Tag Archives: ryan t bell

Comrade Cowboy, Part 3

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When a horse goes missing from Stevenson Sputnik Ranch, the cowboys’ quest to find it becomes a matter of life-and-death in a way they least expected.

Story and photography by Ryan T. Bell

A rumbling sound came from the direction of Shestakovo. Low at first, it became earsplitting as a MiG-29 jet appeared on the horizon. It flew a high G-force circle so close overhead I could see the serial numbers stenciled on its fuselage. Wayne Walter, my partner for the summer, and I sat our horses and watched the plane make four thunderous passes. Either the ranch was under surveillance, or the rumors were true that a regional MiG squadron would perform an air show at the 2014 Winter Olympic Games. The attempt at tracing Olympic rings in the sky looked like the loop-de-loops you draw on a piece of paper to get a ballpoint pen’s ink to flow. Good thing they had three years to practice. Continue reading →

Hang On, Cowboy

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All you need is a horse and a pair of skis to enjoy skijoring, a 100-year old sport.

Skiing and horseback riding. They’re like pickles and peanut butter; don’t knock it until you try it. I was raised on peanut butter and pickle sandwiches, so I never had a choice about that. But last winter in Russia, Montana cowboy Kraig Sweeney told me to hop in a calf sled for a ride.

“Let’s go skijoring,” he said.

Let’s go ski-whatty? Continue reading →

Bear Country Horseman

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There are valuable lessons for horsemen in the aftermath of a deadly bear attack in Yellowstone National Park.

In July 2010, Kipp Saile of Rockin’ HK Outfitters lead six riders on the Pebble Creek Trail in the northeastern corner of Yellowstone National Park. The trail scissored through the trees, paralleling the creek, and then entered a clearing where Kipp saw an unusual sight: a grizzly sow with three cubs. Kipp knew that grizzlies often give birth to twins – dual offspring are nature’s way of ensuring the species’ survival. Yet, in 18 years of guiding the Yellowstone backcountry, Kipp had never seen or heard of a grizzly with triplets. He took out his cell phone and snapped a picture just as the bear family scampered into the woods. When the coast was clear, Kipp resumed the ride. Continue reading →

Comrade Cowboy, Part 2

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For seven Montana cowboys working in Russia last winter, a one-hour shift during the peak of calving encapsulated everything they struggled with: the language barrier, the cultural clashes, the terrible weather and the challenge of teaching Russians a lifetime of cowboy knowledge in only 60 days.

Story and photography by Ryan T. Bell

Hell broke loose on schedule at Stevenson Sputnik Ranch. We called it the “witching hour,” every night between 6 and 7 p.m., when a dozen expecting cows dropped their calves at once. To deal with the onslaught, Darrell Stevenson, the boss, assigned two cowboys to ride through the cow herd searching for newborns. They would shuttle them to the calving barn where the rest of us, three Montanans and a crew of Russian villagers, bedded them down in warm hay.

This would be hard work under normal circumstances, but on the night of January 23, 2011, a raging blizzard dumped a foot of snow on top of the two-foot deep blanket already covering the Russian steppes. Any calf born that night didn’t stand a chance if we didn’t get to it fast. Continue reading →

Comrade Cowboy, Part 1

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Montana rancher Darrell Stevenson teams up with two Russian cattlemen to export an entire cow outfit to the Russian steppes. In the first of a three-part series, the author rides along with the Stevenson cowboys to the land of borscht, fallow land and the $75 steak dinner.

By Ryan T. Bell

In the Judith Basin of central Montana nuclear missile silos pockmark the ground like an atomic-age prairie dog town. They were installed in the 1960s, at the height of the Cold War with Russia. Of course, the Soviet Union crumbled in 1991 and most of the missiles are now deactivated. But Cold War phobias live-on in the psyche of cowboys that ride herd amidst the sleeping giants of havoc.

That’s why it was shocking for locals to learn that Judith Basin rancher Darrell Stevenson was taking 1,434 cattle, 5 Quarter Horses and a team of cowboys to start a ranch in Russia. Continue reading →

Tick Riders

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For a group of cowboys hired by the USDA, patrolling for stray cattle carrying a deadly tick species has become increasingly dangerous along the hostile Texas-Mexico border.

Story and photography by Ryan T. Bell

The international border between Texas and Mexico is a hot zone – in more ways than one. Climatically, high temperatures break 100 degrees for months at a time. Politically, the boundary is rife with tensions over immigration and drug trafficking from Mexico. And biologically, the region is home to one of the largest disease hot zones in the world, the “fever tick quarantine zone.”

The 700-mile long quarantine zone follows the Rio Grande River from Amistad Reservoir (near the Texas boot heel) to the Gulf of Mexico. It acts as a buffer against the spread of the tick boophilus annulatus, a.k.a. the “fever tick.” This dastardly arachnid sucks the lifeblood out of horses and cattle, and spreads the deadly disease bovine piroplasmosis.

Patrolling the area are 61 Texas cowboys known as Tick Riders, hired by the U.S. Department of Agriculture to round up stray livestock that transport the ticks from Mexico. That most Americans haven’t heard of the Tick Riders is a testament to how well they do their job. If fever ticks infiltrated the quarantine zone, the nation would know because cattle and horses would die by the thousands. Continue reading →

March 2011 “Western Horseman”

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Travels with Charlie
Western art comes to life on the Charles M. Russell Trail in northern Montana.

Hobble How-To’s
Train your horse to master the essential skill of wearing hobbles.

Joel Nelson: The Horses and the Words

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Story by Ryan T. Bell/ Photography by Ross Hecox

West Texas horseman Joel Nelson reflects on the poetic life and how it feels to be a man who has willingly submitted to his muse.

On an unseasonably cool July morning in the Davis Mountains of southwest Texas, Joel Nelson drives through a pasture of Corriente cattle. He recently drilled a well in the pasture, so he’s checking to make sure that water is flowing properly before the heat of the day arrives to parch the cattle.

Maybe it’s the repetitive nature of the chore, but Nelson is in a pensive frame of mind. He recites a favorite quote by the poet Stanley Kunitz:

“If we want to know what it felt like to be alive at any given moment in the long odyssey of the race, it is to poetry we must turn.”

“Boy,” he says, “that nails what poetry means in about as few words as you could hope to get it said in.”

Continue reading →