Wranglers were the men responsible for caring for the horses and dudes during the daily trail rides that were a main feature of the dude ranches dad operated. They got the horses in from the pasture in the morning, groomed them, saddled and bridled them, assigned them to specific guests, helped the guests mount the horses and then guided the guests on the trail rides. Upon return from the ride, the wranglers would help guests disembark, unsaddle the horses, brush them out, oat them, do any doctoring necessary and turn them out to pasture. The routine took place every Monday through Friday. On most days we had morning rides and afternoon rides. When longer rides occurred there would only be one ride that day. These men invariably become entertainers, tellers of folk lore and celebrities as well as “keepers of the horses”. And lord help the employer who asked them to do anything but take care of the horses. They did not do chore work, they did not irrigate the pastures, buck bales, and they sure as hell did not do yard work. They worked with horses – period. For some of the older ones we had, it was even an imposition to ask them to ride a green horse. They were a distinct bred. I wondered at one point in my younger life if we should have referred to them as horse boys rather than cowboys. The boys part seemed to match my observations because they certainly weren’t always adult acting. The term “peter pan” now seems to come to my adult mind. Although as an older adult I can now certainly understand their reluctance to let go of the past. I don’t know if it was dad’s hiring process, but he always seemed to hire the “characters” and good ones at that. I never meet a wrangler I didn’t admire – cooks are a different matter! I only remember two cooks I admired both whom I adored, my mom and Hanna.
Lee Wentworth and Hugh Winsor were dad’s first hires at the pitchfork ranch and they turned out to be the most memorable. Both were local cowboys and natives of the Meetteese country. Lee weighted at least 275 lbs and Hugh was as slender as a split cedar fence post, the original yin and yen of the West. Lee was as outgoing as Hugh was introverted. Hugh had the dark black hair that Lee apparently lost in his early youth. Both were unbelievably good story tellers about the people and land of Wyoming, especially local Indian lore. The guests loved them and hung on their every word. The trail rides became lecture tours as we traversed the varied Wyoming landscape, visiting old abandoned Indian campsites, cow camps, abandoned gold mines, and elk hunting camps. As a youngster of 6 years of age I was especially spell bound by the Indian camps. The year was 1945 probably less than thirty years since the Indian sites had been abandoned. There were three sites within a day’s ride of the ranch. In two of the sites the lodge poles still stood as they were when the Natives pulled down the skins from the tepees and moved on to another camp. Lodge pole pine was plentiful so it was not necessary to pull them down and take them with the travelers. New poles would simply be cut. According to Lee and Hugh the Indians were outcasts of the Shoshone nation and were called the sheep hunters in recognition of their primary food source in the area they were allowed to roam. Research in my adult life has confirmed the story as told by Lee and Hugh, although, I have never been able to determine why the Indians were “cast out”. We were able to observe the fire pits in the center of the tepee rounds and occasionally found arrowheads and a rare bead or two. The tepee rounds were evidence of stones laid in a large circle, i.e. around the edges of the tepee to weight down the skins laid upon the tepee poles. One encampment only had evidence of the tepee rings and fire pits, the lodge poles long since rotted and barely visible as they awaited time’s fate. The largest camp site as I remember contained seven lodges. I can see them in my mind as though it were only yesterday. In my youth I am sure I could walk right to them. I know the general areas and directions from the ranch site now but am sure I would be unable to find them. If only someone had taken pictures. I have sifted though the pictures of the ranch experience but have never seen a picture of one of these sites. I see them only in my mind’s eye. One Indian site that I am positive that I could find is a cone shaped hill directly behind the ranch buildings that at its top had a fire pit. The hill’s height allowed the sending of smoke signals – at least that is what Lee and Hugh said. I do remember the fire pit and the hill’s prominence so I have no doubt the truth of the tale. I shall return some day.
Adding to Lee and Hugh’s status was their music ability. Lee played the mandolin and Hugh the Guitar. Both sang old lonesome cowboy songs. Lee was the tenor. Hugh was the bass. Interesting, in that you would have thought the opposite given body type. But, Lee was definitely a tenor and good one at that. The lodge front porch was the concert stage and the attendance was one hundred percent of the population of the ranch. In what I am sure was an act of control, the concert was completely at the discretion of Lee and Hugh – usually Lee. All it took was a twang on either the mandolin or guitar and the word was out. But once the word was out, everyone was there. Some concerts were longer than others. I still remember the mandolin solos of Lee Wentworth and his Burl Ives sounding voice. I thought he was Roy Rogers and the Suns of the Pioneers all rolled up into one. Come to think of it, he even looked like Burl Ives! I don’t remember much of Hugh’s playing ability or his voice. Lee was definitely the star of the show. I still love the sound of the mandolin.
Lee and Hugh only worked the one year for dad. The following years we had the ranch they both had permanent jobs and could not be persuaded to come to the ranch for one more year. I do seem to recall that Lee did a performance or two at dad’s request. I have not seen either of them since 1950 and have no idea what happen to them.
Van VanJornberg was our wrangler for the next couple of years we were at the pitchfork ranch. Van was older than Lee and Hugh and a much steadier influence on me as a youngster. I was expected to do chores around the horse barns and help with getting the guests ready for the daily rides. He was like an uncle, fun but serious – if that makes sense. He too had good stories, but his were of the Wyoming and the West in general as opposed to Lee and Hugh who knew more about our immediate surroundings. Unfortunately, he was not musically inclined. Our family kept in touch with Van and his wife until they passed away in the 1980’s. It was he who encouraged me to ride horses other than Blue.
Al Johnson was the wrangler of most note in our lives. Dad truly viewed Al as a brother. And, I truly considered him my uncle. Al will be the soul subject of another blog. I learned at lot from Al during my formative teen years. He was one of the most talented men I have ever known and certainly the most sensitive, a true artist's temperment.
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