Hey it is cold in Min-nee-so-ta!!
The actural temperature right now is -25 below zero, so we went out to see if we could make snow with boiling hot water. And it works!! We have supplied video! Enjoy!
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Wild Horse Roundup 2003
This was an article that I wrote for our company newsletter back in 2003. At the time there were 600 readers, so that kinda like being published in a magazine. Or at least I like to pretend that it is like being published!
Roundups events like this don't happen everyday anymore so I thought I would share! It was a wonderful blessing to be apart of this history!
Hep Pony….. Hep Pony….. That is what we use to call our ponies in from the pasture at my father’s ranch in South Dakota. But what do you use to call in wild ponies on the Lower Brule Indian Reservation near Chamberlain, South Dakota? Nothing can bring them in except for a cowboy with a good horse and lots of determination and that doesn’t always work, as we found out. On June 28th the Lord blessed me, for I had the pleasure of seeing that wild band running with extreme grace and speed on land that can kill you if you don’t respect it. All four seasons hold dangers out there: mud, bog, driving rain, and blizzards. But this is their home. Now let me clarify something: When I say “ponies,” I am not talking about the Shetland pony you rode at the State Fair walking around in a circle. If a cowboy has a true friendship with his horse, he lovingly calls him or her “pony!”
Let me give you some background on this wild bunch. It all started in the 1950’s when a man by the name of Clarence Thompson, a Lower Brule Sioux Indian, turned out four Quarter Horse mares and one Arabian stud onto 10,000 acres of land on the Lower Brule. Throughout the years he kept adding new blood to the band. In the 1960’s he needed to start managing the herd, so the Wild Horse Round-up was born. With the quick start of the Quarter Horse blood and the endurance of the Arabian blood, these horses have speed that can last for what seems like an eternity. Still, every year Clarence would gather his cowboys with the best ponies to bring in the bunch. My father was fortunate enough to be best “pards” with Clarence’s nephew Larry Thompson. I can remember as a small child watching them running into the round corral. These corrals seemed monstrous; the logs were seven or eight high, with a snubbing post in the center. This is where all of the business was handled. Horses were selected, roped, and hopefully “snubbed” quickly to bring him under control. After the determined amount of ponies were handled and sold, the rest of the band were sent back to the open range.
In 1972 my father bought one for $72.50. This pony turned out to be the best horse we ever owned. Bruce was his name and we had him for 22 years. Dad was offered $15,000.00 one time, and just laughed, although that would have been quite the return on the investment! Bruce was not for sale, and he died of old age on my dad’s ranch. We brought several other horses home from that wild bunch, and my mom got wise to dad’s game. He was forbidden to take a horse trailer with him to the roundup; there were plenty of other horses to ride. But we had a blue van; yep, you guessed it he brought one home in the van!! Lonesome was his name and he was only a week old. Chamberlain is a two- and half-hour drive from Rapid City and most colts aren’t potty trained. Every time Lonesome lifted his tail Dad would hold it down until he could get the van pulled over and get him outside. He even stopped at the reststop at Wasta, SD, to walk him. He was quite the popular fella!
That was the last round up they had until June 28, 2003. I hadn’t been to the Lower Brule in 30 years. Many things have changed, but this time I would get to be a part of this family tradition. The Wild Horse Bunch was now on only 5000 acres and Clarence was in the nursing home with Alzheimer’s. Through several turns of events, the horses needed to come off the land. So Clarence’s kids called the cowboys all together to help with the round-up. This time the process was different, more hi-tech. We had cowboys and good ponies, but we also had ATVs and walkie-talkies. A wild horse is a very worthy adversary, especially when you are on his turf, so you need every advantage you can get. They know every little hiding place, where to get water, and how to escape the prairie heat, not to mention how to lose a cowboy!
We had a meeting of the minds Saturday morning trying to strategize our plan. Two groups rode out, one from the south and one from the east at Clarence’s place, with our game plan. But game plans and wild horses don’t mix! All you need is one person in the wrong place at the wrong time and the whole shootin’ match is off. The ATVs located the horses and started bringing them through as we planned. We had horses and cowboys stationed throughout the pasture to make sure the horses didn’t sneak back. I am sure by now you are rooting for the horses, but it is an awesome rush to see the lead stud or mare running over the prairie full tilt. I have never seen faster horses in my life. Bruce was extremely fast and there are stories and pictures to prove that, but I think these horses were even faster than Bruce.
I was holding the southern end of the pasture with three other cowboy hands. We were up on a bluff and had a view of the whole prairie floor. I watched colts outrun seasoned cowboys and their mounts. And when I had to turn seven head of horses off of that bluff with my bullwhip, they turned on a dime. Their agility was awesome! Didn’t even slow down. These horses were born to run. Down on the prairie floor things were going pretty good, almost to the area were we felt we would have control, and then out of the blue they turn and they’re gone like a shot. There was a rider that couldn’t see them, but they saw him. The riders that were pushing them couldn’t keep up; they disappeared in the cedars. Now the whole process started over again. During this retreat the bunch had split. We did find about 35 to 40 head, got them into the corrals. A colt had been separated from its momma and was running around franticly. My Dad found her and brought her into the corrals. She even got a ride on the ATV Mule, but that didn’t last long. She was halter broke by the time she made it to Clarence’s. When Dad got to the corral he walked the colt by the pens to see if the mother would claim her. The colt nickered and her momma came running up to the fence, momma and baby reunited. That is a great feeling when something like that happens.
We hunted all day Sunday looking for the second band. We only found six horses and we were not able to bring those in. They had jumped the fence and were in another large pasture. I did have to cheer for the horses, for their desire to be free and their grace, but life is ever changing; and so for the wild horse. I look at it like catch and release; they are out there for another good run on another good day!
Some wild ponies at Clarence’s Corrals
The corral with the “snubbin” post
Let me give you some background on this wild bunch. It all started in the 1950’s when a man by the name of Clarence Thompson, a Lower Brule Sioux Indian, turned out four Quarter Horse mares and one Arabian stud onto 10,000 acres of land on the Lower Brule. Throughout the years he kept adding new blood to the band. In the 1960’s he needed to start managing the herd, so the Wild Horse Round-up was born. With the quick start of the Quarter Horse blood and the endurance of the Arabian blood, these horses have speed that can last for what seems like an eternity. Still, every year Clarence would gather his cowboys with the best ponies to bring in the bunch. My father was fortunate enough to be best “pards” with Clarence’s nephew Larry Thompson. I can remember as a small child watching them running into the round corral. These corrals seemed monstrous; the logs were seven or eight high, with a snubbing post in the center. This is where all of the business was handled. Horses were selected, roped, and hopefully “snubbed” quickly to bring him under control. After the determined amount of ponies were handled and sold, the rest of the band were sent back to the open range.
In 1972 my father bought one for $72.50. This pony turned out to be the best horse we ever owned. Bruce was his name and we had him for 22 years. Dad was offered $15,000.00 one time, and just laughed, although that would have been quite the return on the investment! Bruce was not for sale, and he died of old age on my dad’s ranch. We brought several other horses home from that wild bunch, and my mom got wise to dad’s game. He was forbidden to take a horse trailer with him to the roundup; there were plenty of other horses to ride. But we had a blue van; yep, you guessed it he brought one home in the van!! Lonesome was his name and he was only a week old. Chamberlain is a two- and half-hour drive from Rapid City and most colts aren’t potty trained. Every time Lonesome lifted his tail Dad would hold it down until he could get the van pulled over and get him outside. He even stopped at the reststop at Wasta, SD, to walk him. He was quite the popular fella!
That was the last round up they had until June 28, 2003. I hadn’t been to the Lower Brule in 30 years. Many things have changed, but this time I would get to be a part of this family tradition. The Wild Horse Bunch was now on only 5000 acres and Clarence was in the nursing home with Alzheimer’s. Through several turns of events, the horses needed to come off the land. So Clarence’s kids called the cowboys all together to help with the round-up. This time the process was different, more hi-tech. We had cowboys and good ponies, but we also had ATVs and walkie-talkies. A wild horse is a very worthy adversary, especially when you are on his turf, so you need every advantage you can get. They know every little hiding place, where to get water, and how to escape the prairie heat, not to mention how to lose a cowboy!
We had a meeting of the minds Saturday morning trying to strategize our plan. Two groups rode out, one from the south and one from the east at Clarence’s place, with our game plan. But game plans and wild horses don’t mix! All you need is one person in the wrong place at the wrong time and the whole shootin’ match is off. The ATVs located the horses and started bringing them through as we planned. We had horses and cowboys stationed throughout the pasture to make sure the horses didn’t sneak back. I am sure by now you are rooting for the horses, but it is an awesome rush to see the lead stud or mare running over the prairie full tilt. I have never seen faster horses in my life. Bruce was extremely fast and there are stories and pictures to prove that, but I think these horses were even faster than Bruce.
I was holding the southern end of the pasture with three other cowboy hands. We were up on a bluff and had a view of the whole prairie floor. I watched colts outrun seasoned cowboys and their mounts. And when I had to turn seven head of horses off of that bluff with my bullwhip, they turned on a dime. Their agility was awesome! Didn’t even slow down. These horses were born to run. Down on the prairie floor things were going pretty good, almost to the area were we felt we would have control, and then out of the blue they turn and they’re gone like a shot. There was a rider that couldn’t see them, but they saw him. The riders that were pushing them couldn’t keep up; they disappeared in the cedars. Now the whole process started over again. During this retreat the bunch had split. We did find about 35 to 40 head, got them into the corrals. A colt had been separated from its momma and was running around franticly. My Dad found her and brought her into the corrals. She even got a ride on the ATV Mule, but that didn’t last long. She was halter broke by the time she made it to Clarence’s. When Dad got to the corral he walked the colt by the pens to see if the mother would claim her. The colt nickered and her momma came running up to the fence, momma and baby reunited. That is a great feeling when something like that happens.
We hunted all day Sunday looking for the second band. We only found six horses and we were not able to bring those in. They had jumped the fence and were in another large pasture. I did have to cheer for the horses, for their desire to be free and their grace, but life is ever changing; and so for the wild horse. I look at it like catch and release; they are out there for another good run on another good day!
Some wild ponies at Clarence’s Corrals
The corral with the “snubbin” post
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Ice Fishing on a Sunday
Well we had a heat wave today! 18 degrees above zero, weehoo! So let's hit the ice! The lakes are at about 18" thick and much to my parents dismay, we drive out on the ice. We have a little portable fish house that can be set up in a jiffy and makes a great warming house when it gets too cold checking tip-ups out on the ice.
Quite of few of the wrestling family were there, Big Dan, Howie, Gary, John Boy and ice fishing zen master Rick, plus all of the associated boys. I was the one taking pictures and oh yeah, I out fished them!
Zen Master shows young grasshopper how to use smelt on Tip-ups.
Bo and Mirror joined us for the day. Pannie, (Mirror's nickname) had a blast running around checking on all of the boys as they were fishing. She was the official greeter when additional fishermen would arrive at our little community. Bo had a blast following all of the trials that any little woodland animal would have left.
Levi got the first tip-up with this little guy (Northern) just short of they call a "snot rocket." A term of endearment by the local fishermen!
The beauty of a fish house; gives you wonderful clarity where as out in the open you have the black hole! I could see my Euro Larvae 10 feet down in da hole in the fish house. I just a few minutes earlier I had pulled a pumpkin seed sunny out of the ice.
I learned about using tip-ups from Levi today. You have to hook a shiner in the back just under the spinal column and then drop it down two arm lengths, put down the mat, click the flag and wait for a hit. When the Northern hits it the reel with spine and releases the flag. Then you go running to set the hook.
Oh yeah, I have to prove I caught fish!
So when are you coming Ice Fishing??
Quite of few of the wrestling family were there, Big Dan, Howie, Gary, John Boy and ice fishing zen master Rick, plus all of the associated boys. I was the one taking pictures and oh yeah, I out fished them!
Zen Master shows young grasshopper how to use smelt on Tip-ups.
Bo and Mirror joined us for the day. Pannie, (Mirror's nickname) had a blast running around checking on all of the boys as they were fishing. She was the official greeter when additional fishermen would arrive at our little community. Bo had a blast following all of the trials that any little woodland animal would have left.
Levi got the first tip-up with this little guy (Northern) just short of they call a "snot rocket." A term of endearment by the local fishermen!
The beauty of a fish house; gives you wonderful clarity where as out in the open you have the black hole! I could see my Euro Larvae 10 feet down in da hole in the fish house. I just a few minutes earlier I had pulled a pumpkin seed sunny out of the ice.
I learned about using tip-ups from Levi today. You have to hook a shiner in the back just under the spinal column and then drop it down two arm lengths, put down the mat, click the flag and wait for a hit. When the Northern hits it the reel with spine and releases the flag. Then you go running to set the hook.
Oh yeah, I have to prove I caught fish!
So when are you coming Ice Fishing??
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Ice Fishin' it's what we do in Min-ne-sooo-ta
Goin' up Nort! Where da ice is tick and the fish jump in da boat....aaah, if dere weren't ice!!!
The boys play cards and fish all night, swap stories and make memories. I think that is what the men are doing as well. Both trailer and fish house need to have a methane gas monitors, because if there were an open flame they might blow a hole in the ice!!
Getting ready to head out to the fish houses!
Packed to the gills!
Little Levi in his "nest!"
Yes, this is the frozen tundra, 2.5 miles out on Lake of the Woods in Northern Minnesota.
Rick, Pat and John, you made the blog!
All made it home with wonderful fish to put in the pot!
It has now become a tradition, roughed Minnesota men spending manly time with their boys up Nort, surviving out on the Lake of the Woods. Well, not quite. The boys hang out on the ice in a snug little ice house and and the dads head to shore to Terra fir ma to the snug condo (doublewide).
I know, I know it looks like they left them in the frozen tundra! But the boys wanted it that way, really!
The boys play cards and fish all night, swap stories and make memories. I think that is what the men are doing as well. Both trailer and fish house need to have a methane gas monitors, because if there were an open flame they might blow a hole in the ice!!
Getting ready to head out to the fish houses!
Packed to the gills!
Little Levi in his "nest!"
Yes, this is the frozen tundra, 2.5 miles out on Lake of the Woods in Northern Minnesota.
Rick, Pat and John, you made the blog!
All made it home with wonderful fish to put in the pot!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
