Week 4 of the project brought some snow and rain to the Wood River Valley, but it also brought me deeper into the world of the shepherds and ranchers. From clearer insights into the differences to operations, to seeing how sheep are transported and helping to count them, this week brought with it a more profound understanding of how these groups operate.
The goal for the week was simple: finish meeting with the local foremen. These guys form an integral part of the sheep operation, so getting to know them is critical to understanding how these ranches operate. Before I could do that, I had some unexpected business come up. Alfredo and Sixto called me and asked whether I could bring the dog at their camp up to them on my way to see them. “Can I bring you a dog?” I repeated, unsure if that’s what they asked me. “Yeah, yeah, there’s a dog at the camp, just bring it up to us.” I said I would give it my best. Upon arrival at the sheep wagon, I saw the dog, a mangy young white Livestock Guardian Dog. I whistled, called for it, and then got the dog food out to try and entice it. Nothing. There was zero chance this dog would come within thirty feet of it. I left it some food and water so that Alfredo and Sixto could get it the next day. Talking to them up at their tent camp, they told me that this was the second time the dog had been brought to them. “The first time, we came down to get it, and a tourist had taken it! It wound up in the animal shelter a few days later. We’ll go get it tomorrow.” Alfredo also let me know the foreman, Ray Mavencamp, would be moving their further north on Wednesday.
The next morning, I headed up to meet Ray. I showed up early to make sure I wouldn’t miss him, but when I got there Alfredo and Sixto told me that he wouldn’t be there till later in the day, despite having asked them when he would be coming by the day before. Oh well. I would try back later. Such is the nature of this work. Schedules and plans change like the wind as equipment breaks, gets lost or disappear.
This missed meeting let me head off to meet the herder that had just entered the Lake Creek area. This was the second band owned by the Faulkner Livestock Co. that I would get the chance to meet. Upon arriving, I saw the herder trotting off on horseback at a far faster clip than I could muster. Kicking myself for not getting there sooner, I went back to the sheep wagon to investigate. The door was swung wide open with a man inside eating some lunch. I introduced myself to Erazmo. We barely had a moment to chat before a truck hauling a trailer and a water-hauling truck pulled beside us. Two men get out, one speaking Spanish, the other following directions. Could this be John Etchart? I wondered to myself. That would be quite my luck. John is the foreman for the Faulkner operation. I had tried to catch him at various times over the previous weeks, but he moves quick and doesn’t stick around for long. He has a reputation for being a jokester, and he certainly exceeded my expectations. The man stepping out of the ranch truck seemed to speak pretty good Spanish, so I doubted whether he was the guy I was hoping to run into. “John?” I asked. “You must be Logan. How’re you doing?” I was thrilled to get to meet this guy, but before we could talk he had to get his business done. He asked the man that came with him to show Erazmo how to work the pump on the water truck, and then told him to take the truck for a ride to teach him how to drive it. Erazmo didn’t have much experience driving a manual, let alone a massive water truck, so this would be interesting to watch.
As Erazmo pulled away quite successfully, John and I got to talking. He reminded me of my grandpa with the way he cracked jokes without stopping to breath, barely cracking a grin to let you know he was joking. It turns out he not only speaks Spanish, but he speaks Basque as well, which is an incredibly challenging language to learn. He seemed enthusiastic about getting equipment to his herders as soon as possible, knowing that they were already deep in wolf country.
Once Erazmo came back, John went on his way. Erazmo and I talked for a while, and he showed me where he was from in Peru: Cajamarca. He uses his money earned here to pay for his two girls to go to school in Lima, the capital of Peru. He said he used to live in the countryside herding sheep, but now he lives in the city with his kids when he’s not in Idaho. It turns out he worked as a cook for the herders down in Arizona, cooking for large groups of people at a time. Before heading on his way, John yelled to Erazmo that he needed to show me some of his cooking.
I got lucky that day running into John, but I got even luckier heading back out to Greenhorn Gulch. There I found Ray Mavencamp and Alfredo setting up the corral for the next morning. He invited me to come out the next morning to meet with the Henslee brothers and see how they load up the sheep for transport. It seemed like the perfect chance to meet the Henslee family while also getting to see a bit more of the ranch work.
Very early the next morning I headed out to see for myself what loading the sheep looked like. When I got there, a livestock guardian dog had gotten away. I introduced myself to Mike and Mark Henslee, the two brothers that run Plateau Farms, and asked what had happened. He explained that if the dogs don’t get loaded into the corral before the sheep, they’re impossible to catch. “They hate getting loaded up in the trucks,” he said “The best way to keep these dogs away from you is to tell them: Come here boy!” I made a mental note that I would have to try that the next time the dogs start chasing me while visiting the herders.
Before long, the sheep-loading began. A series of fences lets them move sheep into different loading zones. The final loading area gradually narrows till its wide enough for one sheep at a time to enter. The sheep then run up a plank into the awaiting semi for transport. Meanwhile, Alfredo, Sixto and Ray stand in the corral whooping and hollering while throwing their arms up and shaking some hollow plastic tools filled with what seemed like beads. Sheep are extremely skittish animals, so this was enough to motivate them to move forward into the truck. Some didn’t and jumped higher than I ever would have thought it possible for a sheep to jump, nearly careening over the fence itself. Some moved so fast they were able to fit themselves between the metal bars of the corral. Still, the far majority nervously baa-ed themselves along the corridor, ready to be transported north into the Sawtooth National Recreation Area. As the first couple rounds of sheep were herded up, I let Mike know that I’d been bringing non-lethal deterrent equipment out to Alfredo and Sixto, and that we would have more coming as soon as our orders came in. He seemed relieved that the project had already gotten out to talk with the herders and bring them equipment. I thanked the brothers for letting me watch their operation work, said goodbye to Alfredo and Sixto, and headed on my way.
To finish off the week, I went to find Roberto again. Kurt Holtzen had shown me a much lighter, easier to carry way of setting up the Fox Lights. Using plastic posts, I can cut them down to the right height and eliminate the unnecessary burden of carrying extra weight for the herders. Cutting them down to about the height of a wolf makes them more effective because the lights are emitted horizontally. If the light is in the wolf’s line of sight, the light appears much brighter and thus is much more effective at deterring them. I brought a few of these posts out to Roberto, as well as a fresh, piping-hot chicken breast from Atkinson’s. He had asked me if I would bring him one, and boy he looked like he needed it when he showed up. His herd showed up first, with hundreds of sheep baa-ing incessantly, running towards a water trough situated just in front of Roberto and Darío’s sheep wagons.
Roberto arrived on foot. I had expected him to have his horse, but he left it up above. Once he got his flock settled, he dug into the chicken and cracked open a cold soda. After eating, he asked me to help him count his black sheep, which can be helpful to know whether other sheep are missing. Because sheep tend to stick together in groups, and because there are only a few black sheep to a flock, counting them can be a quick way of seeing whether a herder is missing sheep. For the next twenty minutes or so, I imitated what I had seen Alfredo and Sixto doing in the corral the day before, whooping and hollering to make the sheep moving up the drainage we were in. I moved back and forth to get at the straggles. Roberto stood at a vantage point to make sure he could see the whole flock and count them as they passed by. “Todo bien. Hay nueve.” All good. The nine black sheep were there. He probably hadn’t lost any others.
As Roberto prepared to head back up the hill, we watched as the sky grew ominously dark. He mentioned that he didn’t have a rain jacket. I asked him what else he might need, and slowly he told me that he could use some new work clothes, both shirts and pants, and a new backpack. All of his clothes are falling apart from constant use, day-in, day-out. His backpack’s zippers don’t close and the straps are close to coming off. He made it clear that he wouldn’t want anything new, just something from a thrift store. I let him know I would see what I could do.
I want to try to make these guys’ lives as easy as they can be. They are helping us out when they use our equipment. They already work every day of the week, all year long. They spend long lengths of time away from their friends and family to come be herders. At the end of the day, the community’s desire to coexist with the wolves depends on the buy-in from the herders. People like Roberto and Doroteo are the ones using this equipment every day, in order to avoid depredations and conflict. I can go out there every day and talk to these guys, showing up to watch them load sheep and help count them, but if they don’t have the tools to assist them with the task that we have presented them with, they are far less likely to do it. Without the right shoes, backpacks, and clothes, their job of being a herder and a volunteer livestock guardian becomes far more difficult.
Roberto is a great example of how the differences between the operations allow each herder to be more or less successful regarding deterring wolves. Having one person tend 2,000 sheep alone, while living off horseback and in a tent almost every day, makes it much more difficult to convince them to trek around non-lethal deterrence equipment. His horse is already laden down with his camping gear and supplies. On top of bringing this around, to be truly effective he’ll have to camp closer to the sheep, stay out late and wake up earlier than he normally would. A one-man operation makes this extremely difficult. In contrast to this style of sheep operation, you have the Faulkner Livestock Co., which has two people to a band. These two guys stay in their sheep wagon every night, which saves them time during the mornings and evenings. On top of this, they have water trucks available so they don’t have to worry about bringing their sheep on sometimes lengthy journeys in the search of water. Having to people instead of one allows for a greater flexibility in response to potential wolf activity. One herder could stay in the wagon while the other goes to camp out near the sheep or set out the lights. They could switch every other day, rather than one being fully responsible for every aspect.
Of course, we still need herders like Roberto to use these non-lethal methods. Part of that will come through exposure and making his life easier in other ways. While talking about developing buy-in from the project’s partners in my previous blog post, I’ve spoken about the need to develop human relationships based on trust. At the same time, this trust needs to be followed up with reciprocity. We both help each other out in a way that enhances both of our lives and furthers both of our goals. By providing the herders the equipment they need, i.e. backpacks and good shoes, their jobs and our goals will be accomplished much easier. I think this reciprocal generosity and mutual aid between the herders and the project will bear fruit for years to come; hopefully much longer than I am around to see. With that being said, I will be scouring the Gold Mine and the Attic thrift stores for dependable gear to get out to these guys in the hopes of getting them on solid ground so that they can do their jobs as best as they can.
Happy trails, all!
Logan
Next week: A Midnight Visitor