Saddle Blankets

We've always called them saddle blankets. Some guys call them saddle pads. Regardless, they are the cushion between your saddle and the horse. The correct combo is important. It is also important to maintain them. 

This is my main pad. 3/4" thick felt. Maybe I should call it a saddle pad.

And call this one a blanket. I run the pad down and the blanket up top, usually. Sometimes I won't use the blanket at all. I've seen other guys ride with a blanket down and the pad up top. Personal preference, I guess. 

The one on the down side, which is my pad, should be cleaned every now and again. 

The two main points that it gets a lot of pressure, and consequently a lot of hair and grime, is the front, next to the withers. 

And the back, where the saddle tree ends. 

My cleaning tool of choice is a wire brush. 

Just get aggressive. Back and forth, side to side. You don't have to follow the grain. In fact, it probably works better if you don't. 

Some of the heavy haired up spots, you might just have to pull apart. 

Giddy up.

Muy bien. 

Good stuff. I've owned this saddle pad for probably fours years and have only cleaned it once. I don't ride a lot, so that sounds reasonable. When thinking about tack maintenance, it's good to put yourself in the horse's hooves. An old, grimed up saddle blanket doesn't sound too comfortable. Therefore, your horse would probably appreciate a pad cleaning every once in a while. The longer you wait, the harder it is to tend to. I've seen guys take a pressure washer to a saddle pad. Probably works fine. Me, I'm a wire brush guy. Easy to use and easy on the pad. Now we're all cleaned up and ready to ride. Ranch on. 

Pope St. Leo the Great

Pray for us!

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Temple

How's it going being a temple of God?

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Wyoming Wind

Last Sunday, Ian Welles hit me up to ride the following Saturday morning. Don't tempt me with a good time! I waited in joyful anticipation all week, and I was not disappointed.

The forecast for Saturday was wind, and they were right! The mission: move two different bunches of freshly weaned mother cows out to winter grazing. 

This time around, I just borrowed one of Ian's horses. Buddy was the brute assigned to me. 

Good guy. Friendly fellow. 

Before we rode out, BJ wanted to warm his steed up in the corral. If you think your horse might unleash, a good technique is to grab the back of your cantle, if you have a Cheyenne roll, and hang tough if need be. Not always stylish, but definitely effective. 

Our first chore was to move a few head out to meet up with the big bunch we were to push to pasture. 

Right outside the corrals lies Crazy Woman Creek. Flowing good for this time of year. 

Then we all met up and headed out. Today's posse: BJ, Ian, Colter, Austin, Coy, and Buddy and I.

The Welles Ranch was at the heart of the House Draw Fire last summer. Ian and crew fought hard to save the ranch, but about 100 miles of fence was destroyed. With a lot of hard work, they are back up and running. The new fences look real good. 

We probably gathered up 150 head or so and pushed them south of the home place. 

Cool views of the Bighorns out here. 

We all split off and convened at the first gate.

New Traditionalists. 

Cowboying takes all kinds. Colter ain't about to get cold. He also rides with a war bridle. Ranchy. 

Once through the gate, we pushed on. Wind to our back, thankfully. 

The last two miles was up against a fence. Easy. 

Through the gate they go. Round 1. 

So we fast trotted back to the other boys who were gathering up the next bunch. Wind to our face. Cold.

Stopping for a drink in the Crazy along the way. 

Ian and BJ had picked up the next batch.

Jumping in behind, we helped finish the drive.

Mission accomplished.

Good work, pal. 

Hot cup of coffee and a sandwich never tasted so good!

After living in Great Falls, Montana for a few years, I finally figured out why God made the wind. It's so you can appreciate a day when it doesn't blow. Wind will make a man out of you. Once forged, you are better suited to enjoy the beauty of a calm day. Life will do the same. Tested by fire and trials, we can appreciate and give thanks to God for times of peace and tranquility. We call this the school of hard knocks. Not always the cheapest education. But often the most valuable. That's ranching in the 307. 

Muddy Mess

Water, can't live with it, can't live without it. If it's not flowing properly, it's leaking where it shouldn't be. Gives a guy something to keep an eye on, I guess. So good and such a blessing. I'd happily fight a leak here or there rather no water at all. A full tank, regardless, is a happy sight.

All that being said, the riser of 1 1/4" has been leaking for a while. I've tried to tighten the hose clamps, with no success on stopping it. So interesting, there is no pressure and no restriction, yet it would rather fight its way around a fitting and hose clamps rather than spill out the 90! That's water for you. 

Not getting all the volume of water into the tank isn't a big deal. We have plenty coming in to keep the cows watered and the flow from freezing. However, the mess it's making around the tank is unacceptable. 

So we pulled the hose clamps.

Usually, when a clamp is cocked like this, it means that it is stripping out before tightening. 

Hose clamps do have their limits. They'll split on the bottom with too much torque and allow the driver above to spin out. 

While we were at it, we cut a few inches off the poly pipe to get a fresh start.

This time we added a third clamp, getting the water to finally go where it's supposed to. 

Jolly Rancher.

That's a beautiful flow of water. She'll stay running all winter. No sense settling for 90% coming in, though. Let's get it all! Gotta love water. Without it, ain't nobody ranchin'! 

Romans IX

 Our Lord is compassionate to all.

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Romans VIII

Let Scripture interpret Scripture. 

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Good Shepherd St. Charles

 Pray for us! 

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All Mixed Up

All I'm going to say is that somebody broke the cardinal ranching rule, if you open a gate, close it! We've all been there. But this gate left open caused some the neighbor's cows to get in on Jack's nice green regrowth. No problem, Chief to the rescue. 

I became aware of the situation yesterday afternoon. So with a free couple hours this afternoon, my Indian pony and I took off to right the situation. 

Probably eight head of purple tags were mixed in with our white tags. 

As soon as we set out, Hank showed up to get in on the action. Let's ride. 

Birds of a feather flock together. I wanted to get this deal straightened out before all the cows buddied up. With everybody still being new, the purple tags wanted to hang together. So we just started picking them out of the herd and they bunched up and headed west. They knew they were in the wrong pasture, so we just headed them for the trees they came from. 

I had all the help I could handle as we left the rest of the cows. 

Go home girls! Even though they knew where to go, they were hesitant. 

So they made a run for it. I felt like we were in an Indian relay race, as Chief and I galloped after them bareback. A lot smoother than a trot. 

One thing about cowboys, they don't quit. Once gathered back up, we headed for the trees once again.   

We had to get them to cross the canal. Best to make it their decision. It's all about pressure. Too much and they'll bolt. Not enough and they'll turn the wrong way. 

Just got them over the canal and headed through the gate, when my two equine companions decided to make a run for the salt block and messed the whole thing up!

All but one went through the gate. This is a worse scenario than if all of them didn't go through. Fortunately, she just paralleled the rest of the bunch from the other side of the fence. 

So we ran ahead and took down some fence crossing the canal. 

Then eased in from behind. Just enough pressure to let them all know we were there. 

Once we got to the end of the line, mom took the bait. 

And walked through our opening. 

Once we put the fence back up, we met the girls at the gate left open that they came through. 

Once opened and got behind, they walked right through. 

And stay out! 

Good work, pal.

Back to normal.

Alls well that ends well. I enjoy a good challenge. Sometimes I think the Lord throws them my way just for the fun of it! I'll take it. What fun would ranching be if you didn't have mix up every once in a while? We live and we learn. If there's a moral to this story at all, if you open a gate, close it! Ranch on.