View o' the Dude

Ribbon Pulls Are Not For Sissies Part I: Learning the Ropes

Fancy Horse

Rodeo!!  Just the word sends a thrill through me!  The sights:  pickup trucks and trailers, cowboys in fancy chaps, horses that know their job, cowgirls in their pearl button finest, clowns with painted faces and fast shoes.   The sounds:  the clang of the metal gates, the bellowing of the bulls, the roar and reactions of the crowd.   The smells:  horse sweat, manure, hot dogs, popcorn and dust.

If you’ve never been to one, you’re in for a real treat.  If you grew up going to them, and maybe still go to them, you’ll get a kick out of the Dubois Friday night rodeo.  It is authentic.  All of the sights, sounds and smells that are ingrained in my memories from rodeos of my youth are all there, alive and well in Dubois.  Now, it’s not a PRCA sanctioned rodeo, so you’ll not see the NFR contenders.  (If you don’t know what those acronyms mean, it won’t matter to you anyway!)  But you will see cowboys and cowgirls from the surrounding area competing as if they were at the Cheyenne Frontier Days rodeo.

In a Dress No Less!

Goin' For It!

Rodeo is generally thought to be a guy’s sport.  Girls tend to be relegated to roles such as stampede queen, mounted drill teams, or for the extremely competitive, barrel racing.  Some rodeos will also have goat tying or other roping events that are sort of the equivalent of the pushups they have girls do in school so we could do as many as the boys.  When rodeo first started out west, there were lady bronc riders.  They were a rough and tumble group of gals; I doubt I could hold a candle to them.  There were also lady trick riders who performed many death defying feats on horseback.  I do those same tricks on occasion, but never on purpose.  So, I like to think that, we ladies simply wised up.  Why compete with the guys, when we had an opportunity to show our stuff and look stylish at the same time?

That brings me to the ribbon pull competition.  We never had this back home when I was growing up.  So, the morning that Gretchen latched on to me at breakfast and took me to the kitchen and proposed that I team up with Katie and Hannah for the ribbon pull event, I said sure, thinking, how hard could such a delicately named event be?  Before I knew what it was, I roped Robyn into this too.  We both whole heartedly said yes, feeling honored to be invited to the party!  As the day went on however, and the details of the ribbon pull event were revealed, we both paused to ask ourselves what the heck we had gotten into this time.  But, recall that Robyn is very competitive, and rose to the occasion.

Practicing with Ropes on Spring Mountain

That day, we had a day long ride up to Spring Mountain and I took the opportunity to quiz Mark about helpful hints that would enable Robyn and me to survive, if not win the event at the rodeo that night.  His main advice was this:  “Wrap the rope around your butt to hold the calf”.  OK.  Makes sense.  I cogitated on this advice for the rest of the afternoon and having dealt with cattle over the years, began to wonder about a few things, namely rope burn on a delicate body part.  I mentioned my concern to Mark over dinner that night and he gave me the second most valuable piece of advice:  “If your butt starts to smoke, let go of the rope.”  OK.  Another good tip.

Robyn and I traveled to Dubois in the ranch van with our teams.  During the ride we discussed various strategies.  For some of the girls, this was not their first rodeo as regarded competing in the ribbon pull.  I was feeling better about our chances…at winning and survival.  Robyn was beginning to feel a tad nauseous.  To be Continued….

Story of the Chop Trees

The T Cross Ranch sits amidst the Shoshone National Forest, named for one of the Indian tribes that first inhabited this area.  No one knows where the name Shoshone came from; these people were known by all around as the Snake Indians.  They got this moniker because when conducting raids on neighboring tribes, they would paint snakes on their faces to frighten the opposition.  They also lived along the Snake River, which either got its name from them or vice versa.

The Eastern Shoshone called the Wind River Basin home, although they were a nomadic people.  In the 1700s, horses came into their lives, and along with the others such as the Arapahoe, Sioux and Crow they came to prize their horses. In fact, among the Shoshones, ownership of horses determined your standing in the tribe.  They often conducted raids on other area tribes for purposes of stealing horses, which made them mortal enemies of the Crow in particular.

The Crow lived in the surrounding area of the Yellowstone River and the Big Horn basin.

Crow War Party

So, now back to the T Cross.  One day on a ride up to Boedeker Butte with Ken and Garey Neal, we took a little side jaunt into a densely wooded area.  Mr. Neal pointed out a good number of stumps that had quite obviously been crudely chopped at about 4-5 feet from the ground.  He told us the story of the Shoshone hunting party that had run into a raiding party of Crow Indians.

Shoshone Hunting Party

The Shoshone worked their way up to this high ground and hid themselves in the woods.  There, they played the waiting game with the Crow party who stayed down below, nice and cozy in the valley waiting for them to give up.  The Shoshone used their tomahawks and chopped the trees down to get the nuts from these White Bark Pine which were too limber to climb. That explains why there are so many chop marks!  Being there among the new growth trees with these ancient stumps sticking up here and there, it was easy to imagine the hunting party trying to survive on what game they could find close by, eating nuts and wishing to heck those danged Crow would give up and go home!

We don’t know how the story ended…whether the Crow finally moved on, or whether they flushed out the Shoshone and killed them, taking their horses.  When you visit, you can imagine your own ending.  History tells us that eventually, the Shoshone did win the day.

Chief Washakie

Washakie went on to negotiate a deal with the government which granted them 2.2 million acres of their Wind River tribal lands as their reservation.  Home to 2,650 Eastern Shoshone today, it is the burial place of both Washakie and Sacajawea.  Another interesting place to visit while you’re heading to the T Cross!

Whether the Weather

I have lived a lot of different places in my life, and most everywhere I have been, I am always told:  “We have a saying around here.  If you don’t like the weather, just wait a few minutes!”  A few places I have lived, this did not apply at all.  Seattle for example.  The weather was either dreary or gorgeous but the wait between was often weeks!  My years in Alaska proved that the weather would change from cold to colder to coldest, and that often would occur in a matter of minutes.  I found New England weather to be fairly predictable and not all that subject to sudden change, but I must say that the one place I have ever spent time where this saying is true is at the T Cross!

 The T Cross is well equipped for weather.  They have several racks loaded with yellow rain slickers so you don’t need to worry about packing one!  My first trip to T Cross, I had selected my slicker and was walking back outside when Mark stopped me and said “Why’d you pick the yellow one?”  That stumped me for a minute and then I realized he was just having some fun with a new dudette.  I smartly replied that I had chosen yellow because it reminded me of sunshine which I was hoping we had plenty of that week!

One trip we experienced nearly every weather event absent a hurricane or a tornado.  We had sun, clouds, wind, rain, lightening, hail, and snow.  Sometimes several of these were all in one day!!  It must be a factor of the altitude and the location that brings such changeable weather.  In the morning it can be downright chilly even in the middle of summer.  By afternoon, you’ll be peeling off clothes and watching exposed skin turn pink from the sun.

Then there are the summer thunderstorms.  In the mountains, these are absolutely awe inspiring.  From seemingly out of nowhere, big thunderheads will begin to gather.  Then you’ll hear the rumble of thunder coming from miles away.  You’ll think you have time to get down or out or under or into your slicker but they move fast!  Wicked fast.  Before you know it, the air is electric.  The wind picks up, the trees moan as they are bent this way and that.  Then you see flashes of lightening streaking across and down from the sky.  The thunder is LOUD.  Sometimes it shakes the very earth on which you’re riding.  Now it will either begin to rain or pelt hail.  If you’ve been lucky enough to get your slicker on, you pull up the collar and pull down your hat.  The air is sparkling, and smells quick and clean.  Your horse lowers its head and you move a little faster.  And then, as soon as it’s begun, it’s over.

The sun comes out from behind the clouds that are moving so fast.  Your horse shakes off the wetness which has shined its coat so it looks like an otter.  You push your hat back and open your coat and breathe in deeply the smell of rain freshened earth and pine.  In these moments, you have never felt so alive.

I recall one time riding with Kel.  A storm had come up and we had dismounted to don our slickers.  The wind, thunder and lightning were upon us and the rain was starting.  I took a deep breath, looked around me at this wonder of nature and said “God, I love this.”  Kel laughed and said “What a relief, I thought I was the only crazy one.  I love it too!”

Whether the day is hot and dusty, cold and snowy, or some kind of weather in between, it’s just another day on the T Cross.  And that means it’s just right.

Smoke Follows Beauty; Right?

There’s something about fire that has always intrigued me.  Not in an arsonist kind of way mind you, but in a more primal sense.  It makes me feel safe, content, and evokes a kind of dreamy state of mind that brings me a sense of peacefulness.

The best part of camping out for me has always been the time spent around the campfire.  At night, it promotes singing and story telling; in the morning there is nothing like a campfire to ward off the chill and get the day off to a perfect start!

Fortunately, at T Cross, there are ample opportunities to satisfy my fire desire without having to sleep in a tent!!  Many of the cabins have fireplaces which are fabulous!  It is simply nirvana to return to your cabin in the evening, light a fire, and read a good book before turning back the covers and crawling into a heavenly bed to drift off to sleep listening to the crackle and pop of the dying fire.  The lodge will have a fire roaring away in the morning so you can warm your backside while downing your first cup of coffee.  And in the evenings, you can light a fire in the big fireplace in the Ranch Room to share tales of adventure over a cup of hot chocolate while watching the flames dance.  Every Wednesday night, there is a cookout down by the creek and a big campfire is built for everyone to gather around.  There is nothing quite so relaxing as sitting there with the creek rippling and gurgling by, watching the stars and moon come out as you fall into a trance watching the fire.

To facilitate the whole fire starting process, T Cross provides this miracle fire starter which is nothing more than sawdust soaked with diesel fuel.  But it puts fat wood and kindling to shame.  A couple of tablespoons of this amazing stuff and you will feel like Daniel Boone!  I usually become the “girl scout” and either get the fires going, or keep the fires tended.  It just makes me feel useful, and besides it is a good skill to have if you ever get lost in the wilderness.  Of course, not having T Cross Wonder Dust might make the task more difficult; maybe I need to take a little baggy of the stuff along in my saddlebags just in case!

Now, all of that said, there have been occasions when my fire building and tending techniques have been less than stellar.  My friend Robyn has woken many a time to find the cabin filled with smoke. Much of her luggage is now relegated solely to T Cross use because it smells like a campfire.  She has taken to putting her “travel home” clothes in an airtight container so that she won’t offend others on her flight when it’s time to leave.  Unfortunately for her, my “smoke-outs” have not been limited to the cabin.

One memorable evening a group of us had returned from the wagon ride and decided to go hang out in the Ranch Room awhile.  I assumed the fire duty and got a good one roaring away in the fireplace.  We made hot chocolate, and enjoyed each other’s company while falling into that fire induced trance.  That is until the fire alarm began shrieking!  We looked up and noted with some amazement that a thick fog of smoke had filled the room.  We leapt into action throwing open windows and doors and waving blankets in front of the smoke detector.  I moved the fire a little further back into the fireplace and soon the air became clear and breathable again.  Unfortunately for Robyn, she had worn her “travel home” clothes that night and was now wreathed in the perfume of Eau du Flambé.

The next morning we sheepishly asked Mark if he had heard the smoke alarm.  He had, but figured we’d gotten a little carried away with the evening’s solace and it was nothing to worry about.   The T Cross truly is “Home, Sweet Home”.  Smoke and all.

Thanks to Tedd Kidd, fellow dude and fire-man for the photos!

Driving for Donuts

Wyoming is a land of wide open spaces and in parts there are miles and miles and miles of open highway with huge vistas and little traffic.  If you are coming from a part of the country that is bound up with traffic congestion most of the time, a person can get a little carried away.  Wyoming can bring out the Mary or Mario Andretti in all of us.

I happen to be lead footed by nature.  After all, I live in the land of NASCAR.  Driving in and around Atlanta is nothing more than a chance to exhibit what I’ve learned watching my favorite driver (Mark Martin) zip around the track dodging competitors.

So it happened one day driving down from Montana to Cody that the inevitable happened.  I got pulled over by a lady State Trooper.  (So much for using my feminine wiles!)  She asked what the hurry was, and as it turned out, I was in a bit of a hurry, so I explained that I was on my way to Cody to watch a horse I was hoping to buy in the next day’s auction perform in the ranch competition.  She only seemed mildly interested.  My friends who were with me chimed in that I’d come all the way from Georgia!  This garnered a smile which translated to “gotta dude here who needs a lesson”.  She patiently inquired if I knew what the speed limit was; and I said that it was 70.  She asked how fast I thought I had been going.  “More than 70”? I guessed.  She then began my education.  The speed limit was 65, it changed when I crossed into Wyoming…did I know when that had occurred?  Not really.  She then proceeded to quiz me as to whether I had seen each of a half dozen or so speed limit signs noting their exact and precise locations for me.  I wanted to say that I guessed I had been going too fast to notice, but some part of my brain kicked in and told me that would not be smart.  The end result was that I got a ticket, but she did give a discount because we all were wearing our seat belts; further proof that it pays to be safety conscious.

I was relating this story to Mark and he agreed that the Wyoming Troopers were pretty no nonsense.  He confessed that he himself had gotten stopped for speeding recently, which given the fact his brother is a cop made it somewhat of a worse situation.  As it turns out, Mark relentlessly teases his brother about always being at the donut shop.  He never fails to ask what the flavor of the month is or inquire about what bad guys might have been nabbed while hanging out getting donuts.  So now Mark is trying to use his cowboy magnetism on the Trooper to hopefully just get a warning about the dangers of speeding across Wyoming.  At this critical moment, 7 year old daughter Kameron pipes up from the back seat and asks the Trooper, “Hey, do you like donuts?”  Needless to say, Mark got a ticket, along with a valuable lesson relating to little pitchers having big ears!

When you come to Wyoming, and you find yourself pushing down a little hard on the accelerator, just try to relax, slow down and enjoy the ride.  And for Pete’s sake, if you do get stopped, don’t mention anything about donuts!