In reading the Billings Gazette this morning I found this article on the true sheepherders of today...Years ago most in our area were of Basque or Spanish descent...They lived a lonely hard life- and even tho most spoke little English they were usually always happy to have company to talk to...
But something like this wouldn't make a good movie for the current Hollywood....
December 18, 2005
Last modified December 18, 2005 - 12:16 am
Winter rough on herder, flock
Associated Press
HELENA - After the herd of sheep and goats ambled across Interstate 15 via the Lincoln Road interchange, 28-year-old Peruvian shepherd Robert Ninahuanca and his 24-year-old nephew, Michael, opened the gate to a nearby pasture and let the animals go free.
That done, Robert leaned against the fence, feigning comfort, but he couldn't stand still. Record low temperatures had descended across the state. The sky spread deep and blue, and the air hung bitterly cold. Even the animals, a herd belonging to the Sieben Ranch Co., seemed a little irritated.
"The mornings are worse," Robert said, holding his hand against the glare while Michael folded his arms and turned his back to the sun. "Moving around not so bad. Standing still - cold."
The breeze this morning came so light and faint it would be imperceptible any other day. But Robert knows this isn't a typical day. At 15 degrees below zero, the breeze, no more than a whisper, cuts to the bone, painting their cheeks a ruby shade of red.
Neither shepherd has experienced a Montana winter. Back home in Peru, even at 10,000 feet, Robert said, the snow is rare and temperatures like this are never seen. When the clouds form, the moisture comes as rain.
Work in subzero weather
For most, starting a car on days like this might be the greatest of their weather-related challenges. But living in the cold, tending sheep and goats in subzero weather poses its own set of problems that no extension cord or engine heater can fix. Toss in 8 inches of crusted snow, and Robert's concern for the herd doubles.
"The snow is pretty hard," he said kicking at the frozen ground.
Robert removed two gloves from his left hand and began to paw at the frozen snow. This, he said, is how the sheep scratch their way through the ice to reach the turf - something the goats have trouble doing on their own.
While they were somewhat protected by their coat of fleece, the sheep weren't going anywhere fast. The goats were even more vulnerable with their wiry hair. They stayed close to their wooly counterparts for comfort.
In fact, the herd of 500 sheep and 400 goats looked surprisingly small, the animals pressed so tightly together in the center of the field. The animals on the outer rim of the herd had the misfortune of blocking the wind for the rest.
It pays to be in the middle, and that's where the sheep and goats aimed to be. They jockeyed for position, constantly shuffling as if engaged in a rugby scrum.
Robert and Michael just moved the herd to this field west of Interstate 15. It was a strange setting. A billboard for a convenience store was the only sprig of green to be seen this time of year. The Lincoln Road interchange looked oddly out of place rising above the fields. Even the subdivisions were closer than they were just three years ago.
Trial and error
Robert's bunkhouse looked like a 19th-century homestead pressed against a stand of leafless cottonwood trees. The irrigation pipes that fed this alfalfa field in the summer were turned off long ago. Icicles hung from the valves and hollow tubing.
Working in these conditions involves its share of trial and error. What not to wear can be a cruel lesson with unforgiving consequences.
Today they picked their wardrobe with care. Robert wore rubber galoshes over insulated boots. He looked a little like the Stay Puff Marshmallow Man with his insulated Carhartt overalls pulled snugly over three wool sweaters and two pairs of pants. He wore two pairs of socks, two pairs of gloves, a scarf and a wool cap.
Michael was dressed much the same. But in the place of galoshes he wore winter boots fit for a space traveler. He wore his reflective vest, a safety precaution when stopping traffic to move sheep and goats.
"Sometimes we have to move sheeps to other camp," Michael said. "Very cold. Very slow. The sheeps don't like to walk."
'Too wet, too cold'
The herd settled in amid the snow and frozen alfalfa stems. Robert gave the dogs a good scratch between the ears. Hurricane, Tattoo and Gabi are a playful lot. Tattoo is but a puppy that follows the seasoned sheep dogs through the snow.
The sheep and goats penned, the dogs satisfied, Robert and Michael turned south. They cut the herd and moved toward the warmth of the bunkhouse to thaw their frozen cheeks, fingers and toes.
Across the interstate, Robert's older brother, Rolandos, secured a wide Roadrunner trailer to the back of a Chevy pickup. Three years ago, far above the Sieben Flats north of Helena, he spent the summer tending a herd of 1,400 sheep. The conditions then were kind, though the biting flies and mosquitoes came in place of the biting cold.
In the summer, Rolandos said, birthing and coyotes are the biggest threat to the ewes. In the winter, it's the weather itself. Last year, he said, as many as 10 ewes succumbed to the elements.
"Too wet," he said. "Too cold."
Some ewes drowned after falling through ice while trying to drink. Others got wet and froze.
The winters can be cruel and it's the job of the shepherd to get them through to spring.
Relaxing moments
"I'm not a herder anymore," Rolandos said proudly. "I'm the boss - the camp tender."
But when he paused to think of the differences, he admitted that he'd rather be a herder.
"It's better herding sheep," he nodded. "It's so relaxed. If your sheep are OK, then you relax. Being the boss is always busy."
Unlike his brother, Robert, who arrived in Montana last summer but skipped the winter, Rolandos has spent eight years here well north of the equator. He says he likes it just fine and doesn't mind the cold.
When Robert returns this week to Peru to visit his wife and children, Rolandos will welcome a new shepherd from Chile.
"Hopefully he likes the job," he said.
Rolandos said the herders are hired through a firm known as Western Range. The company maintains an office in both Peru and Chile. There, applicants must pass a herding test to qualify for the job. The qualifications include working sheep across the open range, delivering lambs, and having a willingness to live alone in remote places for extended periods.