We spent much of last week bringing the cattle home for the fall. The mountain was as pretty as I've about ever seen it. The leaves were red, and yellow, and when the wind would blow they'd fall down, the ground really was almost a yellow brick road. I do love fall, the crispness of the days, hairy fat calves, and cows that know the trail to home pastures. There is a serinity that is found in the mountain valley's that I've really never felt anywhere else. As the realiztion comes that the days on the forest are limited a thousand memories come rushing back. We were raised on the mountain but really it raised us. We spent so many days of our childhood riding along a trail sure that we were forever lost. Dad would put us behind a group of cows when we were really little and tell us to follow the cows they know the way. I'm always so grateful to my dad for having the patience to take us with him. We weren't very big to begin with and in reality the horses we rode knew more of where we were going then we did. My family really are all my closest friends.
Lori Ann in 2001 carved her name in a swear what was hundreds of tree's. I remember the main day, we were riding up under the mountain to "hidden lakes." Dad would always tell us we were some of the only girls to ever ride up there. I started to tear up this year, I was by myself. I called Lori on the phone realizing that I perhaps will never again share those moments together of laughter and chatter. Her little ones were busy in the background and although I know her calling in life right now as a mother is as precious as anywhere she can be it's bittersweet to know that we really are all grown up. We laughed over initials of past loves and thanked our stars that we hadn't ended up with more than a few of those. Some of those tree's had died, we were sure it was a sign. Dad used to sing to us as we'd ride up the trail together, I want to be a cowgirls sweetheart, and one of my favorites went, "I had me an old yeller cow I bought her in the south, the only problem with that cow is she had to big of a mouth, I took her to a blacksmith shop to get her mouth made small, she opened her mouth to take a breath swallowed the blacksmith shop and all. I had me an old grey horse he could eat ten bushel of corn every time the horse would open his mouth another ten bushel be'd gone." I never knew just how fleeting those moments would be.
Our dad wasn't just a dad, he was our best friend. We grew up working alongside him. Everything I love about the cow business comes from him. The cattle, the horses, the land, and most of all family.
I rode up the right hand fork of Asay Creek on Thursday to bring home twenty five head of cows including the bull to find twenty four head of cows and no bull. I had my dogs, poor little Midge was having about to die by the time we found the cows that just so happened to be all the way in the top. Somehow she made it up and back, she was tired enough she never barked that night!
Friday we made a good dent in the number of cattle on the forrest. We rode hidden lakes and lost creek, I found two heifers up under the mountain with two bull calves, no mothers in sight, and seven pair in lost creek. Tawnya found about thirty in John L. Valley. Jose found a few out on the Red Desert and Josue Guzeman found a few pair around Dead Lake.
Tawnya and I fought to get a calf back to the trailor through the tree's and the deadfall on Friday. We rode everyplace except down the trail. He was an awesome Steel Force x M100. He made me more than fighting mad a few times and we spent a long time trying to get him to the trailer only to have him dissapear. I rode up over a hill to what's called Dead Lake after cussing a few times to not see any sign of the calf but instead a hunter on 4wheeler that I'm sure heard a few choice words. Tawnya and I needed to get some cattle off of a BLM permit that we have just above Minnie Creek while the men kept pushing cattle from the forrest closer to home. We rode pretty fast and furious and the cattle were ready to come back into the ranch and moved out as well as I've ever seen them walk. We made the ranch when it was long since dark. The stars were beautiful and 100 plus head of cattle were back home for the fall. The calves looked great and the cows were fat.
Yesterday the girls and I went and let about fifty head out of the lane. They come down from what we call Asay Bench to water and of course to see if someone will let them into greener pastures. They were glad to see us. There were a few cows there that I had found in Lost Creek the day before, it's about fifteen miles. They were happy to be home.
Jeannie
