When the boss sidles up to you on shipping day and says “You’re coming to lunch” you are going to be at that ranch table and you are obliged to eat – a lot. This is a truth above all else when it comes to the kitchen, living room, mud porch and every other part of American West rural life: She is The Boss. I speak from experience. The latest was out on Miller Ranch last week. Bev Miller appeared at our side as we chronicled for television the day of cow gathering, sorting and shipping. Then Bev went back to tending a fidgety grandchild. Her son Jason – the current world champion steer wrestler of pro rodeo – rode over our way a little later. “The boss says you’re coming to lunch?” he quizzed. “It would be a sin not to,” I replied. He nodded in the affirmative and went back to chores at hand.
Once a lunch appearance was assured through those discernable only to cowboys signals I can’t really explain, the patriarch of the place, Pat Miller, ambled by and we had a good conversation. He explained the oil-rich history of Lance Creek, Wyoming and how there used to be a school full of kids, several grocery stores and even a landing strip. He spoke not with grim nostalgia but with pride. He has seen a lot of changes and isn’t about to dwell on a one. Much more important now is deciding on pastures for winter grazing.
Watching the Miller family and friends take care of business in the corral made me appreciate all the more a way of life that is, I think, what keeps a lot of us here that could have moved elsewhere. It is a spirit of freedom, clean air and water, and open space. We – Mike the Camera Genius and I – moved around the outer edges of the pens throughout the morning just about clueless as to the progression of events. “What are they doing now?” I ask Pat who is standing next to me. “We want all the calves getting shipped to be of similar size and look,” he says. And so the son-in-law points a finger one way to send the chosen 108 to market and bends a thumb back to indicate those animals that aren’t going away today. I know the steers were punching a trip ticket but how those heifers were deciphered for differences in appearance is way out of my league. They are all black, four legs, and their moms are bawling. It was a great way to spend the morning. We leave the corral realizing there was not one second spent worrying or fretting about personal or job issues. We were transfixed and transported to 1892 and …what is this four-wheeled thing with an engine anyway?
Beef was piled high back in Bev Miller’s kitchen. We all left our footwear outside. Everyone was directed to wash up. The food line moved quickly and the feast was on. I looked over at Jason and thought about what he said as he switched horses that morning: “I don’t know anybody that ranches because it pays so good. You get to live in the country. You’re your own boss. You get to ride horses and work cows every day. You can’t ask for anything better than that, I don’t think.”
Well said, Jason. Just remember who is boss.
MILLER RANCH
Pro rodeo’s champion steer wrestler Jason Miller is a top hand on the family cattle ranch. We travel to shipping day at Miller Ranch with photojournalist Mike McCrimmon and reporter Curtis Scott:
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
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