Country versus City

Sometimes guests ask me if living out here in the remote backcountry is hard.  Do I ever miss the city and everything that living in a town offers?  Like, the culture, the restaurants, pubs, cafes, malls and more than 30 people in one place at any given time.  Well, the answer is...no.  Other than my family and friends, I don’t miss too much about the city. 

Oh sure, every once in a while I dream about people watching while drinking a cold beer on a down town patio with friends.  Sure, sometimes I long for a special coffee that comes from some fancy machine in a cute little café decorated with local art.  And sure, my pick of 25 yoga studios and a hundred different, talented, instructors does leave me wistfully daydreaming of my favourite yoga classes.  But then, I remind myself of all the things that living in ‘the bush’ has got on the city.  For example: I forget where I put my wallet….about 2 months ago.  I also have no idea where my keys are…or my car.  I need not worry about how I’m going to get somewhere or how long it will take.  I live where I work and I never have to commute, unless you count the 5-minute walk to the ranch house from my tent.  And during that 5-minute ‘commute’, no one ever crashes into me because they’re texting while walking--walkxting.  In fact, phones rarely enter my thoughts.  I don’t get phone calls at inopportune times, never have to answer texts when I would rather be paying attention to the friends I’m actually hanging out with in person (but, of course, I don’t want to seem anti-social), and my smart phone is not a fixed and permanent accessory to all outfits out here.   It’s pretty nice.  The air is cleaner, the nights are darker and the stars are brighter.  Now all I need to do is get all my friends jobs at Siwash or convince my parents to buy a ranch!  

The Horses

Most people who go to work at a guest ranch that specializes in the worlds best trail riding, are horse people.  I am no exception and for the last 2 months I have been in horse-girl heaven!  I get paid to ride the beautiful Siwash Lake Ranch horses…which is something I would normally gladly pay to do.  So, life isn't too bad these days, especially now that the rain has stopped and the sun is shining!  

Naturally, everyone bonds with some horses more than others.  We try to match our guests up with just the right animal to suite their personality.  They get to ride the same horse for their entire stay at the ranch so that they can really get to know their mount.  And, although we wranglers love all the horses, we have our favourites to ride too.  My favourite horses at the ranch these days are Salut, Queenie and Lieutenant.  I seem to like the cheeky ones (I don't know what that says about me!) and Salut is the king of cheek!  He has loads of great traits (like trying to taste everything, nuzzling anything that moves, and looking right at you as if he knows exactly what you're saying all the time!) that give him a personality far larger than his stature.  He is, after all, only a little Welsh pony.  I love riding him because he is such a funny little guy, but to be honest, I'm about twice his size and could probably hook my feet under his belly if I wanted to (of course, I would find myself looking back up at him from the ground if I tried a stunt like that, but the point is, I could).  He is a great kids pony; I wish I was 9 years old and 4 and half feet tall--we would be perfect together!  

Queenie is a gorgeous 6 year old Palomino Quarter horse with the attitude of a teenage girl who knows she's a bomb shell and is, like, totally sure you should give her another treat for looking this good.  I think that if she could talk she would sound just like Cher from the movie "Clueless" and she's even been given the nick-name Princess-Barbie-Horse by some of our guests form the UK.  She, like, totally suites it.  She is a blast to ride and hilarious to hang out with on the gound.  

And finally, Lieutenant.  He is big, beautiful, smooth as silk to ride and has the kind of power that leaves me grinning from ear to ear after a good lope through a grassy meadow or up a nice hill.  He is the perfect size for me and even though he is often a big old grump when you're tacking him up, I know he likes to be out on the trails because his good humour comes back as soon as you're in the saddle.  Oh, and he's pretty darn good lookin' too.  

I'm sure my list favourites will be added to throughout the season (I had an amazing ride on Sheza today so she may have to go on the list!) but for now, any day I get to ride one of those lovely animals is a day in heaven for me, even if I look and feel completely silly on Salut!  

R & R

After 6 weeks working at the ranch it was time to take a full weekend off and go back into the ‘real world’ for a visit.   I met up with my boyfriend in a nearby town and we drove together to the buzzing metropolis of Kamloops, BC!  And, let me tell you, when your world for the last month and a half has been 200acres, 15 people and a bunch of animals, Kamloops definitely feels like a proper, big city. 

I suppose I expected (and my boyfriend, Ryan, certainly expected) that I would want to do girly, clean(!!!), less manure related, city things like hanging out at posh cafes drinking specialty coffees, catching a movie, getting my hair or nails or something done, but I found myself dragging Ryan from western wear store to tack shop and then right out of the city to go camping.  I guess my time here in the middle of nowhere has completed my transformation from city girl to outdoor, mud-up-to-my-knees-and-I-don’t-even-care, cowboy hat and blingy belt loving, western ranch girl. 

Camping anyone?

Ryan, the bushman that he is, isn’t complaining about my newfound animosity towards cities and I’ve realized what most people realize when they come to places like this ranch—the wilderness is where humans are at their best.  We thrive in the nature and when we figure that out there’s no going back. 

Pretty hard to leave a face like this!

Ranch Babies!

Spring on a ranch means babies!  Baby everything from ducks on the lake to calves and chicks.  Even the garden is in baby mode--seedlings and baby greens everywhere! 

This is Olivia and the first calf of the season! He is not even a day old in the photo.

Most babies have mothers to care for them; we didn't even know Olivia the cow had given birth for a couple of days because cows are so self-sufficient.  But when you order 30 chicks to eventually build up the numbers of laying hens, they don't come with built-in-mommies.  And so, the wranglers here at the ranch stepped in to fill the role.  First, I should clarify for you non-country folk, that when I say 'order 30 chicks', I actually mean order 30 chicks!  They arrive in the mail, in a box, all pilled on top of one another, and as long as they arrive at their destination and get under a heat lamp within 24 hours of hatching they should be fine.  Talk about hearty animals!   

When these chicks arrived at the ranch they were tiny little fluff balls, barely opening their eyes and completely useless.  We built them a brooder out of an unused water trough, towels and a heat lamp, got them water and 'chick starter' feed and then began acting as chicken mommies.  Being a chicken mommy means keeping the chicks really warm, making sure they have a clean home, lots of water and food and picking the crusty poo from their anuses to make sure they don't get clogged up and die.  Yes, you read that right.  We had to pick the crusty poo from their little chicky bums with our finger nails and wet paper towel.  Don't ask me how the real chicken moms do this but as human chicken moms it is an imperative part of raising chicks.  It is also, really gross.  But, we had a pretty good first few days and most of the mail-order chicks survived past the highest risk time.  Now they are happily learning to scratch and flutter around with less human chicken mommy help.   YAY!  

Hopefully none of the other ranch babies need quite so much help!

The piggies!  

Cowboys are Basically Country Hipsters.

Last weekend was the Clinton BC rodeo!  Yeehaw!  Unfortunately, the crew here at the ranch are busy working during the days, so we missed the day time events but, after the roping, barrel racing and bronc riding is done most rodeos will have a big dance and a group of us pilled into a couple trucks and headed into "town" for the rodeo dance!   

I didn't quite know what I was getting into going to a rodeo dance, but as I watched the cowgirls and boys of the group getting ready to go I started to get the feeling that this was going to be something special.  The boots got shined, the nice starched shirts came off hangers and all manner of 'blinged-out' accessories were added to the fancy country outfits.  Bejewelled belts, embroidered shirts, and the 'nice' hats came out.  Then it was a one and a half hour mud-bogging drive to the rodeo grounds (for us city folk who think that 30 minutes is far away, a 90 minute drive to a party seems a bit much…but in the country nobody seems to notice the cost of fuel or the 3 hours of travel for 3 hours of fun) where our big muddy trucks fit right in.  So did our cowboys and girls!  We walked into the barn and all I could see was all the ways this party was nothing like the parties where I come from.  First of all, the venue: we were in a barn with sand on the ground and plywood laid down for a dance floor.  Mice were running around wondering why nobody told them we were going to party in their house this weekend.  Secondly the attire, and I know I've already written about the country style but I can't help doing it again--it's so strange to me!  Men were walking around, at night, in doors wearing huge hats.  Please, someone explain this to me!  I've learned to love my cowboy hat for keeping the sun out of my eyes and the rain off my neck….but at night? In doors?  My boss, a true cowgirl, says that cowboys wear their hats all the time because it's guaranteed to make the face under the hat 75% more handsome.  It just seems impractical to me.  And the belt buckles so big they could keep a man dry on a rainy day--really necessary?  I think they probably act to weigh down the jeans more than keep them up.  In general the whole idea of wearing 'town clothes' that are basically clean, sparkly versions of outdoor ranch clothes to party in seemed strange to me.  

                                      The country music band who rocked the barn all night!

As the night went on, however, I started thinking about city folk and, in particular, the hipster phenomenon.  I realized that maybe cowboys and hipsters aren't so different really.  They both pay tribute to a bygone era, they both wear completely silly clothing in every situation no matter what makes sense (hats and boots are to the cowboy as glasses without prescriptions and scarves in August are to the hipster) and they really don't care what anyone thinks about it.   So, maybe my new world isn't so different from my city world and maybe people everywhere are all the same, just wearing different outfits.  

       

Learnin' to Speak Cowboy

Every working ranch needs a certain amount of people working together to make the machine run.  At a guest ranch it takes a full crew of young people with endless energy and permanent smiles!  In the week after I arrived the rest of the crew trickled in, settled in and began to get to know each other.  I soon realized that I spoke a language quite different to the more experienced wranglers and country folk…I had to work on my Cowboy speak!

When learning to speak Cowboy (aka: redneck) one must remember to never use correct grammar or tenses.  Example: 'I came around the corner and their were three pregnant cows who looked ready to have their babies.'   Becomes: "So, I come  'round the corner and saw them heffers lookin' ready to drop them calves" Also note that cows never 'have babies', they "drop calves" and there is no such thing as a "baby calf", it's just a calf--all things I got wrong early in my cowboy learnin' and was mercilessly laughed at for.  Next, when speaking Cowboy one should attempt at all possible times to shorten words.  Example: Running becomes runnin', laughing becomes laughin' and so on.  When telling stories or sharing anecdotes one must be excessively thorough and include at least 25% inaccuracy(bullshit) in order to be considered a half decent tale.  And, of course, in order to master the language it is important to insert Cowboy phrases and common sayings regularly.  Example: "There's many a slip twix the cup and the lip" meaning a lot can go wrong in a short period of time; "Fair to middlin'" as a response to most any question; and "There aint' a horse that can't be rode or a man that can't be throne" as a comment on life in general.  And on that note, the topic of life, manliness and huntin', fishin', ropin' and rodeoin' should be discussed regularly and with great seriousness.  If these simple steps can be achieved, you can move on to "Rodeo Speak" and greater ranch etiquette.  

So, my education continues.  Later this week some of the staff, including myself, are going to a rodeo dance in the nearest town.  I have a feeling I'll be coming back to the ranch with more stories and a better idea of what living in this part of British Columbia really means. 

Cowboy at work

First Impressions

For those of you readers who don't know me, I drive a 25 year old VW hippie van with flowers lovingly spray painted on the sides.  A relatively normal (although always awesome) vehicle to drive on Vancouver Island….not really designed to take on the 40 odd kilometres of dirt logging roads and private driveway in post-winter break-up conditions that was my only way of getting to the ranch.  But we made it (my boyfriend, Ryan, dropped me off because he is currently living in the van and needed his home back) on an unexpectedly snowy morning in late April after a comically slow slog in 2nd gear.  Ryan helped me with my bags, set off on his return journey and I was left to check out my new 160acre home for the summer.

Here's the basic run-down:  Each staff member has their own canvas, ranger style tent (unless they're a couple) in an area we call "tent city".  We have nice washrooms and a staff house which has the lounge area, dining room and kitchen, as well as a couple more bedrooms.  It's lovely and private and just far enough away from the guest areas--it's fantastic.  Then there is the main ranch house which is a classically beautiful, South facing, timber framed home with several guest suites, the owners living space, spacious dining room, great room and gourmet kitchen.  It is on the edge of a small blue lake; home to water birds, drinking hole to local deer, moose, ranch horses and cows and sporting a dock for swimming in warmer weather.  Up on a hill overlooking the lake and with a view of the Marble Mountain range in the other direction are 3 totally decked out glamping tents for more guest accommodation. I know all that sounds pretty great but the real kicker for me are the barn and corrals--where the fun comes from!  The barn is another timber structure, this time filled to capacity with all manner of tack, feed and other ranchy odds and ends that I am still putting names to(it also houses guests in a suite above the action).  Attached to the barn are the three large corrals where the horses who aren't out on the trails spend their days relaxing.  Also on the ranch are 7 cows, 3 adorable pigs who I absolutely cannot get attached to for obvious reasons, and countless chickens.  Watching and meeting the animals has been endlessly entertaining for me!

                                      

                                       Some of the horses grazing in front of the staff tents

When I first arrived the horses were out at pasture, where they spend the majority of their time.  I should mention that out here 'pasture' seems to mean fencing in the things you don't want the animals to get into rather than fencing the animals in, so the first few mornings I woke up to the sound of horses grazing outside my tent.  I had to push them out of the way to get to the bathroom and watched them milling outside the window as I ate my cereal…awesome!  The 12 year old horse-crazy girl inside of me was going nuts!  She still is except that now, after a couple weeks of actual work, she has been joined by the 24 year old who really likes her new job!  This is horse and hospitality paradise rolled into one. 

Some of the horses grazing near the ranch house

The Next Adventure

The Next adventure

Hello blogisfere.   My name is Brianna and I never thought I would be blogging, but this summer I have been hired on as the Assistant Manager (in training) of a guest ranch in the Cariboo range of British Columbia.  Considering that I am a)born and raised in a city, b)from the west coast where rain is more comfortable than drought and puddles are preferred to dusty fields and c)as unexposed to the world of ranching and all things 'Western" as you would expect a city girl to be, this summer is sure to be somewhat interesting and certainly educational.  I thought I would share my(hopefully entertaining) experiences, stories, trials and tribulations, and new cowgirl knowledge with whoever wants to read.  So here goes…Blog #1.

My new adventure truly started when I received my packing list.  In my position at the guest ranch I am expected to be able to do any job that pertains to guest services.  This meant that when my packing list was e-mailed to me I received 4 separate lists including the cook's, the server's, the housekeeper's, and the horseback guide's lists.  Most were reasonably straight forward for anyone who has worked in remote tourism outfits before (my bread and butter);the standard work and play clothes, rain gear and swim wear, 6 months worth of shampoo and tampons and some kind of hobby to keep you busy in the wilderness when you aren't working, which is rarely.  I was, however, slightly alarmed by the luggage that the guides would be expected to bring.  In hind-sight, I really should have been prepared for the list including items like cowboy hat, rodeo style belt buckle, tailored western button-up shirts, wrangler jeans, Man From Snowy River style oil skin slicker and cowboy boots, just to mention a few things that I had never considered owning.  But no, I hadn't even considered that I might be completely and utterly out of my element riding the range with experienced cow-people on a full-on ranch in the middle of nowhere.  I was entering a new world and hadn't even thought to buy the 'simple Cowboy-speak' phrase book.  Shopping for ranch clothing and accessories felt like halloween in April and showed me just how little I had thought of the whole western side of this new job, but with a little help from some good friends I put together a somewhat reasonable ranch girl get-up.  All I could do was cross my fingers and hope that I wouldn't show up looking like a tourist who bought a whole new wardrobe to fit in somewhere totally exotic.  I had images of myself as a cowboy version of those people in tacky safari photos wearing all khaki and tilly hats with huge cameras hanging from their necks…It felt like the first day at a new school: "Please let me look cool, please let me look cool".   

I rubbed my flashy new 'western style' work jacket in some dirt, crushed up my too-black cowgirl hat a bit, wore my stiff new boots constantly to give them that 'been around the ranch' look and set off for the land of country music, big trucks and horses!

The Ranch House where I'll be spending lots of time this summer!