We extended our stay in Idaho a couple extra days so that we wouldn’t miss their annual cattle drive where they take their cow and calf herd fifteen miles up into the mountains. It is an all-day event, starting early and ending late, and involves a lot of horseback riding and beautiful scenery. We didn’t want to miss it! All week my sister Karmen and I had been getting horses ready. Karmen put shoes on four horses so that their feet wouldn’t wear out on the rocky trail. I rode Donegal to give her a little refresher so she would be well-adjusted to being ridden again, as my dad was going to ride her on the drive and he is seventy years old and still recuperating from his accident that broke ribs last November. Karmen planned to ride her young mule Garnet, and I was going to take Stormy, the young mare I’d been riding all week.
Mom’s plans were all about lunch. She made roast beef the day before and had done it up in sandwiches with lettuce and homemade buns. She made peanut butter cookies and I made chocolate chip cookies, and we had pop and chips and everything packed up to go. She was driving the pickup pulling the big gooseneck trailer with extra horses in it for us to change out as ours grew tired or the kids wanted to ride for awhile. We started out at seven o’clock, which was too early for our kids, so Cowboy Dad stayed with them and let them sleep in. He planned to meet up with us later on the trail, and would leave the car along the trail so that he and the kids could enjoy the last half of the cattle drive.
So it was a small bunch of us that started out to gather the herd from their irrigated pasture. Dad was riding Donegal, I was on Sage, and Karmen rode her molly mule Garnet. Their friend Chuck Babb was there on his dark brown gelding, Beatle. And their neighbors, Brian and Nicole, had brought two big beautiful Morgan horses to join our team of riders. We gathered the cattle, opened a gate in the far corner, and pushed them out into the sage brush of the BLM ground. The cows are funny when they first get in the sage, they all wanted to kneel down and rub their necks in it, and some were even eating it. I don’t know if it’s the smell or taste they like, or if it just feels good on their necks and bellies to rub in it!
Sage and Donegal were hyper and prancing, and Dad and I were riding together to try to keep them from acting up too much. Once out in the sage, it was a lot of hard work, keeping the cattle moving and not letting them stray to the east, where they could see other cattle out grazing in the sagebrush. Then we got to a road and it was easier, following along and keeping the little calves following their mothers. We cut north through the sage, up to Pass Creek road, and from there on we followed a winding, rocky road up through a notch in the mountains.
After a few miles, I could tell that Sage’s energy was depleted and she was walking very slowly and needed to be urged more than usual to go after a turned-back calf. She did not have shoes on, so I knew her feet would not hold up for the entire drive. When we got the cattle to the main road at the mouth of the canyon, I put Sage in the horse trailer and got Karmen’s gelding Challis out to ride. He had shoes on the front, so I knew he would be solid to use on the rocky trail. I rode Challis up until the trail opened up into a beautiful green valley and we let the herd stop to rest while Mom served lunch.
We all ate gathered around the horse trailer, letting the horses graze or stand tied, and giving them a little break as well. I was eager to get Stormy out of the trailer, and now that we were through the worst of the rocks, her unshod feet would be fine the rest of the way. We still had about seven miles to go, but I figured she would be fresh and the work would not be too difficult for a green broke horse to handle. This would be Stormy’s fifth ride ever, but I thought she was ready for it.
So after lunch I put Challis back in the trailer and threw my saddle on Stormy. She was happy to join the working horses, and was calmly munching grass as I saddled her. Chuck Babb was holding her for me while I saddled, and he remarked, “Here’s another mare that should have been a gelding. She’s a nice horse!” And I agreed, because while Stormy has only a few rides on her, she handles beautifully from the ground and just acts broke. I told Chuck that I just loved her temperament, and that she is so laid back. “Now, watch–,” I joked, “She’ll probably throw me.”
I got on and we started off, Dad riding his mare Donegal just ahead of us and Stormy following along quietly. We started the herd back up, and the little calves were reluctant to go; many of them had laid down in the grass for a lunch-time nap. But Stormy was working nicely, crossing back and forth behind the herd like a good horse should. She would stare at big rocks once in awhile, so I stayed alert, thinking that she had way more energy than the two horses I had ridden previously.
Dad and I were riding along down in a groove beside a fence, and Stormy was almost beside Donegal. My sister Karmen was riding her mule Garnet up on the ridge above us, and the mule was trekking through loose rocks and shale. I thought, “Watch it,” as some rocks came bouncing down towards us, and that was the last thing I knew. Stormy’s head disappeared somewhere towards her belly button, and I was launched about eight feet up as she pitched the kind of fit I never saw coming. I saw ground down below, but suddenly it was like someone kicked me in the back, as I landed on my back amongst the rocks and sagebrush. I remember sitting up and seeing Stormy bucking up the rocky ridge, still leaping huge hard bucks. Then I laid back down because I hurt too badly.
Dad was beside me in an instant, Mom was out of the pickup and running down the rocky ridge almost crying. Karmen was going after my horse and catching her up, and Nicole got off to assess the damage as well. I felt absolutely terrible. I knew nothing was broken, but I had fallen in exactly the same way I did a month ago when Penny bucked me off on the gravel road. I told them I was okay, but I was hurt too badly to even sit up. They were all talking about getting me to a hospital, Karmen was putting Stormy back in the trailer, and I was just trying to breathe.
I don’t think I had the wind knocked out of me, but for some strange reason I could not see right. I could see shadows and shapes, but no color. It was like the sun was shining very brightly, and bleached the color out of everything. I was also hearing my parents’ voices like they were very far away. They wanted me to get to the pickup if I was able, so with Nicole on one side and my dad on the other, I stood up. I think I made it a step or two, and then fainted, because I heard them saying, “She’s out, she’s completely out.” So I was only unconscious for a second or two, but my head was down on my shoulder when I came to.
So I drank some water and tried to breathe…they thought I had a concussion, but I was certain that I had not hit my head. Only my lower back and pelvic bones hurt, and I remembered the pain was in the exact same spot as the last time I’d gotten bucked off. So I was pretty sure I’d be fine after a week’s recovery, nothing but bruises. We climbed the rocky ridge to the road and I got into the pickup and laid down on the back seat. Mom had some cushions to put under my back, and she gave me a tylenol and I felt better after about ten minutes.
I felt terrible about Stormy, though. I thought that I should have tied her to the trailer and let her walk up. I thought I should have run her in circles while everyone else was eating lunch, and put a little sweat on her before I got into the saddle. I thought I should have worked her harder in the round pen on those three rides I’d put on her at the beginning of the week. And I should not have been fooled by her calm demeanor. She is just a colt, after all.
The riders were having a hard time getting the herd to go, as the cows were getting hungry and trying to stop and graze grass off the trail all the time. The calves just wanted to lay down, they were so tired. So my mom kept getting out to shoo calves up out of the ditch and help the riders whenever she could. So I got into the driver’s seat and drove the pickup so she could get out and ride. She rode Chicory, the buckskin mare. Soon after that, my husband and kids caught up to us, so we unloaded more horses out of the trailer for them to ride. The kids’ horses behaved so well, and they got to ride for several hours, so that was one really great part of our vacation that they will have good memories of.
Little Jack rode in the pickup with me, but he was just begging to get out and help with the cattle. So my husband carried him for much of the drive, walking on foot, since he had given his horse to our five year old son to ride. I think he walked for six or seven miles that day, and said to my parents, “I’ll never make it as a cowboy, because I’m too content to work on foot.” He did ride Challis for part of the drive, and got along great. Jack got to ride old Red for awhile as we let the cattle rest…
I have a few regrets about not getting to ride Stormy anymore, and my sister said they are going to sell her. I think she will make a great horse, but needs some cowboy to take her for a month or so and get the kinks worked out so she doesn’t want to buck. We have had a lot of good horses started exactly the same way, and I never blame a colt for bucking a little. But I’m not so young anymore, and I don’t like falling off. My folks and sister will never ride her, so I’m helping them advertise her for sale, and hope to help find Stormy a good home where she’ll learn to be a good riding horse.
The ride was beautiful, the mountain scenery was superb, and we’re really glad we got to take part in it. Here are more photos from the Pass Creek Drive of 2014…this is Mom riding Chicory and my son Charles riding Challis:
Karmen riding her molly mule Garnet:
Dad riding the three year old buckskin filly, Donegal:
And my daughter, husband, and sister working at the back of the cattle drive:
This is how much of the drive progressed, with Madie riding Red, Dad carrying Jack, and Charles riding Challis. I thought the kids did really well for not having ridden very much recently, and their horses were just perfect for them. 
It was a long day, and at the end of the drive was a grassy valley and creek for the cattle to drink from. They grazed and rested, Mom built a small campfire and roasted hot dogs and made smores over the open fire. The kids really enjoyed it, and it’s definitely an experience we’ll keep fond memories of.
