Eat Hearty, Stay Warm

It's looking a little frosty here on Thanksgiving morning, but we've got plenty of food and family to keep us warm. And this year I'm over at my group blog, waxing as poetic as I 'm able about on being thankful for the Simple Things. 

And trees. We are very thankful our new pines are coming on strong because trees are a precious commodity out here on the windblown plain. Except for the one my husband planted where it will block my view of Chief Mountain someday. That tree is not long for this world, or at least my back yard, because of all things I am thankful for, watching the sun rise and set over the Rocky Mountains is very close to the top of the list. 

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Whiskey Gap

We live near the headwaters of the north fork of the Milk River, which starts in Montana, makes a loop up through southern Alberta, then drops south again to dump into the Missouri River out near Fort Peck Reservoir. To say that the water rights on the Milk are a bit of an international hot button would be a vast understatement. It's northward path out of the U.S. is marked by a long, high ridge which makes up most of the Canadian scenery that's visible from our ranch. The ridge runs unbroken for miles, except for small, rugged draws and what is known as Whiskey Gap.

The gap gets its name from the whiskey that flowed through it and across the border during Prohibition. This was not just north to south as some might assume. Alberta had a prohibition period from 1914-1916, during which the whiskey rumbled north via wagons that traveled through the Gap. Even today the towns of southern Alberta directly north of us are all dry due to the influence of a large Mormon population. The nearest bar from our border crossing at Del Bonita is nearly an hour north. 

Whiskey Gap was also the name of a thriving community on the north side of the Gap. These days it has been reduced to a single, one room church alongside the highway to Cardston. Back in 1976 it briefly came back to life as the setting for the film Days of Heaven.

Never heard of it? That's probably because it was a bomb. Sure had pretty scenery, though. 

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So You Think You Can Run...

...Let me show you some real wheels, Dog.

 

 Max is enjoying the aftermath of winter storm Brutus. And yes, we do feel much more special now that our storms get names like everybody else.

360 Degrees of Awesome

I love going up to Glacier National Park in the fall, after all the hotels and restaurants are closed and the crowds are gone. It's such a different feel when the place is deserted. Last weekend we drove to the Many Glacier Hotel and it was spectacular as always, even though the day was blustery.



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Weanin' Time

All summer long I told myself things would slow down after Labor Day. Then we had a couple of rodeos up by Calgary and a writers conference at Fairmont Hot Springs, a work seminar in Bozeman plus helping my great uncle move to a nursing home in Helena, then back north to the Canadian Senior Pro Rodeo finals for four days. All of the sudden it's November. No wonder I never get anything done.

Like the rest of the world, our cattle refuse to sit back and wait for me to catch up. This weekend it was time to wean the first of our calves. We have purebred Angus cows that we run mostly separate from our commercial cattle. We breed them via artificial insemination and keep the best of the bull calves as herd sires. We can afford to introduce extremely good genetics this way because buying semen is much cheaper than buying bulls. We purchase frozen semen from high quality bulls via companies like Universal Semen Sales. Go ahead, leaf through their online catalog. Better yet, check out their clothing line. Christmas is just around the corner, you know, and who wouldn't want to find a pair of Sammy Semen pajamas in their stocking?

The purebreds are the first to calve on our ranch, giving the baby bulls as much time as possible to grow up before they have to go to work as yearlings. Therefore, they are also the first to be weaned. They spend the summer in our far north pasture, the one that butts right up against Canada. Considering it's an international border and all, you'd think the fence would be straighter.

There is a boundary marker along our fence, and as you can see in this picture, where the terrain allows there is also a double-fenced No Man's Land. All four sides of the marker are inscribed. The name and date of the treaty that established the border are on the east and west sides. This is looking east. And just in case you get turned around, the south side of the marker says "United States". 

And yes, the north side of the marker says "Canada".

Max and I decided to be rebels and venture a tiny bit into No Man's Land. Say hello to Tequila (Tick for short since most of the time she's so fat she's just a swollen belly with legs sticking out). Next spring she'll get to test her mettle as my rodeo horse, in yet another attempt to allow Em the Magnificent to enjoy her retirement. 

Then we had to get back to work, trailing the cows into the corral for sorting and weaning. Max and my dad were in charge of watching the gate. 

Definitely weaning time when you can barely tell the babies from the mamas!

The coolest part of having a good dog? Sending her out and around the cows that get into the bog. Our horses are grateful.

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