Nothing quite says “springtime” in Wyoming like the buoyant and flutelike call of the Western Meadowlark!  I just got back from a quick visit out West which included a couple of days in Wyoming.  To hear the song of the meadowlark let me know I was home and sure made me happy!

The Western Meadowlark is the Wyoming state bird, so named in 1927.  It is also the state bird for 5 other states, but I like to think the meadowlark is happiest in the grasslands, prairies and fields of Wyoming. 

Meadowlarks are members of the blackbird family and were given the scientific moniker of Sturnella neglecta by none other than John James Audubon himself!  He chose “neglecta” because he believed this lovely songbird was often overlooked by the explorers and settlers to the area.

Meadowlarks are ground feeders, mostly living on insects and seeds.  They also build their nests on the ground; the female will find a slight depression in the earth, often a hoof print, and will weave a bowl shaped nest from grasses.  She will usually build it near a clump of grass or sage and also constructs a roof for the nest to protect it from the elements and keep the eggs and resulting babies dry.

You can usually hear these birds before you see them, but they are beautiful.  They have a striking yellow breast which is crossed by a distinctive black v-shaped band.  Often you will spot the males sitting atop a fence post singing their joyous song.  I think it sounds like they’re singing “T Cross is a pretty little place”!  Click here to listen to a meadowlark singing!

The next time you visit Wyoming and the T Cross, give a listen and just see if you don’t feel light hearted after hearing their song.

Ace of Spades Wet Fly

Make no mistake.  I am not a fly fisherman, but I find the world of fly fishing to be immensely interesting.  Maybe because I took so much biology and entomology in school, the effort that goes into designing flies to fit the environmental moment fascinates me.

Flies fall into 4 basic categories:  dry, wet, nymphs and streamers.  There are a couple of others, but no need to overcomplicate this, right?  I have written before about the difference between dry and wet; dry imitates a bug above the surface of the water and wet imitates a bug in the water, either alive or dead.  Nymphs imitate, well, nymphs.  These are bugs in their infancy.  Streamers imitate dead bait fish in the water.

So a novice might be able to manage those four things and figure out what the fish might be biting on, but you cannot believe the variety of flies in each of those categories.  There must be thousands.  I’m not kidding.

Red Clown Nymph

And they all have such cool names, but it’s not always obvious from where the name was derived.  For example in the dry fly category you’ll find the gray wulf, blue dun, humpy, green drake, and cahill.  Wet flies include the coachman, the royal coachman, ginger quill, hare’s ear and the parmachene belle.  Nymphs and streamers also come in a wide variety with similarly interesting names.

Black Wulff Dry Fly

Olive Wolly Burger Streamer

One day I was putzing around the office when one of the dudes came in hoping to borrow a rod and get a lesson on fly fishing.  He knew about as much about it as me.  Mark, who is always very helpful, pulled down a fly rod from its perch on the porch and checked it out before passing it over to the dude.  He noted that the rod already was fixed up with a fly.  The dude took a look and said “Oh, perfect.  That’s my favorite fly!!  What is it??”  I found this very amusing, but without missing a beat Mark said, “Why that’s a green Johnson mayfly with a rooster tail.”  I swear my mouth gaped open.  Is there no end to this man’s knowledge?  I have learned from past experience to always watch Mark’s face very carefully when he is quick to spout off a little factoid like this.  It didn’t take long before he gave a big grin and sheepishly admitted that he had no idea what kind of fly was hooked onto the rod.

This did not diminish the dude’s enthusiasm and with a quick casting lesson he was off to Horse Creek to try his hand at it.  I don’t recall whether or not he had any luck with that green Johnson mayfly with a rooster tail or not.  But I can guarantee you; he had a great time trying!

“Here fishy, fishy!”
Maryann Kowalyshyn, the Fish Whisperer on Horse Creek

When you visit the T Cross, try your hand at fly fishing one morning or evening.  But if Mark tries to tell you what you’re fishing with exactly, take it with a grain of salt!  And remember when all else fails, just call out “Here fishy, fishy!”  It works.  I promise.

If you grew up in the ‘60’s like me, and have never been to Yellowstone, your image of the park may be like mine.  Cars lined up on a narrow road with bears hanging through the windows looking for a pik-a-nik basket as Yogi Bear and Boo-Boo would do!  Thankfully due to more knowledgeable wildlife management, bears no longer line the roads awaiting treats from families passing through.  Thank goodness or I would’ve had to of worn Depends on my trip!   You also no doubt have seen pictures of Old Faithful spouting water into the air, and maybe have seen pictures of bison and what not.  It is all of that and much more!

Yellowstone Park has an interesting history.  It was of course occupied by Indians first, primarily the Sheepeater branch of the Shoshone.  In 1807-1808, John Colter who also first explored the area of the T Cross, ventured into part of the park after he left the Lewis and Clark expedition.  He got into a scrape with the Crows and Blackfoot Indians in 1809, and while recovering from his injuries told of what he had seen on his adventure.  His stories of fire and brimstone left people believing he was delirious from his injuries.

They spoke thereafter of “Colter’s Hell”, but did not believe the stories to be true.  Over the years other fur trappers would roam the area and tell similar stories but it was all myth to those listening.  Even the infamous Jim Bridger explored the lands of Yellowstone in 1856, but because he was known to be a spinner of yarns, nobody believed his stories of petrified forests, boiling mud and steaming rivers either.

In 1871 geologist Ferdinand Hayden mounted an official expedition known as the Hayden Geological Survey.  He compiled a comprehensive report on the area and I reckon because it was “scientific” people finally sat up and listened.  He recommended that the area should be set aside and not be developed because of its uniqueness.  So, on March 1, 1872 Ulysses S. Grant established it as a national park, the nation’s first! (Isn’t it interesting how much faster things got done back in the old days?)  It was operated by the U.S. Army until 1918 when it was turned over to the newly established National Park Service.  Shortly after that, horse transportation was prohibited to travel through the park, giving way to the advent of the automobile which by then numbered over 1,000 visitors.

Yellowstone is huge; larger than Rhode Island and Delaware combined.  It covers 2.2 million acres, 96% of which are in Wyoming.  The park has an active volcano, 300 geysers, 290 waterfalls 15 feet or higher and 67 species of mammals!  It also has one of the world’s largest petrified forests.  Yellowstone Lake itself has 131.7 square miles of surface area, and is 410 feet deep at its deepest point!  That said, you can still see a lot just doing a day drive on one of the loops  going through the park along with some easy hiking.

When you come to the T Cross, I would definitely take an extra day or two and visit Yellowstone.  It is astounding, and you will be able to imagine what those early explorers must’ve experienced, and will be able to understand why people thought they were one enchilada short of the combo plate.  At T Cross you’ll be able to do your own exploring the way the trappers did; albeit with better food and sleeping accommodations!   Then you can return home with your own remarkable tales; which hopefully your friends and family will believe!

Thanks to Kel Smith for some spectacular photos from her Yellowstone ventures.  In case you missed it on Facebook, Kel launched her own website to display her photography and you can now purchase prints of western landscapes, critters, horses and cowboys!! Plus you can customize prints to include cool quotations or other expressions to fit the photo or the occasion!  Perfect for gift giving!!   Visit www.spiritofthewestphotography.com today!

It’s morning down at the corral and the groups are getting sorted out to go in different directions based on the rider’s experience and comfort level.  It is always a special treat when Mark has time to take out a group of riders who are in his words “cowboy enough”.  He makes sure everybody’s set, and then he mounts up saying one of two things:  “Let’s go get lost” or “Let’s go see some country”.  Either way, you know you’re in for a treat!

No trail? No problem.

I have noted before that Mark has a built in GPS and need not have a trail to follow to get where he wants to go and back.  He very literally knows the Wyoming country like the back of his hand.   I told Mark the first time we took one of these divergent rides that if I was ever going to be a wranglerette, I would have to add a new feature to the T Cross activities:  The Surprise Pack Trip.  The way it would work is this; if I wound up getting lost and was not able to make it back to the ranch by dark, I would just holler “Surprise!!!  It’s a Pack Trip!” and the dudes would think they were getting in on something very special.  I still think this idea has potential.

It’s on these adventures that you are able to do some treasure hunting!  Mark likes to find out where all of the critters are hanging out, and in doing so, you can sometimes find evidence of their recent occupation in a meadow,  on game trail, or near a watering hole.  And it’s always exciting.  Of course, sometimes Mark likes to test your path finding skills and will stop at a point and ask you where the ranch is.  Or you’ll come across a trail and he’ll ask you where it goes.  I personally enjoy these tests, and find a lot of comfort when I am right on occasion.  It’s good to know if something happened to Mark, I’d be able to get us back…eventually.

Robyn and Earl pack out part of her future chandelier!

Am I smiling because I know the way home; or is it just glee over the elkhorn?

On a couple of these rides, Robyn and I both have been lucky to find elk shed.  Robyn has a nice start on a chandelier she’s hoping to build one of these days.  Last count, I think she needed just 14 more!  You tie them on your saddle and when you get back to your cabin you marvel at the fact you have a little piece of the wilderness to take home.  Of course packing these can sometimes be a challenge, but it’s worth it.

I have mine in a place of honor on a shelf by the fireplace.  It is very cool.  There are also a variety of carcasses of different critters that became part of the food chain.  I wrote earlier about Merle, the ram’s head Mark found early last summer.  Once when riding Mark pointed out an eagle feather laying out in the grass and I promptly jumped off of Idaho to scoop it up!  As I poked it in my hat band, Mark sang a little bit of Yankee Doodle to mark the moment: “Put a feather in her cap and called it macaroni!”  That feather is in a piece of Indian pottery sitting near the elkhorn; it always makes me smile to look at it and remember that day.

There’s no telling what treasures await us this summer!  So, get your boots and jeans packed, get ready to come to the T Cross and let’s go see some country!

It so happens that April 21-27 is Cowboy Poetry Week!  This 12^th annual event was recognized by a U.S. Senate Resolution and is recognized by 23 state’s governors.   Now some of you may think you have never heard a cowboy poem, but I’ll bet a lot of you recognize the song “The Strawberry Roan”.  When I was growing up, my brother had the Marty Robbin’s Gunfighter album which featured this song, and I nearly wore a rut in the record playing it over and over again.  What you probably don’t know is that the poem was written by Curley Fletcher in 1915.  Curley was a rodeo cowboy and a fairly prolific poet.  He went to California in the 1930’s during the heyday of western movies.  He was successful in getting his poem about the rank roan horse published as a song in 1931.  Marty Robbins popularized it and although it has been sung by numerous others, his version is still my favorite.  Click here to have a listen!

Another early cowboy poet was E. A. Brininstool (1870-1957) who was not a working cowboy, but was a western historian best known for his writings on the Battle of the Little Bighorn and General Custer.  In 1914, he introduced a collection of poetry, Trail Dust of a Maverick.  He was born in New York and spent most of his life in Los Angeles, California and it is easy to tell from his writings how much he loved the West and in what high regard he held cowboys.  Here’s one of my favorites:

The West For Me

I love the peaks with their snow-bound caps; the stately mountains grand;

The pungent smell of the bending pines that tower on either hand;

The streams that leap through canyons deep and the winds’s low melody—

I heed their call, for I love them all—‘tis the West, the West for me!

I love the stretches of desert gray; the brown buttes grim and high;

I love the scent of the sagebrush flats; the blue of the vaulted sky;

The charm and spell of each new draw and sell, and the sifting sand-dunes free;

They grip and hold as their charms unfold—aye, the West, the West for me!

I love the trail through the lonely hills to the door of the old log shack,

And an insist strong is luring on as it calls and beckons back.

I love the croon of the low, sweet tune that sighs through the scrub-oak tree,

And the bubbling note from the wild-bird’s throat—ah, the West, the West for me!

I love the herds on the open rang; the riders who guard them well,

Who ride like fiends in the night stampede through the ocean of chaparral.

I love to dream in the campfire’s gleam of the days as they used to be,

And the stalwart men who were heroes then—so the West, the West for me!

Oh, the boundless West, and the wild, free life that is spent in the open air,

With the handiwork of the God of All in the plains and the mountains there!

I love the seep of the streams that creep from the hills to the throbbing sea,

And I hear their call as the shadows fall—oh, the West, the West for me!

Andy Nelson and his horse Lovie

I hope you’ve enjoyed this little bit of western culture.  And I hope we’ll see you at the T Cross this summer where you can experience The West yourself!  And who knows?  Maybe you’ll write some cowboy poetry of your own!

So I have been pondering this for some time and decided to conduct a little research!  I began with the premise of there being a difference between a buckaroo and a cowboy.  A trainer I am working with makes this distinction about himself, and he wears his britches tucked into his buckaroo style boots. He’s in his 70’s and worked on ranches in Oklahoma and Colorado back in the day.   In talking with him about it, it is just a matter of style and what he grew up with combined with a desire to show off the tops of his boots.  I noted that his son who is a little younger than me wears his boots both ways depending on the boots.  If he has on his buckaroo boots, the pants are tucked in; regular cowboy boots, he wears the jeans over the top.  (Buckaroo boots are generally taller and have 4 holes in the top to poke your fingers through to pull them on.)

What does history tell us?  Well, in looking at old photos from the 1870’s-early 1900’s, it would seem some cowboys tucked and some did not.  Photos of vaqueros from the same period depict the same…some tuck and some don’t.  Frankly, either way, they look like pretty tough cowboys to me!

Well, could there be practical reasons for the style one way or the other?  There is the thought that your pants stay cleaner, especially when it’s muddy if you put your pants inside your boots.  Others note that by tucking your pants in, you can prevent ticks and other unsavory critters from crawling up your leg.  In opposition to that view is the position that tucking your pants in allows all matter of debris and critters to get down into your boots!  And of course, there are those that believe people that tuck their pants in are just showing off their fancy boots which is as gauche as leaving a price tag hanging on your hat!

It could be that those who wear their britches tucked in are just avoiding another cowboy fashion faux paux which is that of high water pants.  Gretchen has given me full instruction on this as well.  Jeans must be long enough that they “pool” or “stack up” around your boot.  Essentially, when you don’t have your boots on, they have to be long enough to walk on.  And then when you are riding, the pant leg has sufficient length that it remains down over the boot.  If your pants are too short, you can tuck them in your boots; but either way, you run the risk of descending into dorkitude.

So what’s the bottom line?  In all things of a controversial nature, I always look to my childhood hero Roy Rogers…What would Roy do?  In all of the pictures I perused of Roy, he more often than not wore his britches tucked inside his boots.  And, may I say, he doesn’t look dorky at all!   I think either way is acceptable…it’s whatever makes you feel good that counts.  Just make sure you don’t put your cowboy hat on backwards.  Some things are just too hard to overlook.

As the story goes, one day awhile back some of the longtime residents of Dubois had gotten together to swap stories, and soon discovered they mutually knew of a place that held what was thought to be the remains of a sheep trap.

This area was inhabited by the Shoshone Indians; a branch known as the Sheepeaters because of their fondness for incorporating Big Horn Sheep into their diet.  Big Horn Sheep are not the easiest critter to hunt even nowadays with high powered scopes and long range rifles!  So imagine the ingenuity it took for people to successfully hunt them with nothing but a bow and arrow and a spear!  Fortunately for the Shoshone, Big Horn Sheep are, well, sheep; meaning when all is said and done, they are not the brightest of creatures.  You’ve undoubtedly heard the expression, “following along like a herd of sheep”.  It is the nature of sheep to flock together and to follow one another no matter what.  The Shoshone had observed this and used the landscape and a simple structure to their advantage.  They would construct a sheep trap which was nothing more than a 3 sided pen.  Then would place it strategically and drive the Big Horn sheep into it.  Because sheep aren’t too bright and because they cling to one another like lint to black pants, once in the trap they were easy pickings.

A small team of archeologists set out to do a little more checking of the sheep trap and based on their initial exploration, it is now believed that the sheep trap was actually a dwelling.  They also found evidence of several caches which will need to be further excavated, and a depression in the rocks on a point giving view to the length and breadth of the valley which was probably a look out.  These discoveries earned the area an official name:  Seipt-Boedeker Site.

This would not have been a place I would select for a house…it’s up high and is pretty exposed so it would be windy and cold most of the time.  In my imaginary Shoshone world, I think it was some sort of a look-out station.  Maybe they took turns up there watching for sheep or the errant band of their enemy the Crow.  The little depression out on the very edge of the ridge would have been a perfect spot to crouch or lay in (except for the rocks!) to watch all of the comings and goings in the Horse Creek valley.

It is going to be exciting to see what the archeologists ultimately find and I can hardly wait to hear what they decide this area was used for back in the day.  In the meantime, I am sticking with my lookout story!

A big shout out to Danny and Sue Bartlett, and Gretchen for the photos!

You will find some of the best fishing anywhere at the T Cross.  Horse Creek, the ranch pond and the high country lakes all provide ample opportunity to try out that new fly rod and experience the thrill of catching one of the variety of fish that inhabit the waters of Wyoming.  T Cross has managed their fishery well and maintain a healthy population of fish in Horse Creek and the ranch pond.  They even worked with one of the large ranches nearer Dubois to put in a fish ladder to help assure spawning trout will be able to return to the Horse Creek waters that run through the ranch!  Each year the creek and the pond on the ranch are stocked so there is rarely a day when a fisherman gets skunked!

Fish species in Wyoming include the lovely Rainbow Trout which most everybody is familiar with. It is the main species stocked in Wyoming waters, but you will still find because of the catch and release policy on T Cross that the Rainbow Trout get to a nice fat size! And of course the beautiful rainbow coloration on their sides makes them unmistakable. Cutthroat Trout, so called because of the crimson slash on either side of their throats are the Wyoming State fish!  They are native to the area and are an exciting sport fish since they put up such a great fight when caught.  Among the Cutthroat family there are a number of subspecies based on their spawning area, including the Colorado River, Snake River and Yellowstone Cutthroats.  Last year T Cross actually stocked Horse Creek with Yellowstone Cutthroats along with more Rainbows!  Since Cutthroat Trout live around 12 years, these fish will provide entertainment to T Cross fishermen for years to come!

Golden Trout

The T Cross loves fishermen, and are always excited to help the adventurous fly fisherman get to areas where they can experience the thrill of matching wits with these wonderful wild creatures, and more often than not, holding one in their hands for that special photograph before releasing it back to its wild waters!  You don’t have to be experienced either…Mark or one of the wranglers are always ready to give a fly fishing lesson, and more often than not one of the guests revels in teaching a newby all about this sport they love.

So, what are you waiting for??  Get that tackle box straightened out, pack those waders and I’ll  see you on Horse Creek!!

Special thanks to Maryann Kowalyshyn for the photos of her husband Ted giving the fish a run for their money on Horse Creek!

The cowboys love riding with The Boss! Here on top of Hole in the Wall are l to r Joe, Mark, Clancey and Conner

It is with great sorrow that we mourn the passing of a member of the T Cross family.  On Sunday, March 17, 2013, Guy ‘Clancey’ Rinderknecht was killed in a single car automobile accident.  He and his brother Joe, also a T Cross cowboy, had brought their grandmother up to their home in Ririe, Idaho for Spring Break week and were taking her back home to Utah when the accident happened. Joe remains hospitalized in Pocatello, ID with a broken leg, and their grandmother is hospitalized in Murray, UT with multiple serious injuries.

Clancey and Blue lead us across the Sheep Trail

Clancey was a cowboy on the T Cross for several years, and loved the cowboy life.  He was a good hand, and a fine horseman.  I recall watching in amazement as he rode Blue in the gymkhana and did a perfect pole bend run complete with flying lead changes at every pole.  It didn’t take Clancey long to learn about my penchant for keeping Idaho’s mane and tail neat; I still chuckle when I remember the look of wide eyed astonishment on his face the first time he saw me spraying conditioner on her!  He always took great care after that when bridling her to keep her mane in order.  He loved the wide open country, and appreciated the opportunity to explore the wilderness surrounding the T Cross.  Clancey also enjoyed nothing more than a quick nap on the tackroom porch, soaking up the late afternoon sun.

Clancey regales us at lunch with a tale of cowboy adventure!

He wore a special pair of chaps and an elkhorn slide on his wildrag, both gifts from his Dad, Guy, to mark his high school graduation.  He loved these and I know he saw them as recognition from his father of his passage into manhood.  Clancey was also sentimental, and I teased him one day about picking a stem of harebells and tucking them into his hatband.  He then explained to me that this was a ritual handed down from his Dad and served to remember a loved one that had passed.

I believe Clancey is riding with the angels now, and watching over his family and friends.  Ride in peace Clancey; we know all of your trails will be happy ones.  We will miss your wry smile, your stories, and the cowboy spirit you brought to all you did.  This summer, I’ll be picking a stem of wildflowers and tucking them in my hatband.

A beautiful video tribute honoring Clancey’s life on the T Cross can be seen here.  Whether you ever had the pleasure of meeting him or not, it will touch your heart.

Special Note:  Many of our T Cross friends have asked how they might help the Rinderknecht family.  A fund has been established and will be used to help with expenses.  If you would like to make a donation, you can mail a check or use Bill Pay on your bank account and send it to the following address:

Bank of Commerce

P.O. Box 628

Ririe, Idaho 83443

Checks should be made out to Guy Rinderknecht and the memo field should note “Clancey Rinderknecht Fund”.  Thanks so much.

How many of these can you tie?

Idaho and her friends admire my “wonder knot”!

I figured out a way to tie a horse to a ring or a rail so that if they pull back, it won’t tighten up, and it’s pretty easy to get undone, and the horse can’t untie himself.  When T Cross wranglers note my “wonder knot”, so called because they wonder what it is, they promptly undo it and tie one of their own making.  Then I usually struggle trying to find the trick to loosening the knot so I can get my horse.  Several wranglers over the years have attempted to show me their knots.  You guessed it.  Hopeless.

One evening Mr. and Mrs. Neal were visiting the ranch and as we were sitting out on the lodge porch, I told Mr. Neal of my struggle with knots.  He promptly got up and went over to the end of the porch where the strings for the shades were hanging.  He pulled a length down, and showed me a bowline and a half hitch.  Then he proceeded to show me in slow motion and I would then try to repeat it.  Somehow, my loops were never going the right direction and the end never came out in the right spot and the knot either wound up just unraveling or getting into a knot that was difficult to untie.  You know what they say, “If you can’t tie a knot, just tie a lot!”   Mr. Neal finally gave up.

One knot I can tie!

Back home here in Georgia, I remain committed to learning how to tie a few handy knots.  A horse trainer I’m working with has picked up where Mr. Neal left off.  So far I can tie a square buckaroo knot in my wild rag!  That only took about 3 repeated lessons.  I have also learned how to tie a bowline, a quick release and an alamar knot although I haven’t practiced those in a little while so I wouldn’t be surprised if their mysteries elude me again.

Why, I wonder is this so difficult for me?  I think I may have the answer.  I caught a segment of a news program that was talking about mathematics.  They explored all of the things that have their basis in math, as a means I suppose of prompting interest in this particular field of education.  Frankly, just the word “math” causes a cold shiver to run up my spine.  Only memorization skills saved me in this area, because the logic of math was completely beyond me.  Well, wouldn’t you know it, but it turns out knot tying is based in mathematics!  No wonder then that knot tying for me is much like those old math word problems about a train leaving Chicago at 9:00 a.m. traveling at 70 mph and another train leaving Denver at…well you probably recall these types of puzzlers.

A quick release knot I must keep practicing!

The next time you’re at the T Cross, if you’re a math whiz, try your hand at knot tying and see if you can one-up the wranglers!  Or, if you’re a left brained thinker like me…keep practicing on the shade cords on the porch and leave the horse tying to the wranglers.