Cowboy Country

When I was a little girl, I loved to watch westerns, mostly because of the horses. I remember asking my mother one day why we couldn't live out west. Much to my surprise, my mother answered, "Honey, we do live out west. In fact about as far west as you can get." I was puzzled by that because I didn't think "my" west looked like the west you see in the movies.

Looking back, I have to laugh at my ignorance. I grew up in rural Eastern Washington in a small town far away from anything. You had to drive 140 miles to find a town bigger than 3000 people. My great- grandparents homesteaded in this area. In fact, I still have the original homestead certificate.

I'd like to share some childhood pictures with you of where I used to ride.

My friends and I getting ready for a trail ride.

My summers were filled with riding the hills above the valley I lived in, all open range land complete with cattle, old ghost towns, abandoned gold mines, and crystal clear lakes. I had no idea how lucky I was. Now I do. I didn't have a horse until my senior year, but I had a best friend whose family owned upwards of 50 horses. They lived at the base of the foothills and rangeland between Oroville and Tonasket, Washington. We'd saddle up, ride about a mile on a paved road then we'd be on a dirt road or take off on trails through sagebrush and cactus. Once in a while we'd encounter rattlesnakes, which to this day still don't thrill me much.



An old homestead near a lake

Sometimes we'd ride to an old homestead. The log cabin was still standing, testament to a simpler time. Even though life was tough back then, but were they really missing anything. A time devoid of cell phones, computers, the Internet, and all those things we take for granted. I often wonder if we haven't lost something important in our high-tech world.



My fiend, Connie, opening a gate next to a cattle guard.

 Often we'd ride up to Golden, an old ghost town, and a reminder of my hometown's history of gold mining. At the time several buildings were still standing, weathered and gray.



The ghost town of Golden, WA  The road in the distance is the same one in the picture above this one.


Two or three mine shafts were cut into the rocks in the surrounding hills. Being kids, we did explore a few of these. But ever wary of rattlesnakes, we never went too deep into the mines. The rattlesnakes were everywhere in those hills.

Exploring an old mine near Golden, Washington.

If we planned to be out all day, we'd take lunch in our saddlebags, put halters on over the bridles, and tie the leadrope to the saddle horn. We never concerned ourselves with helmets. I have no clue where we'd buy any if we were so inclined to wear a helmet. We wore boots, jeans, t-shirts. Our horses wore various western saddles and bridles with simple curb bits. I never laid eyes on an English saddle until I went to college.



Stopping for lunch near a small stream


Once in a while, we'd chase cattle we found grazing on the rangeland. Something which I'm sure the local ranchers weren't too thrilled about. All the cattle were Herefords, maybe a few Angus. Other times, we'd take the horses swimming in Blue Lake, known for its healing qualities because of the minerals in the lake. It'd be so hot that by the time we got back to the barn, everything would be dry.

A few years ago I went back home for my class reunion. My husband and I drove up the old dirt road you see in these pictures. The road hasn't changed much, but everything else has. The out-of-staters and  "city people" from Western Washington have found my little paradise. They've subdivided the land, put up fences, and posted "No Trespassing" signs. There are several houses in those hills, where once there were none. You can't get to Golden anymore. In fact, even Blue Lake is fenced off with warnings not to trespass.

Blue Lake

I was sad to see a little piece of my childhood barricaded from the public. I look back on those years fondly and regret that today's kids won't get to ride to the old ghost town or the homestead cabin. They won't get to imagine what it was like one hundred years ago when the first settlers came to the area. I was one of the fortunate ones, and I know it. Boy, do I know it.

I loved growing up "out west."