Riding for the brand with the Roundup Riders

I miss some of the old days. It is worse when you suffer from O.A.D. (Old Age Disorder). They were some of the best times. I was invited to be a Wrangler for an outfit known as the 3R’s aka The Roundup Riders of the Rockies. They were a group of guys who formed a weeklong ride in 1948 going over at least one of the passes in the Rockies in Colorado.

I was invited to work for the group as they had 150 riders and 175 horses. Who rides? I watched one year as several riders flew in by copter as their horses were already there waiting for them. Yep, it costs a pretty penny to ride this ride.

It took 22 Ryder trucks to haul the equipment, and these good ole boys do it up right --including a band every night. It also includes a toilet truck and a shower truck. They ride 20-plus miles per day, and the camp is torn down and moved every day except Wednesday when they do a layover and horse game day -- 15 tents plus the huge meal tent and about 50 workers.

Oh yeah, did I mention that they also have three catering trucks so breakfast and dinner is ready in camp and lunch is packed along with drinks on a train of eight mules to enjoy in the middle of nowhere? I was a wrangler for years before taking over as Night Hawk. Just myself and 175 horses at night with only a pitch fork should any local coyotes show up.

Two wranglers rode with the riders bringing extra horses, just in case one of the horses gets hurt or lame. I got to ride several of the rides. We were above Twin Lakes, Colorado, a beautiful area when one of the horses got sick. A vet was always along for the ride, and the riders continued back to camp while we tried to help the sick horse.

Trying to find water was a problem, and the doc was worried. As we were near a roadway, I asked the doc if he wanted his trailer. He said yes but didn’t know how to get it in time as we’re a ways out yet. I told one of the wranglers, “Here, hold my horse” as I handed him my reins and walked to the road. Soon, a car came along so I walked out into the road, waving my arms.

The guy stopped but was a bit worried, but then the wrangler walked out of the woods with our horses. I explained I needed a ride to camp because of a sick horse. The guy said hop in, and down the road we went. When he pulled into camp, he was speechless, seeing so many trucks, horses and tents. I yelled to the boss man that we needed the vet truck and trailer.

We hopped in and headed out. We got to the sick horse, loaded it up and headed back. In doing so, we were able to save the horse. I enjoyed 10 years of that annual ride. Good times!