Sheep Camp

November is the month when sheep usually come into our valley for winter grazing. In the old days, it was a rush to bring sheep from more populated areas along the Wasatch Front in Utah out to our isolated valley. There would be one or two sheepherders for each 2,000 sheep. A sheepherder would live out of his wagon, going to a rural store every few weeks to get supplies. Otherwise, it was him, the sheep, his horse, and his dogs. A pretty solitary life.

Today it's still a fairly solitary life for sheepherders. Not many people want to do it, and sheep operators often have to recruit men from other countries to be sheep herders. We see quite a few Peruvians come to this area, spending a year or two watching sheep before they go back to see their families.

Our ranch doesn't raise sheep anymore and hasn't for quite awhile, but we still have this old sheep wagon. The other day I decided to take a peek at it to try to get some insight into what it was like being a sheep herder.

The interior is sort of like an ultra-mini-RV. There's a bed, folding tables, and built in seats with storage space underneath.

One big difference from today's RVs is the presence of this coal/wood burning stove. Because sheep herders are out in these wagons on the desert valleys in the winter, it can get really cold. Sometimes they even get trapped by blizzards for days at a time.

Here's a wider view of the "kitchen/living area" of the sheep wagon. A sheep herder really doesn't have room for a lot of extra stuff.

There are some compartments on the outside of the sheep wagon, like this one for coal. There's a big one under the bed for spare tires, fuel, and other equipment. Often a separate wagon is left next to the sheep wagon carrying hay for the horse.

The wagons are simply built. A back window is a bit of a luxury. There are no shocks on the chassis, so everything has to be well secured before moving the wagon to a new location. Nowadays, the wagon is moved every week or two as the sheep continue moving to graze available forage.

The wagon above is obviously old, and you're probably wondering if sheep herders still live so primitively.

The answer is no. This is a newer sheep wagon. It still has small windows, a small shape, lots of storage compartments, and a wood burning stove. But it also has solar panels. 

An Unexpected Visitor

 I glanced out the window Saturday morning and noticed a sheep wandering in through the gate towards the cookhouse. I did a double take. A sheep? I wasn't hallucinating, was I? I didn't have any flowers blooming so I didn't need to race outside. I shook my head, wondering if that would make it go away. Then I got distracted by something (or someone) else for a little while. A few minutes later I opened our front door (which is really the side door, but as the front door opens directly onto one precious piece of unstained carpet, we rarely use it), and saw the sheep was on our front steps.

Hello? 
Are you selling something? 
Do you have pamphlets to distribute? 
Do I know you?

For some reason the sheep didn't answer me, but he (and it was obviously a he) didn't give me any pamphlets either. He also didn't run away, which surprised me. Perhaps he didn't run partly because our dear dog Henry was so busy sunbathing in the driveway that he didn't even notice the sheep approach. (Note to would-be robbers: he does bark every time someone drives into our driveway, so if you want to rob us of our wonderful collection of toy trains, kids' books, and broken crayons, come disguised as a sheep and you will be able to get right in.)

 I moved around to get some different photo angles. The sheep was content to stay put.

 In our few minutes of acquaintance, I was getting fond of the old guy. I mean, what's not to like with the grass hanging from the shaggy wool, the dirt-stained nostrils, and that nearly comatose demeanor?

I got bored before the sheep did, and since I didn't know what to do with a sheep on my front steps (would you know what to do?) I went back into the house and did something or other. But I couldn't resist going back outside to check on the sheep. It wasn't on the front steps anymore.

 Now it was in the flower garden. If the flowers had been blooming, I might have been a wee bit upset. Okay, it would have been a lot more than a wee bit. But at this time of year, I was hoping that the sheep might be helping to push some seeds from the native flax into the ground to enhance their chances of germination. So I didn't chase him out. Plus, he was just so darn cute.

 Henry had woken up from his stupor by now and gave a few half-hearted barks. The sheep didn't seem to care. Henry went back to the driveway and laid down to resume his sunbathing. Life is good when you're a relaxed black lab.

 This was about the extent of concern that the sheep showed. It kept standing there and again I got bored, so I went back in the house. As I was cleaning in the kitchen, I peeked out the window and found that the sheep had moved to another part of the yard.

 Yep, I guess that sheep was ready to play!

I still didn't know what to do with a sheep in the yard, so I just ignored it. When my husband came home for lunch, he said we should get it out. (Hmmm, who woulda thought?) Lucky for us, it wandered through the gate and headed for the neighbors. (In case you're wondering, towards the neighbors with the crazy bull. Those neighbors apparently just attract weird animal behavior!)

I did wonder where the sheep had come from, and this morning I saw that the sheepherders had moved their camp to just above town. I also noticed something else that might have caused a distraction to the sheepdogs that usually keep the sheep in line. Can you spot the distraction in the photo below?

 Here's a close-up to help you out:

 The cutest little sheepdog puppies! I counted seven of them, and they were all so adorable.

 The mama came bounding up to the truck and I recognized her as the same dog that had greeted us last week on our adventure walk where we collected the bones for Henryosaurus. I rolled down the window (which usually isn't recommended with sheepdogs), and she was happy to let me pet her and say sweet things and compliment her on her gorgeous pups. I was wondering what her calorie requirements were to nurse seven pups. Yikes!

 The pups ventured towards us a bit to check us out.

The mama sheepdog might be a little hampered protecting sheep right now, but before long she's going to have a big bunch of helpers!

Traffic Jam on a Seventy-Mile Stretch of Road without Services

 When you're driving on a seventy-mile stretch of road with no services, no stoplights, no stop signs, and only one house, you don't expect to slam on the brakes. But that's exactly what I had to do when I saw that the road was blocked by traffic. It wasn't exactly the traffic you see most places. This was a huge flock of sheep.

Open-range laws are in effect here, where the sheep have the right-of-way. The open range goes back in history. Until barbed wire was invented in the 1870s, it was much easier to fence places where you wanted to keep livestock out, rather than to keep them in. Gradually practices changed, but there are still a few places in the American West where you can find open range.

 I didn't mind stopping and watching the sheep pass by. I think sheep are kind of cute!

 It was a steady stream of sheep crossing the road.

 Occasionally a brown sheep passed by. The sheep owner usually puts in one brown sheep for every 25 or 50 white sheep so they can be counted more easily. Also, an occasional sheep has on a sheep bell, ringing loudly as the sheep moves so that the sheepherder can follow the sheep by sound.

 One sheepherder, along with a couple dogs, can easily move a couple thousand sheep. Many of the sheepherders these days come from Peru and Mexico. About a hundred years ago, many of them came from Basque country in northern Spain, which accounts for the large number of Basque restaurants in places like Elko, Nevada.

After all the sheep had crossed the road, a large sheep dog followed casually. The sheep dogs help protect the sheep and are often a little scary, but this one was friendlier than usual. Still, I wouldn't want to get out of the vehicle.

Well, our little traffic jam only lasted about five minutes. I could easily live with that. Our quick stop also reinforced that you shouldn't go anywhere without your camera!

Herding Sheep

As I was driving down the highway, I noticed something out of the ordinary--hundreds of white objects moving on the hillside. As I got closer, I saw it was a herd of sheep. This is sheep country out here, and every winter sheepherders bring thousands of sheep. The sheep are good at using the snow for moisture (unlike cattle, which need water). Thus  the sheep can survive in remote places in the desert, far from water as long as there is some snow. 

This big white dog is a sheep dog (sometimes referred to as a livestock guardian dog). The most common types of sheep dog in this area are the Pyrenees or Akbash. They are strong and loyal, and they always stay with the sheep, protecting them from predators like coyotes. They also protect them from strange humans, so it's never a good idea to get out of your car near a big sheep dog--you're liable to get bitten because you're seen as a threat.

Here's the sheepherder on his horse at the back of the herd. With him are several border collies. They are extremely helpful moving the sheep, with their herding instinct kicking in. The border collies stay with the sheepherder, returning to his camp at night. They are loyal to him, doing what he says.

If you look closely at the sheep, you'll notice they aren't all white. A brown sheep is put in for every 25 or 50 sheep (depending on the herd). The brown sheep allow for the sheepherder to quickly count the herd by counting them and then multiplying by 25 or 50.

The sheep are moved every couple of days so they don't overgraze any one area. Often the sheep are ready to move on, making it a bit easier to move them. 

They graze on the way, their thick winter coats protecting them from the elements. They will be sheared in April by sheep shearers that come all the way from New Zealand and Australia. (I will try to have a post about that when they come.)

Being a sheepherder is a lonely, but relatively peaceful life. It definitely involves lots of fresh air and sunshine. Most of the sheepherding is done far from roads, requiring the old-style skills of managing a horse and dogs. I admire the sheepherders--I don't think I could do that job for even one day.

Raising a 4-H Lamb

 Desert Boy decided to raise a lamb for 4-H again this year. At the conclusion of the fair last year, he was decidedly against it, but he changed his mind. The second year was definitely easier, as we knew some of what to expect. Sheep are social animals, so we bought two so they could keep each other company. One of our big changes from last year was a different feed. Last year we started them on the feed the buyer recommended, but then we couldn't find it again within a three-hour drive, and the sheep didn't like the substitute feed and didn't eat for awhile. This year we just started them off with IFA Show Lamb feed, and they liked it fine (except for the cottonseed part, that was always the last part they ate). We were able to get IFA Show Lamb feed at both the Delta and Ely IFA stores, which made it very convenient.

The lambs grew quickly. We've learned it's best not to give them names, so we just called them 141 and 144, the numbers on their ear tags.

We let them do a lot of browsing in the yard. They loved that.

The kids walked them every day to try and get them tamer. They walked well on a halter, but did not mind well when the kids held onto their heads.

I did a quick first shear, which was a lot harder than I thought, than my husband did a second shear. That helped them keep cooler in the summer.


They always look quite a bit different without their big coats on!

Here the kids are washing the sheep. What do you wash a sheep with? Why, Woolite, of course!

We had a sheep showmanship clinic in our yard with some of the other 4-H participants. It was great to get all the sheep together.

Gwendy had them go around in a circle.

And then line up for "judging." All the sheep looked good.

We still had the final shear to go. It turned out to be rainy, so we had to go into the shop. Desert Boy sheared most of his sheep.

It's hard work, so it was nice to have a bunch of helping hands.

Then we headed to the fair. Desert Girl didn't really enjoy the showmanship clinic there. She's still too young to show her sheep for 4-H as a market animal, but she could show the alternate in Cloverbud Showmanship and as an open class animal.

Melanie's an expert and had her sheep in tip-top shape.

Then it was time for the competition. First came the market class competition. Desert Boy's sheep weighed in at 140 pounds, the maximum allowed for the competition. Last year his was 101 pounds, so we did a much better job this year at feeding!

It took a while to get the sheep judged.

But Desert Boy and Larissa both got blue ribbons! (In the carcass competition, Desert Boy got fifth and Larissa got grand champion, showing that their lambs were excellent for eating.)

Next came showmanship, and unfortunately Desert Boy's sheep didn't cooperate. Neither did Desert Girl's. She was in tears. We took a break, went and ate, got a quick swim in at the nearby hotel pool, then returned.

She was in time for showing her lamb in open class and got Reserve Grand Champion. That made all the tears go away and a big smile come out!

The next morning was the sale. Desert Boy had a great smile on to show his sheep.

Until it threw him to the ground. Sheep look friendly, but this one weighed about double his weight and was a bit feisty.

It was a little extra excitement for the spectators.

Thanks so much to Gary Perea and the Border Inn for buying Desert Boy's sheep. And thanks to Sahara Motors, Simplot, and Suburban Propane for the add-ons. The money Desert Boy raised will go into his college account.

Later in the day, Desert Boy loaded his sheep onto the trailer to go to the butcher. He wasn't really sad this year because the lamb hadn't been particularly nice to him.

Desert Girl's lamb came home with us for a couple more weeks and hung out with the dog as much as she could. Then it was time for her to go to the butcher.

4-H has been a great way for the kids (and me) to learn more about raising market animals. Some of it's easy, but there are definitely tricks to getting the best market animal out of the group. If you ever want to buy some great animals, I highly recommend going to a 4-H auction. Those animals are so well taken care of, and the money goes to individuals instead of big faceless corporations.