Soon after the ewes lambed out on the Ranch, and the lambs grew to be about 3 weeks old, we docked and branded and then took small bands of 150 or so pair at a time to the foot hills.During the summer, we were permitted a total of 1200 adult sheep and their lambs on Forest Service lands. But during the latter part of May and into June, we’d drive the flock up to pasture in the foothills above the Ranch, taking the ewes and lambs up in the small bands as soon the lambs grew big enough to travel.
It was about a 6 mile trip up to the foothill pasture from the Ranch. And it was always on a Saturday when the drive took place. Funny, that’s the day when us kids (my brother, Melvin, and I) would be home from school and could take the sheep up... We did this on foot, driving the sheep slowly along for about 4-5 hours, followed later in the day by Dad, who would meet us up there in the pick up and bring us back down to the Ranch.
The first time I went up, the sheep herder went with us. That’s how we learned the way. But the sheep pretty much knew where to go in the foothills. The old ones would teach the new ones, and they would slowly move off in the right direction, urged on by the promise of greener grass. The only challenge here was keeping the little lambs moving along. They’d get tired and want to call it quits. We used to make rattles by taking a half gallon can with a handful of rocks inside, hammer the top together, drive a nail through to make hole, thread a piece of wire thru it, and had the perfect tool for tossing behind the sheep. That rattle sound would get them up and going.
As you can imagine, with the sheep spread out and grazing along the grassy hillsides, rattle snakes would get stirred up from time to time. One day, as we were driving the sheep along, there was this snake, laying there all coiled up shaking his rattle menacingly at us. Of course us kids just had to have those rattlers. Well, we found a couple rocks and then struck the snake on his head, then we stepped on his head to be safe and cut off our prized rattle.
By the way, did you know they used to actually sell canned rattle snake? Came in a small can and looked a lot like Vienna sausage. But food stuff… well, I’ll save all that for the next story. This one, we did not eat.
There was a sheep herder who stayed with the flock up on the foothills. Usually by the 10th of June, all of the range flock was in the foothills, which was BLM lands, and they would remain there until time to head to the high country. The high range on the Forest Service land was in Summitville, which was about a four day drive from that spring range.
The summer range permit allowed for the sheep to be turned out on the first of July. Most years I was unable to go because we were in the middle of haying. That kept me plenty busy. However when I was about 12 years old, a friend of Dad’s, and his son who was my age, came down from Denver to go with Dad on the sheep drive. You see, the friend had done that when he was a kid with Dad, and now he wanted his son to experience it as well. So that year, Dad let me off the hook from haying, and took me along on the sheep drive.
That first day the sheep were moved from the foothills, up to Rock Creek, which was about 7 miles, then another 3 or 4 miles to the counting corral – all on the first day. The counting corral was where the Forest Service Ranger would count the flock to be sure of our numbers.
On that morning of July 1, we rode our horses up from the Ranch and met the sheep as they were crossing Rock Creek and heading up to Dry Creek.
The camp and cooking equipment was being packed in with us on our 5 burros. Each burro carried a portion of the camp, and just followed along with us, or else we drove them along with the sheep. There were four sheep herders who would remain with the flock for the summer, who had only 2 riding horses, so they alternated walking and riding.
The burros would spend the summer with sheep in the high country as well. Dad would go up every 2 weeks to deliver resupplies and salt. He would drive up the road from Del Norte to Summitville, which went right thru the range. The sheep herders camped a mile or so off the road, but would meet up with Dad at a predetermined place every other week, leading the burros along to haul back their supplies that would get them through until the next time.
We camped that night outside the corrals in which the sheep were contained. Early the next morning, the Ranger showed up, counted the sheep, and off we went, starting up the trail to the high country with the flock of sheep before us
The second day we travelled only about 4 miles, but up an extremely steep grade. The trail went up and over Mount Baldy, a very rocky rough trail across the top of the mountain around the head of North Rock Creek and over to Blowout Pass. It was hard to move the sheep up that steep hill and across the rock slide. The widest place was maybe 8-10 feet wide. So you can imagine 1200 sheep plus their lambs, strung out for a mile or more up the steep mountain trail…
This is as far as Dad went to help. There way haying to be done, so the sheep were left in the care of the sheep herders who led the flock the rest of the way to the summer range.
From there we turned around, and rode back home in a day. Dad and his friend walked back down to the counting corral where they had the pick up truck and drove back to the Ranch. But Jimmy (the son) and I had to ride back to the ranch. Fine by me, but for poor Jimmy, who had probably only had a day or two experience horseback all his life up to this point, that 12 miles or so back down to the ranch was probably pretty long and more than a little uncomfortable. That poor kid was so tired and sore, he got off part way and walked the rest of the way back to the ranch.
I don’t know if it was much more comfortable in the truck – the road was no more than a track across the foot hills, and took Dad and his friend clear into Monte Vista, then back out the ranch. But still, they beat us home by quite some time.
Story by Floyd Getz
Posts
