need to feed a group of old horses, or smaller groups of cattle, or to feed in a field where we can't get the YST because it's so wide, we use a truck or a truck pulling a flatbed trailer.  And of course, when you're driving a regular pickup truck, you need your feeding crew, right?

The Crew.  Yes, it is totally necessary to have that many dogs.

The Boss Man and his crew.  

 A common sight in my sideview mirror

Oh, hey there, Mr. Casual!

Keeping the horses from pulling the bales of hay off the truck

 The "Geriatric Ward" is happy with their breakfast

We also feed the cows mineral so they don't get deficient in something important, leading to problems down the road.  Our area here is deficient in copper and selenium, so the mineral we get has that added in.  Even though they have access to it all the time, the cows go through a period of not really eating a lot to absolutely scarfing it down.  When they see you over by the mineral feeders--it's a stampede!

How many mineral feeders can you see?  There are three, in case you're wondering.  And the cows in the background KNOW there is fresh mineral in them.  

The cows get overly excited about mineral.  Sometimes I can even scratch them.  I like that you can see cows shoving their way to the group to get to the mineral...must be like candy!

I promise, that's it.  Until next time, dream of green meadows, fat cattle, shiny horses, and blue skies!