Eatons Ranch Revisited: 

Michael Rosenthal

Publisher

   It's been 25 years since I spent a summer working at Eatons Ranch. This working cattle and dude ranch was established in 1879, just 3 years after Custer lost his shirt at the battle of the Little Big Horn not far from here. It is situated in the Big Horn Mountains of North Central Wyoming on Wolf Creek. Families have been coming here for generations. 
   Now it was my turn
   I chose to return this year, partly for the sheer fun of it, and partly to see if I could understand why Wyoming still held a significant grasp on my psyche. I was joined by my 11 year-old nephews, Bryan and Jason.
   A lot has changed since that summer of '74, but not at the ranch. Bingo is still on Sunday night, Square Dancing Saturday evening and baseball every Wednesday afternoon. Still no TV or phones in the room, though all of the rustic cabins now have indoor plumbing. Eatons is one of the few horse dude ranches where you get fitted for a saddle upon arrival, a horse is picked out for you and from then on the trails are all yours. No need for guides or supervision. All ages are encouraged and you explore the mountains, canyons, and prairie all on your own. 
   It ‘s easy to imagine how the Native Americans felt living in this country. What is more difficult to imagine is what they must have felt and thought during the heyday of their civilization. They ruled this part of the continent for 300 years. The arrival of the horse changed everything for them. 
   During my summer here and subsequent years in other parts of Wyoming, I spent a lot of time trying to absorb the spirituality of this area. I identified with the Native Americans because I felt if I could understand how they lived here and how they felt, I could tap into the true essence of this place and even of the world. 
   I still feel at home here. Home in the sense that who and what I derive spiritual satisfaction from is somehow based in this region, in the Big Horn Mountains, and Wyoming at large.
   The headwaters of the three major rivers in America are in Wyoming. The Green River feeds the Colorado, The Snake feeds the Columbia and the Yellowstone feeds the Missouri and on to the Mississippi.
   Somehow knowing that the continent is nourished by this region reinforces my need to revisit it on a regular basis. That, and of course, the great fishing, open space, pristine rivers and clean air. The mountains are dramatic and wild, home to grizzly bear and wolf. The towns are fun with lots of street theater revolving around gunfights and hangings. 
   Our days on the ranch developed a certain rhythm. The clanging of the iron rail signified meal times. Our hostesses for the week, Cassie, Kelly and Katie made us feel like family. After breakfast of biscuits and gravy, scrambled eggs, juice and coffee, we went over to the barn and found our horses—Opus, Jake and Jim—saddled up and ready to go. 
   On our first ride across open hay fields, we learned to trot and gallop and ended up at Indian Rocks which gave us a full panorama of Eatons Ranch. Set right up against the mountains, the ranch provides a variety of landscapes to choose from. You can see into the Big Horns through Wolf creek and up into the high meadows and heavy forest. Ultimately, these mountains peak out at near 14,000 feet in the Clouds Peak Wilderness area. 
   It’s the side canyons just below the main range that offer the most stunning vistas. The terrain ranges from thick pine forest on one side, grassy meadows with Aspen groves in the middle to Red Rock country to the east. On the ride, you get to visit them all, with sure footed horses, fully versed on the trails and eager to return to the barn when we turn toward home. 
   From the top of the Canyons, we can see the rugged prairies to the east—Sycamore-lined rivers providing a vibrant green contrast to the golden prairie grass lands.
   It’s easy to understand why the Indians fought so bravely to protect this land. One’s spirit soars and feels free here. The elements are always evident. Big colorful sky, alive with thunder and lightening, followed by intense darkness filled with stars. Especially noticeable is the Milky Way directly overhead and the Big Dipper hanging low in the summer sky. 
   We visited the site of Fettermans massacre, where Red Cloud and Crazy Horse led their braves and defeated a contingent of soldiers out of Fort McKearny. The ghosts of the place still live here, the spirits of the soldiers and the Sioux warriors can easily be reincarnated. In fact, while we were there, a government historical unit was preparing to stage a re-enactment of the battle. Only 68 miles away is the battleground at the Battle of the Little Big Horn, perhaps the most famous of the US-Indian wars. 
   We visited Sheridan to do some western wear shopping and entertain ourselves at the cineplex. At King's, we checked out a cowboy museum and saw more horse gear then we ever knew existed. The boys roped a fake steer with a special cowboy rope until the place closed down. This is a good time of year here, but I noted in the story of Ft. Mckearny that the weather can dip to 40 below 0. Having lived on the other side of these mountains, I vividly recalled the harsh winters and noted that the state has actually lost population in the last 25 years. It is still the least populated state in the country. 
   We returned to the ranch and fished at the duck pond, where the boys pulled out 30 bass within a couple of hours. I told them my famous fishing story about Medicine Lodge Lake. My buddy Marty and I took a beat-up old oar boat in to the lake and started pulling out trout by the bucketful. Only problem was the boat had sprung a leak (probably why it was left there) and our fish revived and started swimming around in the boat. Then a wild lightning and thunder shower slammed us. We had to abandon ship with supper aboard and swim to shore where we spent a hungry but hilarious night recalling our adventure.
When I ride my bike along the beach in Santa Monica, looking for dolphins and perfect wave sets, my imagination often takes me back to the Big Horn Mountains.