Alpenglow Magzine | Cattle Drives

Head 'em up!

Story and Photo by Chris Tracy

A giant critter named Steeritis menacingly confronts a steer in a ravine just ahead of me as the head cowboy cautions us to slow down and steer clear.

Steeritis is the most beautiful bovine I have ever laid eyes on. He's a Texas Longhorn – the “pet” of a local rodeo rider and part of a herd of about 150 cows and calves we are moving across 8,000 acres of leased private and public Colorado territory.

This is the Rusty Spurr Ranch, and I'm atop Badger – a big, calm, sorrel gelding — and a perfect mount for my camera and me. By the time I arrived at Cowboy Camp today, wranglers had already rounded up our horses from their evening pasture, and brushed, fed and saddled them according to the size and skill of each rider.

Today's cattle drive hosts a couple from Berthoud, Colorado, a family from Texas, and a boy from England. After a brief orientation, the head cowboy and owner of this operation, Han Smith, leads us out to find the herd of Texas Longhorns, Angus heifers, and a mix of breeding cattle used to produce rodeo bulls. “One in our herd was in the Colorado High School Finals which is a proving ground for the PRCA (Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association) and PBR (Professional Bull Riders). A few of the cows have mothered proven PBR bulls,” Han explains.

The herd is owned by Middle Park Rancher Grady Culbreath, who leases part of the property to the Rusty Spurr. Han in turn has built a business around caring for the herd while giving people from all over the world a taste of the true West.

We find them bedded down near a pond. We're all riding abreast and as the morning progresses and the sun dissipates the cool morning mist, Han and his wrangler, Connie, teach us how to round 'em up. We call. We whistle. We slap our thighs. One horse instinctively nips a calf to get him going.

Han takes the younger kids and lopes out to some stragglers, rides around them, and turns them back. We're moving the herd across the ranch to fresh pasture. This daily moving is as good for the land as it is for the cows, notes Han.

This is a dream come true for all of us. The family from Texas comes three times a year. Their teenage daughter, Annie, beams as she confidently manages her horse and skillfully works the cows.

Twelve-year-old Theodore from England rides alongside me and tells how his father narrowly escaped the terrorist attack on the transportation system just three weeks ago. I think how this ride must be good therapy right now.

The couple from Berthoud rides side by side holding hands.

There are riders of all abilities — beginning to seasoned. The horses are well behaved, gentle and responsive. No nose-to- tail riding here. Han tells everyone they can manage their horse on their own, but not to spread out too far. Both wranglers keep a watchful eye on the group.

The horses are strong and healthy looking. “We won't saddle any more than we're going to use,” notes Han. “I just won't do that. Those horses work hard for us. We take good care of them.”

Han is easy going, and you would never imagine he was raised in New Hampshire and majored in zoology.

He's a cowboy through and through — from his chaps to his hat to his “Yes Ma'am” manner. You get the feeling he was born for this. Not only to cowboy, but also to engage people into the life he loves. This is not just a job or a business to him.

I pat Badger's neck and run my fingers through his mane. The sun is warm on my shoulders and I am absolutely content. I'm thinking what makes this ride different is a sense of purpose. For this short time, we are really working cowhands. Horse and rider are a team. We're getting a taste of what it was like on the great cattle drives of yesteryear. Atop his stunning Morgan gelding, Navajo, Han points to bear claw scars on an aspen tree and talks about the wildlife in the area.

We leave the cattle to graze and head back to camp where we'll enjoy a homemade meal.

Rain is softly falling and settling the dust around the corral. Though a little saddle sore after the four-hour ride, I'm sorry it's over. I can't imagine anything more fun than what I've just experienced. I want to work here. Be a wrangler. Drive cattle every day for the rest of my life.

There's just something about the wide open spaces, the sage and grass covered ranch land, the distant vistas, the smell of leather, the friendship of a horse, the call of the cattle…

It gets in the soul and it doesn't let go.