Then I saw the image that began, and defined, our Cow Camp adventure. From the mountains to our west, silhouetted by the glow of the days dying sun, we saw a cowboy on a horse emerge from the forest, riding at full gallop toward our dirt road. I remember my exact thought when I saw this image, 'is this real...'. Sam yelled, 'that's Floyd, let me out'.
And thus began our Cow Camp adventure.
Floyd is the head cowboy that tends the massive heard of cows that graze within this slice of heaven in the American west. He defies logic in every sense of the word. I don't know how old he is, if I had to guess I'd say 28. But he told stories of remembering when his family got electricity and his time serving in the armed forces during the Vietnam war. But, then I saw him do things that many men in their 20's would not be able to do. He truly is an amazing man that has found the fountain of youth amongst the cows.
What is Cow Camp? It's an idea born through two very gifted people; Ann Bogdanich and Floyd Whiting. It's work, its relationships, its forgetting the concrete jungle, its a connection with horses, its where the sky is still bigger than the ground, its classic American west, its absolute serenity.
Our good friends, the Skoruts, introduced us to the Cow Camp idea a couple years ago. They've been spending time at Cow Camp for years. This year they invited our family.
Ann helps Floyd, and his dogs Sam and Jack, tend the cattle under his care on about 5000 acres of rangeland. While they do this, family and friends pay visits through the summer. Within a short amount of time, those visitors are shown where the saddles are and told what needs to be done for the day; mending fences, moving cows, doctoring cows, finding wandering cows in the Caribou National Forest, or exploding giant ant hills.
It took a couple days for Cristal and Abigail to make it to Cow Camp; the druthers of adult education had caught up with Cristal. Which was particularly difficult for me because Cristal is normally my voice of reason when I have irrational fears; like my fear of horses. Although, my fear of horses seemed pretty rational to me. My two previous riding experiences both ended disastrously. The first, I witnessed my wife get bucked off a horse in a river then stepped on by the horse. The second, I witnessed my neighbor get bucked off into a 50' ravine that I surely thought had killed her (it did not, thank God). I had more or less vowed that horses would never be a part of my life; skis, bikes, and running shoes were adequate modes of transportation for me.
After a sleepless first night, the morning arrived too soon for me. I tried to ease my anxiety with an early morning run with Pele. We ran about 4 miles through the cattle. The morning had a magical sense to it. A low lying mist covered the land. The cows seemed to emerge briefly from the mist to watch the clumsy biped limp along with his trusty companion. The only sound was that of cows waking up as the sun breached the horizon.
After the morning run I donned my cowboy boots and hat; two items of clothing I had not worn since I was kid. I was told to saddle Big Aus. Aus is a large draft horse that I can almost walk under. And I was supposed to ride him. At that point I almost backed out of the morning round up. Until I looked over and saw Sam saddling Look without a worry in the world.
Floyd and Ann had tons of patience teaching me about the horse. Not only the logistics of a cinch adjustment and stirrup lengths; but the art of communicating with the horse. After long negotiations, and some pleading for mercy with Aus, we were off on the first round up of the trip.
A herd of cattle had skirted around a fence line through Forest Service land. Our job was to move the herd back to the range. Sam and Luka were off on their horses and Mat in trail with the Rhino. Jessica, Mike, Ann (with baby William attached to the horse like a saddle bag) and Floyd all looked as cozy as a tornado in a trailer park. I, on the other hand, was feeling like the trailer in the tornado's path. Then to make matters more precarious, a heavy rain storm hit.
We rode on. I learned more about horses during those hours than I had learned my entire life. The best part for me was that we had a task to complete - move cows, and we completed it. We were all a little wet and hungry by the end of the day; but Ann's and Floyd's special spaghetti quickly cured what ailed us.
And that's how the days went by at Cow Camp; early morning exercises, planning the day's work, saddling horses, coffee with Floyd, finding cows, herding cows, and moving cows; with a few deviations here and there.
The days were broken up by finding work around the property. There were two turn-of-the-century houses or barns on the property with Floyd's one room cinder block house. The boys enjoyed playing around the building, dismantling an old four wheeler, or hitch hiking on the road that nobody traveled on.
During this time I graduated from the predictably meandering Draft horse to the feisty Mustang, Dusty. Dusty was one of Floyd's horses and she really knew how to work cows and climb mountains. And we did plenty of that in the days that followed.
I was thoroughly impressed by everybody's riding ability. Mike, Mat, Luka, and Sam were fun to watch; confident with a hint of recklessness. Jessica was smooth as ice riding Brontz, with no recklessness needed. It was easy to see that Ann had a connection with the horses that only comes with years of experience. Then there was Floyd; he and horse were truly a team that appeared to almost be sharing the same thoughts. I had never thought of a horse and rider in this context before; but, I had never witnessed first hand what I saw with Floyd and his horse. The beauty is beyond words.
As the third day wound down, Floyd announced we'd be doing what he called the 'canyon ride'. This was an almost daily ride for Ann and Floyd. It was a technical climb up a narrow and steep canyon into Forest Service land looking for wandering cows. And if the ride up wasn't enough to intimidate a seasoned rider, the ride down on a goat trail across a very steep slope, with a herd of cattle in single file fashion, would surely do it. In fact, Floyd relayed stories of accomplished riders he'd taken up the trail who made excuses why they couldn't join in subsequent rides up. Then he told me I was going up with him and Ann!
By this time I was pretty comfortable riding on open land. I had no idea what I was getting into with the 'canyon ride'. There were tight sections that Ann told me to watch my knees on or risk a broken knee. There were streams and logs that the horses had to jump to negotiate. Then there was a really muddy, steep hill that I watched Floyd go down with his horse; effectively the horse slid down the hill without taking a step. Before I could bail, Ann was telling me to let the horse do the work and keep him pointed down hill. I wish I could say that my skill as a rider got me through that section; but it wasn't skill at all. I just prayed - and made it.
When the canyon ride was completed, I finally took a breath and felt like kissing the horse.
Cristal and Abigail had made it to camp by this time. It was good having them there to share the experience with. Abigail loved the horses and playing in the dirt. She sat on Big Aus bare back and thought it was the greatest thing she'd ever done. She also did probably the most redneck thing she's ever done; she used a cooler as a swimming pool while Ann was watching her one day while we were out on horses - it was awesome!
Then, as if Ann couldn't impress me more, she took Abigail out on the horse during a round-up. We had to move a large herd of cows from one pasture to another. Ann tied Abigail around the front of her and she was off on the horse. I rode for a bit with Ann and Abi. Ann had to jump streams, climb hills, and identify sick calves with Abi tied to the front of her. Pele helped Ann move a sick calf into the sick pasture after one was identified.
Again, we were all exhausted from a long day on the horses moving cows. But Sam's big birthday party was pending that night. Cristal had made arrangements to have a cake and party at Cow Camp. With the full moon rising over the eastern horizon, Cristal exited the house with the cake and candles and called the kids over for a verse of 'Happy Birthday to you'. Just then, someone asked Cristal a question, and as she turned to answer, the cake failed to make the turn. Is slid off the platter, inverted in mid-air, and landed upside down on the concrete.
Cristal looked horrified. Then the horror turned to silly giggles as Sam, filled with excitement about his cake, ran around the corner and saw his birthday cake upside down splattered on the concrete. Jessica began singing 'happy birthday' and we all joined in with the giggles.
In true redneck fashion, the boys and Floyd began to eat the cake off the concrete. Then the dogs started eating the cake. It's a classic memory.
At one point during the week, the supplies ran low. We were forced to drive to town for supplies, to get a tire repaired, and to clean clothing that smelled awful. During this trip Cristal and Jessica took the boys swimming in the Salt River just west of HWY 89. Of course there was a bridge the boys could not resist jumping off; and then they convinced me to jump off the bridge...bad mistake for an old man trying to show off to his beautiful wife - a flip and face plant gave me a black eye for the rest of the trip.
At some point this adventure ended. However, we lost track of time and the days. We had no idea what day it was from one to the other. We just continued to see what the next day's work and adventure brought us.
With sick cows in the herd, coccidiosis going through the herd, there was more doctoring that needed to be done. Cows had to be roped and injected with medicine. Cristal and Jessica practiced their roping skills; at least Jessica threw the rope in the desired direction.
Then the boys thought they were mighty ropers too. They roped pretty much anything that didn't move in camp. Abigail helped them stack wheels to rope. They became proficient enough to run after a herd of cows later that night and rope a calf, unbeknownst to any of the adults until the next day.
When the sick cows were taken to the corral they were funneled to a holding cage so they could be given medicine. The kids loved the calf that needed treatment; I'm pretty sure the calf didn't like that red thing being stuck down its throat.
Floyd likes to do 'tours' of the area. One evening while the women folk were making dinner, Floyd told me, the boys, and dogs that we were going on a tour. We loaded in the truck and headed up the mountain. After about 8 miles on dirt road we pulled off to the side and Floyd showed us a gigantic huckleberry patch. We spent an hour picking wild huckleberries for Ann, Jessica, and Cristal. The boys ate as many as they kept; in fact, I think Luka put one huckleberry in the cup after the hour.
The huckleberries were eventually turned into cowboy crepes for breakfast. For being in the middle of the wilderness, it seemed we sure did eat well.
The cowboy adventures and fun never ended at Cow Camp. Every day brought a new adventure and the feeling that we were contributing to the work. Most every day ended with the canyon ride. The last evening at camp, the whole crew was proficient enough to ride the trail. The boys made it look easy, Cristal and Jessica looked like old pros, and I continued to pray.
As the adventure was winding down there was one last round up that needed to be done. Me, Sam and Mat stayed late the last day. Cristal, Jessica and the younger kids left earlier in the day. Cows needed to be brought in to the pasture and a storm was headed our way. We saddled the horses for one last round-up of the summer for us.
Well...not quite one last round-up for me. More work needed to be done and Luka needed a ride back up to Cow Camp a couple days after being home. I had time to burn at work, so took a few more days off work and drove up to camp with Luka for a couple more days of cowboying.
Those last few days were a whole new set of adventures. Canyon rides...of course. But also new canyon rides in country rich with elk. I witnessed Ann's style of discipline with Luka. And we all watched the sheep herders do ultrasounds on about 800 sheep and mark them pregnant or open.
I have never had an experience like I had at Cow Camp. My conversations with Cristal since then confirm her experience was similar to mine. I imagine the kids feel the same way. I've always seen life as a series experiences, and I've tried to squeeze as many as I can into this short existence I have. Some of the experiences are spiritual and become part of who I am as a person.
I'm certain I can't quantify 'spiritual'; but if I could, I know Cow Camp would be my number one. I am truly a better person because of my time spent in the Caribou Mountains with Floyd, Ann, the Skoruts, and loving family.
