Round 'Em Up! -- A City-Dweller Turns Cowgirl On An Eastern Washington Cattle Drive

ODESSA, Lincoln County - "Keep the sun at yer back and keep 'em movin' north."

Larry Zagelow of Zagelow Bar Z Ranch's Roundup called us over to a tree and shouted out instructions.

"We're gonna move 'em up to the ranch and break for lunch in about three hours. Let's go!"

After splitting us up, Larry pointed and hollered for me to round up a group of cows down by the lake. I sat high on my horse, but saw no trails. Four-foot high sage brush and rye grass covered the steep and rocky grade down to the cows.

"Right over the land?" I shouted back.

"Yep, right over."

Longing for the range

Last year I fought off the turning-40 blues by buying a horse, realizing an unfading childhood dream. Best investment I ever made and best friend, of the animal variety.

After a year of riding in covered soft-dirt arenas and on maintained trails of the forested Seattle suburbs, my western heart was longing for the range; nothing a good, old-fashioned cattle drive couldn't cure.

Once I heard about Zagelow Bar Z Ranch's Roundup in Odessa, about 78 miles southwest of Spokane, wild horses couldn't keep me from signing up.

Each mile of the New Mexico-like terrain became more dramatic as I neared Odessa last month. Mesas with steep drop-offs, covered with soft carpets of purple-blooming sage, framed endless wheatfields. Washington's bread belt, I reckon. (Reckon? "Oy Veh!" I can hear my mother echo from L.A. But, hey, even cowgirls can be Jews.)

Cattle have to be driven to new pasture regularly because they "mow" down pastures they stay on for any length of time. Pastures can range in size from 250 to 1,500 acres around Odessa, in what's called the Channeled Scablands - a region in eastern Washington that geologists believe was shaped by a series of enormous floods in the last ice age into canyons, buttes, gravel bars and giant ripple marks. It takes 40 acres of pasture to sustain a cow and calf in the scablands. The size of the herd and pasture and the time of year determines how long a herd can stay on a pasture.

On a June morning, with the sky threatening rain, it was time to move out the herd. I was the last of five women to arrive at the ranch at 8 o'clock Saturday morning. Two couples couldn't make it so our group was smaller than usual. We put on name tags and fueled up on coffee and sweet rolls.

Sherry Maresca, a stylish blond woman with meticulous nails, and her mother, Sharon Moore, both from Spokane, had treated each other to this experience for Mother's Day. Rochelle Evans and Jennifer Marchand were friends from Monroe. The five of us instantly bonded and nervously chattered non-stop as if we were old school friends.

From half of a lifetime of raising cattle and sowing wheat, Larry Zagelow's ruddy face and solid build resembled that of his 16-year-old son, Jeff, only more weathered and round. Gregarious and playful, he joked about the all-woman crew and how hard we would have to work.

Larry provided the fatherly comfort that we'd be safe on the range. June let us know food, drink and the comforts of their home awaited our arrival for meals. They were a perfect team.

Jesse Rodenbough, a professional wrangler, was riding with us, along with Larry and his son, Jeff.

Cindy Groh, the cattle rancher to whom most of the horses belonged, trailered us and the horses six miles to Deer Springs Lake, where the herd had been grazing for several weeks. They were everywhere. We received instructions from Larry who matched horses to riders' abilities.

My horse was Magnum. He was as rugged as the land. He had a muscled body and a gentle eye, but was missing the left half of his face hair, thanks to a bad case of mange.

I hopped on Magnum and maneuvered him away from the others. He didn't like that much, but I talked softly and patted until he softened and responded just fine. Soon we were fast friends.

Sure and light-footed, he floated me over loose rock to the group of cows down by the lake. He knew exactly what to do and together we pushed the cows up the hill. A few were testy, trying to return to the lake, but we confronted them head on and chased them back.

As we approached the crest, my heart pounded to see the herd gathering, pushed by the rest of the riders. There were four bulls and 68 cows each with a 2- to 3-month-old calf. I was surprised to find out that it took only one bull to "service" 25-30 cows. Busy boys.

The sun broke through the clouds, spotlighting the herd against the gun-metal sky. Catching my breath, I looked over to Rochelle and her horse, Cooter, who were working with me. She grinned, as elated as me. Now we were rollin'.

There were always stragglers running off in either direction to graze. The only way to keep them in the herd was to outrun them, cut them off and push them back, horse and rider creating an imaginary boundary they dare not cross. If you did it yourself, there were hoots and applause from other riders.

Larry or Jesse shouted instructions while Jeff drove the front of the herd himself with the ease of a skilled athlete. I scrambled to get Magnum away from the herd to take pictures. He was starting to get the hang of trotting away, stopping on "whoa!" and waiting for the sound of the shutter until he'd take off after the others again. I overheard Jesse say to another rider that his dog, Rex, and Magnum were his best friends. I was thankful he let me ride Magnum.

Every quarter-mile or so Jesse would fearlessly gallop his horse Ruby up a rocky mountainside and stand a hundred feet above us looking for stragglers, counting cows. He was from another era, silhouetted against the sky in his classic work chaps and Stetson hat, chewing snuff.

We were trotting fast after some cows when my horse Magnum stumbled. After that, I noticed he had a slight limp. Jesse and Cindy didn't seem too concerned, but talked about getting Lonesome as a replacement horse for me. I sadly patted Magnum's neck goodbye.

Come and get it

June Zagelow is an articulate perfectionist and her gourmet ranch cuisine proved it. She earns her keep as a substitute teacher in Lincoln County schools: the cattle drives are a labor of love.

"When I told the folks in town about our venture, women donated their best recipes."

On the lunch menu was Mary Louise's Ranch Stew, hot sourdough bread with butter and Grandma Dutko's strawberry jam. There was salad with dressings and pumpkin, rhubarb, pecan, peach, apple and berry pies.

"Thursdays before the cattle drives my entire kitchen becomes a pastry shop. We bake all of the breads, sweet rolls and pies that day," said June.

We relaxed and ate up but I could feel tension escalating in anticipation of the work ahead, rumored to be a much longer and more difficult ride. It was 1 p.m. now and we were expected back by 6 p.m. The temperature was about 75 and much of the cloud had burned off. We slapped on sunscreen and grabbed our hats.

The last leg

I saddled up my new horse Lonesome, a young, spirited gelding, and together we moved the herd out of the corral and up the road. There was lush pasture seducing the herd on either side. They were reluctant, always trying to break up and graze or turn back. This route was new and they were mooing, nonstop and loud, calling to each other to resist us. I could barely hear familiar western movie human sounds above their drone, "Yah, yah, hee-yah! Yip-yip-yip! Git on now!"

Two young bulls started to fight right in front of me. They pushed each other head to head into a downed barbed wire fence and gave up, unscarred. Tough stuff, cowhide.

"Randee, you watch the right flank of the herd and keep em movin' left," Larry shouted.

"Let's go get 'em, boy!" I whispered to Lonesome and he'd take off in an all-out gallop after the stragglers. We traversed up and back the line of cows, threatening the herd to stay together.

I flipped my hat off, wiped my wet, dust-covered forehead and stroked Lonesome's drenched neck. My mouth was parched and gritty. A white dust curtain veiled me from the rest of the riders.

I heard Jesse yell "C`mon you heifers!" Did he mean us or the cows? Jeff wasn't riding with us now. I felt his absence; I was working much harder.

We approached a pasture with an aggressive white bull pacing up and back along the fence. One of our bulls gave him a slanted-eye glare. We moved the herd quickly by him. Looking up the winding road and behind me, the herd moved like a serpentine. I couldn't see the beginning or end.

I dropped back to find the end of the herd. Larry smiled but kept his eye on the white bull as we passed. I twisted around and saw the bull looking longingly at us.

Up ahead, June and Cindy waited for us on the road with a truck load of lemonade and fresh fruit.

No sooner did I suck down three cups of lemonade when I heard Sharon yell "Larry! That bull jumped the fence!"

The white bull was racing toward us. Larry mounted his horse and tore down the road, chasing the bull back into his pasture. I later found out that a stray doesn't set well with the herd's bulls and deadly fights can occur.

After the break we moved more quickly toward our destination, the calves hungry and the rest of us, cows and horses included, exhausted.

Sherry and I rode alongside each other at the end of the herd. Though her face was covered with dirt, her perfect nails were still intact. Her horse Tina - the only mare in the group - nudged the calves into their mothers. All but three or four of these adorable youngsters would be sent to feed lots in October and then the meat packers by July next year. A year-and-a-half of life and only nine months of freedom. The leather of my boots and the steak dinner awaiting us caused me mixed emotions.

A cowgirl now

As the sun lowered behind us on the craggy landscape, a cool breeze ruffled our horse's manes and dried our sweaty clothes. We found the new pasture, drove the herd into it and closed the wire gate. We headed home, a laughing, loud-mouthed bunch of rough-riding women friends. In place of our morning nervousness, we now had a sense of satisfied pride in the challenge we put behind us.

I came home to Seattle with the true-grit, Annie Oakley confidence that someday, when I grow up, I too can be a cowgirl. ------------------------------------------------------------------- IF YOU GO Cattle drives and more

Zagelow Bar Z Ranch offers cattle drives on weekends in May, June and September.

The $185.00 package includes two nights at the Odessa Motel and some meals. There usually are around 12 guests riding.

Information: contact Zagelow's Bar Z Ranch, Route 2, Box 53, Odessa, WA 99159. Phone 1-509-982-2283.

Odessa, population 940, was homesteaded in the early 1900s by German-Russian wheat farmers. Each year the town celebrates with a Deutchesfest - Sept. 17-19 this year.

GETTING READY TO RIDE

If you've never ridden before or it's been a long time, let the Zagelows know. They will match you up with a slower horse, give you riding basics before the trip and help you out along the way.

Even if you are physically fit, horseback riding works different muscles than many types of exercise. Stretch thoroughly before and after riding, focusing on the lower back and leg muscles.

Also, consider going to one of the local stables and getting some riding lessons before your trip.

Here are a few instructors who are experienced with beginning adults:

Jim Evers at Canyon Creek Stables in Bothell, 485-4995; Carolyn Rice at Valley View Equestrian Center in Clearview, 1-206-337-3899; Paige Stegmar at Twin Springs Stables in Bothell, 485-0863; and Susan Schreyer at Canyon Creek Stables in Bothell, 745-0879.

WHAT TO BRING

I'd suggest wearing durable jeans, a short-sleeved shirt with a long sleeve shirt over, riding boots, a good- fitting cowboy hat with a tie or an oilskin hat or baseball cap.

If you don't feel too foolish wearing a bicycle helmet, it would protect your head from a fall (or you can buy a riding helmet with a visor at tack stores - something more and more riders are using these days). Also bring sunscreen and sunglasses.

Nothing wrong with packing a pair of gloves, rain slicker, jacket, bug repellent, small first aid kit, snake bite kit (I heard of rattlesnake sightings from previous visitors), Swiss army knife, a hoof pick and a water bottle.

Fanny packs are much easier to ride with than back packs.

OTHER RANCHES, PACK TRIPS

Here's a sampling of riding opportunities in Washington and Oregon.

State tourism offices can provide more information; various guides to guest ranches in the Western U.S. are available at bookstores. (For Washington State Tourism, phone 1-206-586-2088 or 1-206-586-2102. For Oregon Tourism, phone 1-800-547-7842.)

Washington:

-- Back Trail Packing (horse pack trips), Route 2 Box 64, Odessa, Wash. 99159, 1-509-982-2303 or 1-509-982-2504, -- Gold Creek Cattle Company, (cattle drives), Box 536, Methow, WA 98834, 1-509-923-2652 -- High Country Outfitters, (cattle drives, horse drives and pack trips), 3020 Issaquah/Pine Lake Rd. Suite 544, Issaquah, WA 98027-7255 , 1-206-392-0111 -- Hidden Valley Guest Ranch, HC 61 Box 2060, Cle Elum, WA 98922, 1-509-857-2322

Oregon:

-- Bar M Ranch, (guest ranch), Route 1 Box 263, Adams, OR 97810, 1-503-566-3381

-- Ponderosa Cattle Co., (working guest ranch), P.O. Box 190, Seneca, OR 97873. Phone 1-800-331-1012 -- Red's Horse Ranch, (guest ranch), 175 Highway 82, Lostine, OR 97857, 1-503-569-2222

-- Rock Springs Guest Ranch, 64201 Tyler Rd., Bend, OR 97701, 1-503-382-1957 or 1-800-225-DUDE

-- Sun Pass Ranch, (guest ranch), P.O. Box 516, Klamath, OR 97626, 1-503-381-2259.

-- Randee Fox