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Living The Cowboy Life
Fitness On A Montana Ranch

By Lisa Hickey
Photos courtesy of Nicole Wickens

 

Imagine waking up to the distant howls of coyotes, mountain lions and other pre-dawn noises of the wild. In the distance is a covered wagon, mule-pulled buggy and a rope corral holding several dozen horses. There are no hints of the 21st century at all — no paved roads, power or phone lines, airplanes, houses or cars.

This began my immersion last month in an authentic Montana cattle drive. I was among 12 paying guests from Virginia, Tennessee, Florida, Arizona, Texas and even Australia who came together to sample ranch life — an existence that has changed little in the last 100 years. Nothing was choreographed or watered-down; we were simply there to work with real ranchers and help herd hundreds of Angus beef cattle to their summer pasture. The route would run down steep bluffs, some nearly perpendicular, as well as rolling plains that made their way through the Judith River Breaks, an area named by William Clark (of Lewis and Clark) after his wife Judy. All in all, I would call it a fitness vacation — Montana style.

Despite having grown up in Texas, I had never witnessed a massive herd of cattle on the move. But I quickly realized that a round-up is a serious and sometimes dangerous business, particularly when a group of snorting black bulls is staring you down. The owners of Russell Country Ridgeriders, a new adventure company providing tourists the chance to be short-term ranchers, knew about these inherent dangers firsthand. Matt Wickens, one of the founders, started with an informative orientation on cattle drive safety and the basics of horsemanship. The wranglers then saddled each guest’s horse, matching the mount to the rider’s level of experience and off we went.

The first lesson I learned was that a cowhand’s attire is not just for show. A wide-brimmed hat, with a wind string, wards off sun and shields against rain. Chaps, or leather guards as they are also called, are not a fashion statement either. They are worn primarily to protect the legs, while the snug fit of jeans over the boot top keeps out thistles and dust. Cowboy boots also help rest the rider’s feet properly in the stirrups, preventing them from being caught during a fall. And a lariat, or lasso, in the hands of a skillful wrangler, can be thrown to loop the head or legs of an animal in order to bring them down.

On our first day, I learned quickly that a comfortable saddle is as important an accessory to a rider as durable shoes are to a marathon runner — since it’s where you sit all day. Before day’s end, my legs ached from trying to control my horse, Vern, who seemed distracted and saddened by the recent loss of his previous owner.

Before we could actually drive the cattle, we had to find them first. Spread out over a vast, uninhabited area of mountains, trees and coulees, the cattle were to be rounded up to form a herd. As small clusters were gathered together, the riders moved to cover the flanks and bring up the rear. Fortunately, Vern took control and charged instinctively toward cows tucked in remote clearings.

As I looked around at the majestic canyon landscape, created by shallow seas that once covered Montana during the Cretaceous period, I realized its unique topography tells a special story — much like rings on a tree trunk — of past glaciers, erosion over time and volcanic activity. Amazingly, the area has remained unchanged since Lewis and Clark traveled through it some 200 years ago.

While we were sitting around the campfire that night, we were visited by an interesting character, a native American dancer named Terry Brockie (of the White Clay Tribe). He appeared in full Indian attire and a feathered head dress to perform a variety of interpretive dances. One symbolized the buffalo hunts that used to take place and the native Americans’ respect for and reliance on this once abundant beast. Brockie pointed out that long before Lewis and Clark, the breathtaking region was hunted by a number of different tribes, including the Blackfeet, Atsina, Crow and Plains Cree.

On the second day, the crisp morning air was soon filled with plaintive sounds of cows separated from their calves during branding operations. The guests, under the tutelage of the wranglers, took turns roping, branding, inoculating and castrating the young bulls. I approached the corral with trepidation, feeling a deep sympathy for the calves, but for some of the other guests, this was one of the highlights of the drive. Megan Dickensheidt, 35, a stay-at-home mom from Houston, quickly became a pro at this exercise, as she applied the red-hot branding iron to the calves rear with deft speed.

“I’m living a dream,” says Dickenscheidt, “I feel like I’m on a movie set and it seems so unreal. The scenery and the vistas are incredible. We just came up from a lush valley and all I could see were the clouds, sky and open prairie.”

Her sister, Nancy Berry, 38, of Charlottesville, Virginia, admits she wanted an adventure but got a whole lot more. “I think there is something very bonding about going through an experience this unique with my sister. Also, I’m at a point in my life when I wanted an active vacation. I didn’t just want to sit on a beach. This trip complimented my recent commitment to a healthier lifestyle,” she says.

One day, rancher Rudy Stoltz guided us along a narrow trail down a treacherous cliff with only enough room for a single-file line. One guest was so afraid of heights, he simply dismounted his horse and walked. For the rest of us, it was a major accomplishment when we reached the bottom. I felt like Vern and I had just defied gravity.

Now a full-time rancher, Stoltz routinely starts working outside as early as 6 a.m. and keeps going until dark. But he says, “I’ve played that other game where I went to work for eight hours a day, doing my job and trying to work out when I had time. But I got bored, a feeling I never have now that I’m ranching again. All my neighbors do the same thing and we help each other. We might brand one person’s calves today and someone else’s tomorrow. We work together. I’d say everyone around here is in pretty good shape.”

During the trip, three campsites were set up and dismantled. Each had a portable shower and a canvas outhouse, which one female guest dubbed “the loo with a view.”

As far as the weather was concerned, we experienced just about every climatic change possible in Montana. One night we had a downpour, which I slept through because I was dead tired, and another night it almost reached freezing. During the days, the temperature was comfortable but varied depending on the time and our specific location. We were instructed to dress in layers and the windbreakers certainly came in handy.

Most of the horses we used were quarter horses but there were also some appaloosa, thoroughbreds and a beautiful, young paint. I became convinced there was an authentic “horse whisperer” among us. Throughout the week, the guests were entranced by Eric Wickens’ gift with animals as he transformed the feisty paint into an obedient, trick-performing mount. Like most of the wranglers on the trip, Wickens comes from a long line of ranchers whose ancestors were homesteaders nearly a century ago.

On the trail, the cuisine was hearty, a necessity when living such a strenuous cowhand lifestyle. Three of the ranchers’ wives worked tirelessly behind the scenes to provide three filling meals each day. Breakfast was often eggs, sausage, bacon, beans, pancakes, buttermilk biscuits and fresh fruit. Lunch was a sandwich spread, including tasty homemade cookies. For dinner, an elaborate array of casseroles, pies, breads and vegetable dishes were freshly baked over the embers of an open fire in Dutch ovens — large cast-iron cooking pots. And of course, in cattle country, they take their meat very seriously. Cooked over a campfire to each guest’s order, the best cuts of beef were skillfully prepared. One night, a smorgasbord of entrees including grilled turkey, cornish game hen, grilled elk steaks and rocky mountain oysters (if you don’t know what they are, don’t ask) was served up. And yet the two vegetarians on the trip were also fed quite well.

The days were long, as it often got dark around 10 p.m., but there was still plenty of time to visit and talk around the evening campfire. A local senior citizen brought her accordion and played “Home on the Range,” and was accompianed by several wranglers who brought their guitars each night for sing-alongs. While dancing was not for everyone, I was one of the two-steppers who got to waltz under the black velvet backdrop.

So many nights, while lying in my sleeping bag, I was amazed by the sheer number of stars in the sky. Without distracting city lights, I had a view of heaven’s slideshow like I’d never seen it before. The clarity was awe-inspiring and the moonless sky highlighted every twinkle. When you can see the line of the Milky Way, you start to realize there is more to the the constellations than the Big Dipper and Orions Belt. It became obvious why this kind of country is called “Big Sky.”

One highlight of the trip was our camp at the Judith River. After riding horses for several days, I was craving a proper bath. While some people enjoy taking showers, I’ve always preferred a good soak. Washing my hair in the river was a treat even with its strong current and frigid temperature and I was transported back to a time when pioneer women might have looked to this same waterway as a spot for washing and swimming.

After a week on the cattle drive, I could see why outdoor men and women were in such good condition. Unlike two-thirds of adult Americans who are either overweight or obese, ranchers and wranglers share none of the sedentary habits to which the rest of the country has succumbed.

According to Jason Swatt, an employee of the Montana Department of Public Health, ranchers who engage in physical activity on a daily basis have lower rates of weight-related health issues like diabetes and heart disease. “There is no doubt in my mind that the ranching lifestyle is more physically active than most other professions,” Swatt says.

What’s more, in this part of the country, it’s not uncommon for older generations to be involved in the work. For example, Matt Wickens was often accompanied by his three siblings, fiancé, grandparents and parents, all of whom helped out in one way or another. Even his grandfather, Larry Wickens, 85, who looks as fit as any of the wranglers, enlivened the campfire one evening with stories of his days as a young trapper.

Looking back now, I realize that the guests, including myself, talked constantly and sometimes asked trivial questions, with an almost incessant need to be engaged. However, the cowboys were always comfortable with silence, content to enjoy their natural surroundings and let the animals set the pace on the trail. It was a glimpse of something faded from our high speed, techno-centric urban society. And while many city dwellers work to live, these cowboys live to work, as their work and play are often one and the same.
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For more details about the trip, visit www.wickensranch.com or contact: Russell Country Ridgeriders, P.O. Box 92, Winifred, MT 59489; Matt Wickens at (406) 462-5612 or mwickens@mtintouch.net.