Galeano - Stormy, the barrel horse

Stormy The BarrelHorse
by Ralph Galeano

A Horsemans Press Publication

by Ralph Galeano

Copyright 1997 Ralph Galeano

All rights reserved.

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Table of Contents

by Ralph Galeano

In late spring, high above timber line in thenorthern Rockies, mountain peaks still glistened with a cap of deepsnow. Lower elevations had been free of snow for several weeks. Newgrass reached toward the warm spring sun in the wake of thereceding snow. A band of horses grazing below the snowline wereenjoying the tender new shoots of sweet grass. It was a welcomechange after a long winter of dry hay. The horses were content tobe back in the hills after wintering at their home ranch in thevalley below. The corrals at the ranch had become sloppy when thelower country began thawing out as the days became longer andwarmer. A crew from the ranch pushed the band of mares up into thefresh, clean land of the mountains several weeks ago to forage forthemselves and escape the muddy conditions around the ranch.

On this day, late in the afternoon, theweather began to deteriorate. Light winds turned into bitterwilliwaws that screamed down from the high peaks carrying stingingrain. Heavy black clouds rolling in from the Pacific Northwestpromised the approach of a foul storm. One mare stood facing intothe advancing storm. She held her head high and tested the fiercewinds. High gusts ruffled the remains of her shaggy winter coat.Her mane and tail danced and whipped in the wind as she studied thechanging weather. The aged bay mare looked back at the otherhorses on the exposed slope they were grazing. She gave a loudsnort to alert the band and then moved off at a fast trot down theslope. The other mares had been growing uneasy, so when the old bayissued her command, they willingly followed her off the openslope.

They traveled along the top of a brushycoulee following the bay mare. The old horse came to a trailleading down to the floor of the coulee. With surprising agility,she broke into a gallop and raced down the familiar trail. The restof the band jumped out after her and within seconds were all safelyon the canyon floor. Hidden in the narrow coulee, the horsesrelaxed and began grazing on scattered clumps of bunchgrass. Thecanyon walls protected them from the wind driven rain the storm wassending ahead as a messenger, warning all creatures to takecover.

Born fifteen hundred miles to the northwestin the Gulf of Alaska, the storm was moving relentlessly toward thehigh mountain ranges of Montana. A late spring, low pressure areabred this monster and sent it on a journey across the North PacificOcean, gathering moisture and saturating the cumulus clouds itgenerated. Heavy rain and winds pelted the Northwest for two daysand now it was the high mountain country of the northern Rockiesthat would feel the full fury and ultimate end of the dangerousstorm.

The coulee the horses took shelter in was anold friend to this bunch. They often hid here from rain or snowstorms that moved out of the high country. This time of year theleader knew they would be comfortable and find new shoots ofbunchgrass emerging around the clumps of sage and gooseberry brushdotting this ancient, dry watercourse. As the band of horsessettled down to wait out the storm, they could hear the screamingwind above them being deflected by the steep walls of thecoulee.

A feeling of security surrounded the band ofhorses. A few of the mares wandered up the draw to where the couleeturned toward the west, and its origin near the crest of themountains. As they neared a bend in the dry gully, the mares feltthe wind funneling down the gully. They turned and eased backtoward the rest of the band.

This coulee took on a different characterwhere the horses turned and headed back to the main bunch. Fromthis point on, the coulee climbed toward the Continental Divide,twisting and turning for nearly two miles. All along its course,smaller draws intersected it like branches on a tree. Largeboulders lay scattered along its bed.

Known as Dry Boulder Coulee, this gulchprovided a welcome haven to man and animals alike during badweather. Formed an eon ago, and hiding a frightening history ofterror and death, the coulee was now a safe sanctuary.

The mares entered Dry Boulder at a pointwhere the steep sides offered an easy way in and out. A good trailangled down the west side. Formed by countless hooves and feet overthe centuries, erosion and use had made the trail fairly wide andeasy to negotiate. Near the bottom, the coulee widened and was agood place to stay, especially on a day like this.

Sagebrush, gooseberry bushes, and junipersmade up most of the vegetation, and it was sparse at best.Snakeweed and small clumps of bunchgrass finished off the growth.Going out the east side of the draw, the trail angled wide and tothe south as it climbed out on top. A few gopher holes were theonly obstacles, and they could be avoided with any daylight at all.A horse at a fair gallop could cover the ground from one side ofthe draw to the other, in less than a minute. During the fallgathering, riders from the Bent Bar Ranch negotiated the draw onhorseback at speeds that seemed reckless, while moving and chasingcows out of the high country. The Bent Bar hands had exceptionalstock to ride and were all competent horsemen. It wasn't surprisingthat most riders wouldn't slow their mounts when chasing throughDry Boulder on this trail.

As the coulee continued its journey out ofthe mountains the brush grew heavier and the boulders rested closertogether making travelers pay more attention where they wereheaded. Deer and elk used this part of the gulch more than horsesor cows cared to. Their spooky nature made them feel more at homeand protected in this brushy tangle. The sides became steeper asthe elevation continued to fall. Large outcroppings of graniteprotruded from the walls at every twist and turn. A few game trailssnaked in and out, but were brushy, steep, and narrow. Mosttravelers usually avoided these trails and found something moreaccommodating when wanting to cross this area.

The tangled, steep section continued down foralmost a mile before the coulee leveled off and widened. Here thesteep sides began to give way to gentler slopes and Dry Boulderstarted to show a kinder nature. It became almost pleasant on thefinal leg of its journey to the valley floor.

Evening was approaching and the mares settledin to wait out the coming storm. Nibbling and picking at the newshoots of spring grass, the girls were content where they were.Only occasional squeals and nips occurred when somebody thoughtthey might be getting crowded by an unthoughtful neighbor. Thesewere reminders that kept the pecking order lined out right. MotherNature had equipped these horses with a built in weather warningsystem and right now that system was telling them to stay in thecoulee for the duration of the storm.