Looking Back At Montana

There was not a wrinkle in my face, nor crow's feet around my eyes and not a single grey hair to be found.  That day and time is past, but the memories remain, fresh and lively as the days they were lived.

Looking younger than I remember being. I still have the Stetson, but it is in sorry shape.  Yep, those are hiking boots, I hate cowboy boots and only wear them when I ride.

The ranch headquarters sat in a bowl surrounded by low hills, green and smooth, split by rock outcrops that buzzed with rattlesnakes on sunny days.  The red earth turned purple after days of rain in the high desert, and although the soil is thin, there is enough mud to pull the boots from a cowboy's foot and a shoe or two from a horse's hooves.

In the nearby distance, a mountaintop in the Pryor Mountains wore a shroud of newly fallen snow on July 4th.  I wrapped my cold hands around a marbled tin cup of hot coffee for its warmth and drew deeply on a first cigarette.  And I watched frothy water splash down from the hills in torrents, music to sleep by and awaken to.  From splintered steps in need of paint I watched horses, bays, sorrels and a palomino, graze in the yard, grass sticking to dew wet noses.

Some of the ranch horses and some of the mud.

Prayers before breakfast whether or not you wanted or believed in them.  That's just the way it was.  There was much quiet talk and more hot coffee and the Englishman who had never before had maple syrup and the arched eyebrows as he licked his plate clean - literally.

My jingle-horse mornings at a trot that I could never post or ride very well.  Still there was nowhere else I wanted to be.  Twenty or thirty horses pound into an old corral where the tack room, worn leather, and their capture waited in the whisper of a braided loop around the neck.

Selected and ready to work.  I love this picture.

To the day's work of sorting, driving parts of the herd and watching the mud and green feces-covered backsides of hundreds of Black Angus.  A surly bull, weighing close to a ton, is peeled from a fence line and gingerly encouraged to follow the herd with a rhythmic slapping of a coiled rope against my knee.  The bellowing of cows separated from their babies by thin strands of barbed wire, calling them to join up on the other side, and a bull in a bush that drove a top hand to distraction.

Spring calves roped and their brands rolled on, one after another after another.  Care must be taken not to burn through the hide.  The perfect brand looks a bit like well cooked bacon. I can still see the hair smoldering and the acrid scent lingers near the back of my throat,  Young bulls are castrated and turned out none the worse for wear,  Some stagger and shake the fear and shock from their heads and trot off to their mothers.  And for the hearty appetite there are mountain oysters cooked over the branding iron fire.  I never had the stomach for them.

A hail storm, the day's last act of defiance, rolls down out of the hills and overtakes the horses just turned out for the night.  They run for the willows along the creek, pushing their heads into the green cover.  None are injured badly, a few knots here and there, but none have to be put down as sometimes must be.

More hot coffee, quiet talk, glasses of iced tea, more prayers and a bitter, tough steak from the grill.  I remember it all so well.

My wife, Carol, reapplies the brand.

Copyright, August 17, 2014 by Loren R. Schumacher

All photos, Copyright, August 17, 2014 by Carol A. Lang

Dan James Clinic

Beyond his Australian accent, killer smile, and sly humor, you'll find Dan James, the horseman.
The horseman, Dan James, succeeds by relentless attention to detail and he tries to instill that focus into those who attend his clinics.  Dan is one half of Double Dan Horsemanship, he resides in Lexington, Kentucky, while his friend and partner, Dan Steers, holds down the fort in Australia.

James' reputation continues to grow with wins and highly placed showings at events such as the 2008 Way of the Horse at Equitana Asia Pacific, a highly popular win at the 2012 Road To The Horse with fellow Australian, Guy McLean, a fourth place finish at the 2013 Mustang Millions riding Smart Little Mustang (know by his barn name, Punk, this mustang died of colic in February of 2014) and by winning the 2014 Kentucky Cup Freestyle Championship on Smart Little Elan.  You can see both of these rides on YouTube by typing in, Dan James.  I guarantee you will be impressed by both his ability and his creativity.

James is well known for Roman Riding and for his astonishing work with horses at liberty.  Not to be lost in all of this is his exceptional skill as a rider.  My horse's trainer says that above all else, Dan James is an incredible rider.

Within minutes of introducing ourselves at the start of the clinic, James had made the connection between faces and names, an art form at which I've never been very good.  From then on he never failed to call anyone by other than their correct name!  And he made it clear from the beginning that we would work hard, stay busy and that he would spend time with each of us.  He reminded us that we had invested time and a considerable sum in his clinic and that we should try to take away from it as much as possible.

This was a ground control clinic that would stress five elements: flexing the horse for softness, circling the horse around you, backing the horse, the side pass and disengaging the horse's hind quarters.  We were quizzed repeatedly on each of these five elements as a part of that attention to detail.  Each of the exercises was done quietly without raising a cloud of dust and while remaining almost stationary near our horse's shoulder.  James was looking for movement from the horse and not the horseman.  By the way, the experience level of those in attendance varied from rank beginner to very proficient riders.

Bubbles.  Size doesn't matter.

One horse relentlessly bullied its owner to the point of being unmanageable.  Taking the horse's lead rope, James, carriage whip in hand, asked for a response from this rogue horse and when he didn't get the proper response, James backed the horse from one end of the 200' arena to the other and back again.  The happened over and over until the horse began to give the desired response.  Finally, James handed the lead rope back to the owner and joked that her horse might have a few "knowledge marks" on its ankles, but not to worry about it.

My clinic partner, Sarah and her horse, Tank.

James did spend some time with Stormy and me.  He wasn't fond of the way I backed Stormy up using a Clinton Anderson method.  Instead, he had me hold the lead rope just under Stormy's jaw and by putting pressure on her nose cause her to step back.  When she did, I released the pressure which was her reward.  He loved Stormy's side pass and seemed satisfied with her overall groundwork.  Stormy is a smart little horse and is pretty good at groundwork, but she hates it with a passion.

Stormy and I watch Dan James and his horse, Swampy.

Jessica was test driving this leased gelding.  She is a great rider.

Dan James with one of the student's horse.

But...it was Stormy's attitude that got us into trouble with Dan.  Stormy is a high energy horse and bores easily, and when she is bored or impatient, she paws the ground.  Twice James told me to, "Get after her when she does that."  I'm so used to her pawing that I seldom notice.  But it was at the end of the day when he asked to gather around in a semicircle that brought us some unwelcome attention.  I had tried to keep her away from the other horses the entire day, because as dominant mare she has a flair for bitchiness and has a peculiar herd management style.  She will kick any horse that steps into what she considers her space.  And she did, scaring a horse and its owner, who nearly jumped in Dan James arms.  In an icy tone James said, "And Loren, bring your horse along anytime, won't you?"  Ugh!

I wasn't able participate in day two of the clinic because of the serious injury to my wrist and hand sustained while loading Stormy for the trip to the clinic.  Everyone, including Dan James, was very concerned when I arrived wearing a huge and cumbersome splint.

Don't try this at home.

For me the highlight of day two was a demonstration by James and his horses working at liberty.  It was an incredible experience to be seated mere feet away as he put them through their paces using just two cue sticks to communicate with them.  And then, taking his Australian Stock Horse, Amelia and another horse to the opposite end of the arena, he walked, sticks held vertically, to within a few feet of where all of us were sitting.  Dropping the sticks, Amelia and her partner charged at full gallop, hooves pounding, nostrils flared and every muscle straining, directly at us, and at his signal they slid to a dusty stop just a few feet away.  Incredible.  Have I said that already?

Laying Top Gun down.

Nearly there.

Top Gun coliced and nearly died shortly after this clinic.

Day two was a lot more relaxed and as he watched the second group perform he answered our questions.  Here are some of his answers.

He has several tattoos and the one on his left arm is a copy of the mustang Punk's BLM freeze brand.

He worked for a racing stable in Japan that had 450 horses.  Each day 100 were ridden roughly 60 kilometers or about 37 miles.

The Road To The Horse (RTTH) victory did not have the effect on his career that he had expected.  Contestants pay their own expenses and stay where they are told to stay by the organizer. 

 From another source not connected to Double Dan Horsemanship, I was told that it is strongly suggested that each contestant buy the horse they used in the competition.  Dan's horse Swampy is a 6666 ranch horse used at RTTH, as is the horse, Ringer, trained by Dan Steers at this years RTTH.  Ringer was purchased by another of Double Dan's interns, Shalise.  Ringer was also at the clinic and like Amelia he is a big guy, just over two years old and at least 16 hands.  Shalise told me that all of the horses from the 6666 ranch are large like Ringer.  From my seat in the stands all the colts seem to be just 15 hands or so.

Amelia, the Australian Stock Horse, does not particularly like people nor does she care for a lot of attention,  By the way, she is a big girl.

Asked why he never mentioned a horses chewing, usually a sign that the horse is learning, he said that he felt the act of chewing was overblown and that he wants a reaction from the horse instead.

He has had too many broken bones to count, including a skull fracture suffered during a motorcycle stunt if I remember correctly.

He worked for his new intern Maggie's father at one time.

Maggie standing next to Swampy and Dan James.

He worked for six years on a 1.5 million acre cattle station in Western Australia where he was responsible for breeding, breaking and the maintenance of 200 horses.

Like Pat Parelli, many of Dan James' training methods were learned from a circus trainer.

Copyright, August 14, 2014 by Loren Schumacher

All photos Copyright, August 14, 2014 by Loren Schumacher, except that of Loren and Stormy by Carol Lang.

Who was Levi Rosaba?

As far as anyone knows, Levi Rosaba was a Washington State Cowboy working at the Denoo Ranch in the early 1900's.  Recently, a picture postcard addressed to someone in Waldo, Wisconsin, and a single yellowed page of what might have been part of a letter or memoir, came into my possession.

I haven't been able to find a definition of the name Rosaba, but my guess is that Rosaba is a derivation of the Italian, Rosalba, which means "white rose."

So here is perhaps all that is left of Levi Rosaba:

There are several things in this photo that caught my eye.  Levi seems to be wearing a cardigan sweater, street shoes and a "pinky" ring on his left hand.  Click on the photo to enlarge it.

He has a very light touch on the reins of his beautiful dappled grey horse.  The saddle is too large for his horse.  He's used a saddle pad and a blanket to make the saddle fit better, but the saddle still gaps behind Levi's left leg.  And the saddle may be a bit too small for the rider, because no part of the cantle is visible.  Maybe Levi just has a big butt, and it appears that he does.   He also seems to be virtually sitting on the saddle horn.  Things are a little tight in the saddle for Levi to be sure. Much of his equipment dates to the late 1800's, so it is possible that Levi has been a cowboy for some time.

Levi's handwriting leaves a lot to be desired, but he is not uneducated and uses punctuation properly.  He also shows a sense of humor when he calls the hair on his woolies "whiskers."

This postcard was mailed after December of 1908 when the stamp, Scott 331, was printed.  We are looking at a pre-WW I document.

The other document I mentioned has similar handwriting and references the Denoo Ranch in Washington, so it is likely that Levi Rosaba is its author.  Apparently he and another cowboy roped a Grizzly for sport or profit and things got out of hand.  Levi wrote:

"When my first loop missed, the Grizzly, with Joe Hoke's loop still around its neck, made straight for him and his horse, Lickorish (sic).  Lickorish, he was terrified, he stumbled and threw Joe hard. Joe was quick to his feet, but the bear was quicker and crazy to get at him.  He ran over Lickorish and knocked that good horse flat.  And soon enough Hoke disappeared under the Grizzly and made nary another sound.  I guess he was dead in an instant by the look of it.

All the while I levered my Marlin into that bear.  Poco {the dappled grey in the picture?} and me got close enough for me to give that bear five from my Colt, but the job was done and the Griz loped off to lick its wounds or die I guess.  But it did no good, Joe Hoke was dead.

You couldn't figure it was Joe by the look of him, so I wrapped him in his blanket and piled some creek rock on top of him.  I said the few words I know over him, then Poco, me and Lickorish made for the home ranch.  I guess the coyotes and the worms will take care of what's left of Joe.

They was stunned back at the Denoo and all said I didn't do enough to save him.  I did all I could. No one will speak to me and I guess I am about done here."

I've added some punctuation to make this read more smoothly, otherwise it is all Levi.



Copyright July 7, 2014 by Loren R. Schumacher
Photos from the author's collection.

Oh, S**t Update (Take two aspirin and call me in the morning.)

While the laceration on my wrist has been healing nicely, the middle finger on my right hand continues to hurt.  This morning my surgeon told me that the finger is fractured in two places and that the tendon which extends the finger has been torn away from the bone.  This condition is called "mallet finger."

I'll be in a splint for about six weeks and believe me, since the finger has been straightened, it really hurts.  The surgeon said that if my wife has to dress the finger she has to be willing to hurt me to do it properly.  That should not be a problem for her.

So far a pretty expensive horsemanship clinic.

Dan James Interrupted

Not all stories have a happy ending and this may well be one of them.

How Rhonda got my name, I don't know, and for some reason I didn't ask.  She was looking for someone with experience to exercise her quarter horse mare, Gunny, while she was on vacation.  "Why?" I asked, "Is there something wrong with her?"  Rhonda explained that Gunny's right stifle joint was literally just bone against bone.  In fact, x-rays showed fusion of the femur and tibia with other visible issues.  The stifle joint is roughly equivalent to the human knee.  She didn't want to give up on her favorite horse in spite of its twenty three years, but both Rhonda and Gunny were running out of options.

While Gunny didn't put her entire weight on the leg for more than a few seconds, I could not have guessed the extent of her lameness.  On the other hand, abrasions, some fresh and others in various stages of healing, showed that there might be other issues with Gunny.  And there were.  Rhonda said that if Gunny were to lie down on her right side she could not get up.  The abrasions were remnants of the last time she had tried to pull herself up.  It had taken nine people and a Bobcat to get her to her feet.  All she ever needed, it seemed, was just a little boost, and then she could get to her feet on her own.

As it turned out there would be no need for me to exercise Gunny.  Rhonda had uncovered a stem-cell study being conducted by Dr. Bertone at Ohio State University's Galbreath Equine Center.  After a flurry of phone calls, shuffling of forms and x-rays sent to the doctor, the prognosis was not good.  Dr. Bertone said that Gunny's condition was one of, if not the worst condition of its type she had seen and doubted that stem-cell injections would help the horse.  The doctor added that she couldn't believe the horse was able to walk at all.   But Rhonda's love for her horse somehow overcame the doctor's clinical doubt, and with a lot of reservation she agreed to see Gunny and do an evaluation.

I agreed to trailer Gunny, who had not been in a trailer for years, to Columbus on Tuesday, June 3.  Despite bad roads, impossible traffic and multiple detours, we arrived at about four o'clock in the afternoon after a three hour drive, one that should have taken about an hour and a half.

Dr. Bertone did a brief physical exam of Gunny's stifle area, watched her walk several steps, and again said that it was unlikely that stem-cell injections would be of any help, and that the horse's condition was so serious that she might have to be put down.

Gunny's loss of muscle mass in the hindquarters is evident here.

Dr. Bertone, in white, evaluating Gunny.  Rhonda is holding the lead rope.

Dr. Bertone talking to Rhonda with her staff and two third year vet students in blue in the background.

While Rhonda talked to the doctor, I walked an impatient Gunny up and down one of the receiving area's aisles,  Whenever I needed a break from the boredom, Gunny would nudge my arm or paw the ground as if to say, "Come on mister, let's walk some more."  It's likely that Gunny is more comfortable when she moves than when she is forced to stand still and bear all of her weight on just three legs.  She probably becomes quite stiff and sore.

I heard the doctor tell Rhonda that Gunny would not qualify for the study, but perhaps the study sponsor might donate some cells.  Dr. Bertone added that if the horse had a bad reaction to the injections she might have to be put down anyway.

The decision was a difficult one, but Rhonda made it quickly. She opted to try and save her horse's life.  I led Gunny down a long aisle in the Equine Ward where a large clean stall with a thick layer of straw bedding and several flakes of alfalfa hay waited for her.

Rhonda tied her sweatshirt to the stall's sliding door so that the lame horse would have something to remember her by.  As we walked toward my truck, Gunny was already eating her alfalfa hay.  She seemed comfortable and not at all concerned.

On the drive back home, Rhonda asked if I thought she had made the right decision. "Without a doubt," I said, "Without a doubt."

The "Great White" waiting to take us home.

**** In the end Gunny did not qualify for the stem cell study.  The owner financed treatment, but sadly, in the fall of 2014, Gunny was euthanized.

Copyright, June 5, 2014 for by Loren Schumacher

All photos by the author

Hang In There

I know that I promised a new post by now, however in addition to the injury to my hand and arm, there has been a death in our family.

I have the first draft completed on the Dan James clinic.  I was able to take quite a few pictures so the post should be colorful.  The one picture that shows me actually doing something is a bit out of focus, but I'm going to use it anyway.   The new post will be delivered in two parts, with part one being published this weekend...I hope.  I have a lot of grass to cut!

There has been a surge of interest in this blog lately with views in places like Kuwait and Viet Nam, but most surprising is the number of views in the Ukraine.  I know there has been a lot of tension and uncertainty there, so I hope that taking a look at this blog gives the viewer(s) some pleasure.

So hang in there, a new post really is coming and soon.

Oh,S**t!

It's been said that if you work with horses long enough, you'll wind up in the emergency room of the nearest hospital.  The odds finally caught up to me yesterday, Saturday, May 10,  as I was loading my horse, Stormy, into our trailer.

Carol, my wife, was handling Stormy's head after I had lead her into the trailer.  As I put her butt-bar into its slot, Stormy tossed her head and unexpectedly jumped backwards, crushing my hand against the butt-bar padding.  The middle finger on my right hand took the brunt of the blow.  

With my hand free I danced across the driveway using every word of profanity I know, and then I saw my wrist!  The seam of the butt-bar's padding had deeply cut my wrist following the line of the bone just above my hand.  There was very little blood, but I thought I could see bone.

I rinsed the cut with cold water and my wife dressed it with gauze and tape while I turned a deathly white.  When I was no longer woozy,  I decided to go to Australian Dan James' clinic as planned. After all, the clinic cost more than $300.00, not to mention a new set of tires for the trailer.  

More than twelve hours after the accident I strolled into the emergency room and spent the next three hours meeting six different members of the hospital staff,  signing at least a half dozen "permission to treat" documents and cooling my heels for long periods.  When the doctor got around to suturing my wrist the anesthesia had worn off, but I let her have a go at it anyway.   The "bone" was actually a tendon and partially torn, necessitating a trip to a hand specialist sometime this week.  Meanwhile because of the splint and padding used I can't use a fork very well, and we'll see if I can wash my hair tonight.

The splint makes it appear that my arm is broken.

I am working on the next post about the Dan James clinic and hope to post it by this Sunday.  There will be quite a few pics and some interesting factoids about Dan.

Copyright, May 11, 2014 by Loren Schumacher

Photo, Copyright, May 10, 2014 by Carol A. Lang