Horses are still intertwined in the tapestry of the West

Photo: Curt Pate, a horse trainer and stockmanship expert, at his ranch in Ryegate, Montana. Xavier Martinez

Text and photos by Xavier Martinez

KAYCEE, Wyo. — It was well past dusk when the red Ford Super Duty carrying Curt Pate, his four dogs and a horse trailer pulled into the pen in Kaycee. Pate, wrinkled eyes weary from nearly nine hours of driving, stepped out of the door and coaxed out two horses. 

Pate had begun the day on a ranch near Denver, delivering a two-hour workshop on cattle handling. He and his horses had expertly corralled cattle while he gave advice on what angles to take and when to apply pressure on the herd. Then they set out on the road, continuing a trip through late spring’s green grasses and scattered wildflowers. Pate usually flew long distances over plains and mountains, but for this occasion he had brought his own horses to demonstrate the pivotal role the animals play in the beef industry.

Pate’s work provides a lens on the way the horse’s role in the economy and culture of the West has changed.

Raising horses at his ranch in Ryegate, Montana and honing their ability to work with cattle as their western forebears did is the fulcrum of Pate’s life. His work provides a lens on the way the horse’s role in the economy and culture of the West has changed. The evolution of the animal’s use began with Native tribes riding horses to hunt buffalo and herd cattle. Then came the cowboy days of cattle rustling in the 19th and early 20th century, a role that has diminished, but one that horses still play. 

That is where Pate comes in: he trains horses and their owners in stockmanship, the art of handling cattle in the most efficient way possible to preserve their health, improving their market value. His talents have made him a legend in the cattle-handling industry. He’s been everywhere from Iowa to Ireland to teach those who raise cattle at small operations and feedlots alike. His work also gives him a close-up view on horses’ continuing evolution into another role: helping recreate their past in the modern world.

For years, characters like Pate — and, more importantly, the horses they ride — have been central to keeping the horse part of an enduring image of the region. Media of every variety — from dime novels in the late 19th century to John Wayne movies like “Stagecoach” to television series like “Gunsmoke” and “Maverick” — have made the horse essential to the image of the West; an imposing creature, mane flowing in the breeze, smelling of sweat and dirt, often with a rider on a leather saddle, set against a backdrop of immense open space.

That aura persists, despite the profound transformation of the horse’s cultural and economic role. The consolidation of the beef industry has meant the number of cattle ranches have declined – now just four firms produce as much as 85 percent of the beef sold. So horses play a diminishing role in their traditional workplace. The country lost more that 106,000 cattle-raising operations during the past five years alone, according to the Department of Agriculture. Urban areas, where roughly 80 percent of the population lives, weren’t designed for horses. 

With cattle-raising operations greatly reduced, horses will have a new history

Today, horses can generate as much economic output when they are sold to a weekend rancher living in the Dallas metroplex, or to a dude ranch where they’ll be used daily trail rides, as they can on a working commercial ranch. And Pate, a self-described “horse optimist” who trains horse owners of every background imaginable, thinks that’s a good thing.

While horse ancestors did exist in North America 12,000 years ago, contemporary mustangs and appaloosa reached the continent on the boats of European colonizers, mostly from Spain.

Through the last four decades, Pate has watched as the horse market crashed and was slowly rebuilt, as ATVs and other technology threatened to supplant the horse, as wild horses decimated public and private lands across the West and as a new generation of western horseman grew up, focused on recreation and leisure rather than on the farm and ranch work he did when he first grew to love the animals.

While horse ancestors did exist in North America 12,000 years ago, contemporary mustangs and appaloosa reached the continent on the boats of European colonizers, mostly from Spain. The large, steady animals could outrun any human, carry hundreds of pounds of supplies; and pull auxiliary vehicles. They were essential to travel, construction, mining and combat. 

In the West, in the late 17th century, Pueblo Indians in what is now New Mexico revolted against their Spanish conquerors, who fled, leaving as many as 1,500 horses in tribal control. Over ensuing decades, horses became central to tribal culture and were traded amongst tribes or between tribes and European-descended settlers. They were used in attacks and looting, for hunting buffalo and transportation between settlements, and, eventually, to herd cattle.

Beginning in the 18th century, the horse culture among settlers in the eastern and western halves of America diverged, said Susan Nance, an animal historian from the University of Guelph in Ontario, Canada. In the East, which had more established settlements and a greater population density, wealthy landowners imported thoroughbred and trotter horses and competed on pedigree. But horses were also vital to the construction of early American cities, and to extraction of ore from mines.

European settlers treated horses as an expendable tool

Western ephemera lines the walls and windows of the Dude Ranchers Association’s Heritage and Education Center in Cody, Wyoming. Xavier Martinez

In relatively unpopulated areas of the West, settlers saw horses as an expendable tool rather than a creature deserving care. In the cattle drives that brought thousands of head from Texas to mines and railroad lines across the West, bands were left out for the winter; many starved. After the first thaw, cowboys collected the horses “like a natural resource,” Nance said.

But as word of the western horse’s talents spread, horse aficionados in the East made a point of looking down on the culture and created derogatory names, from “mongrel” to more racially-driven phrases, for the horses and those who used them. A greater share of horses in the East pulled carts across cobblestone downtowns or ran on Kentucky and Tennessee racetracks. In the 1920s, mustangs lost their cachet as cars replaced horse-drawn buggies. By the end of World War II, the densely-populated East had little need for their work. In the wide-open West, horses remained both useful to and emblematic of the region.

This workhorse image became embedded in the mental landscape of the rural West. Horses were war machines for Indigenous groups in westerns like “Red River,” getaway vehicles for cattle rustlers in Buffalo Bill Cody’s vaudeville theatrics, and a symbol of an awesome, untamable land in songs like the onetime Kaycee resident and rodeo champion Chris LeDoux’s “Caballo Diablo,” one of Pate’s favorites. They were as synonymous with the West as cowboy hats and gunfights.

“The animals are sort of around, but we’re not producing anything with them.”

Susan Nance, animal historian at the University of Guelph

Those defining images remained in literature and film long after they became outdated in reality. By the 1950s, few schoolchildren or workers commuted by horseback. People were more likely to see them at petting zoos or exhibitions than carrying a cowboy. Rodeos became a way to engage with horses in an almost antique fashion. “The animals are sort of around,” Nance, the historian, said. “But we’re not producing anything with them.”

Pate grew up in Helena, Mont. during this inflection point. He broke horses and drove cattle during his youth. It took him less than a year in college to realize that the pasture was his classroom. In the 1970s, inspired by Indigenous and equine-savvy forefathers who suggested that animals can be tamed through empathy and communication, he began teaching stockmanship, almost always using horses, and using them as generations of cowboys had done.

He and his wife, Tammy, settled in Ryegate, a small farming town an hour north of Billings along the same stretch of river that Chief Joseph led the Nez Perce and their appaloosa horses in the tribe’s doomed attempt to reach Canada. Pate traveled the world to offer horse and stockmanship consultations: he was flying back from a workshop in Ireland when his plane was grounded following the terrorist attacks on 9/11.

Often clad in his worn leather vest or denimfull “Canadian tuxedo,” Pate carries this image of a cowboy from state to state (he’s done workshops in all but two), country to country.

Citizen efforts to protect wild horses were hard on horse markets 

As Pate mastered his craft, the world around him changed. The reduced demand for workhorses set the stage for the emergence of hard-to-control, destructive herds of wild horses. Owners dumped their horses when the price of hay or other inputs rose to unsustainable levels. The discarded horses formed packs and reproduced at an uncontrollable pace, tearing up valuable rangeland and leading to a wild horse overpopulation that was most disruptive on lands managed by Indigenous groups and the Bureau of Land Management.

In the midst of a series of sometimes-violent wild horse roundups and vigilante purges by ranchers, animal rights activists began advocating for broad protections, using enticing images of sleek and powerful wild horses running free to bolster public support. Championed by Nevada resident Velma Bronn Johnston, better known as Wild Horse Annie, the Wild and Free-Roaming Horses and Burros Act was passed in 1971. Its stated aim was to protect, manage and control wild horses.

The reduced demand for workhorses set the stage for the emergence of hard-to-control, destructive herds of wild horses.

“It’s not something that was imposed by the bureaucrats in Washington,” said John Leshy, who worked in various capacities for the Department of the Interior during subsequent litigation. “It came out of the grassroots of Nevada.” Fifty-three years later, the number of wild horses has more than tripled, from 17,000 in 1971 to nearly 59,000 today; most are on public lands and half are in Nevada. Trying to manage them is a perennial headache for the Interior Department. 

Around the same time. opposition grew to the business of slaughtering horses. Slaughter was a way for ranchers to “get scrap from their horse, as they would a car,” said Jann Parker, horse sale manager at Billings Livestock Commission in Billings. In 2006 alone, more than 100,000 horses were taken to U.S. slaughterhouses, where meat was shipped to Europe and Japan and scraps like hides and bones were used in other production processes. 

But in 2007, the practice was banned in Illinois, home to the country’s last slaughterhouse. In September of that year the plant closed its doors for good. Coupled with the great recession that struck in 2008, the regulation “turned the horse market on its belly,” Parker said.

Sixteen years later, the horse sale at her Billings Livestock Commission (BLC) is recovering. Touting itself as the nation’s largest, it attracts buyers from across the globe. Its monthly offerings have sold upwards of 2,000 head and grossed millions of dollars. But before the turnaround, Parker, who has managed the sale of more than 190,000 horses in her 26 years at the helm, struggled to get by. 

“People were very well meaning in their efforts [to ban horse slaughter], but to this day have no idea how many people it broke,” Parker said. She remembered sitting down to write letters to sellers whose sale price of $50 was less than the cost of bringing the horse to market. Many horse owners abandoned their horses on public or tribal lands. When even that became too burdensome, they shot the animals.

Fifteen years after the 2008 market crash, horse populations are slowly coming back 

Exact data on horse populations does not exist, but year-to-year counts of American quarter horses can serve as a proxy. The stocky horses are known for their quick acceleration and are well suited to herding cattle. Both the population and the number of registered horses decreased beginning in the late 2010s. In 2020, for the first time since the market crash of 2008, the American Quarter Horse Association reported an year-over-year increase in the total number of horses. The count increased by about 2.2 percent to about 2.4 million – still fewer than the 2.8 million quarter horses counted in 2008.

The crash hit the horse market hard. The total number of horses sold in Billings dropped from more than 1,000 in the facility’s March 2008 auction to about 750 in March 2011. Parker’s operation was one of the luckier ones; while many livestock auctions stopped selling horses altogether, BLC maintained a partnership with a slaughterhouse in Fort McLeod, in Canada, which paid market rate during the worst of times.

“People were very well meaning in their efforts [to ban horse slaughter], but to this day have no idea how many people it broke.” 

Jann Parker, Billings Livestock Commission

Beyond the financial losses, Parker mourns more keenly the loss of institutional knowledge of ranchers who had to move away from the industry. “You’ll never replace those ranchers who use their horses every day. It’s a gone generation,” she said. Pate agrees. In the last 20 years, he’s seen a shift in the skill and experience level of both large-scale operations and small ranchers. He doesn’t blame them; rather, he feels this makes his job as ever-important — to revive skills in danger of disappearing. 

He’s not afraid to give a gentle correction to a wrangler who is pushing cattle with too much force, saying that the stress could degrade the end product: the meat. He doesn’t hesitate reminding his clients to “pull” in addition to pushing; that is, to create space for cattle to come toward the intended destination. And he’s not afraid to give compliments to those who do remember.

His clients listen, aware that they’re in the presence of an industry legend. After the Denver-area workshop, standing in line for lunch, he’s approached by a line of participants who thank him or mention previous events where they had seen him. “I’m just so happy I got to see you again before I die,” one said and he shook Pate’s hand. 

In ranching, horses are far from obsolete

There’s a reason why ATVs, which not so long ago were expected to be a replacement, haven’t taken horses’ place, despite the fact the machines cost less to maintain and sometimes buy. 

Despite the transformations, the most likely place to find a horse is still on a working ranch. Pate knows this because he’s visited hundreds. He’s seen the gentleness with which a horse’s subtle motion can cause a herd of cattle to move laterally while still staying together. He’s seen how a trot, then a gallop, can push the herd through pasture gates safely and efficiently. 

Horses can go places that no other domesticated animal can – up nearly sheer grades, through brambles and across rivers. There’s a reason why ATVs, which not so long ago were expected to be a replacement, haven’t taken horses’ place, despite the fact the machines cost less to maintain and sometimes buy. 

Commercial cattle ranches are just one place where western horses exist in abundance. Dude ranches, offering all-inclusive stays at picturesque locations around the West, rely on horses. At UXU Ranch, just miles from the eastern gate of Yellowstone National Park, co-owner John Hoskin treasures his 30 horses. They aren’t expensive, but they’re a primary reason guests pay $3,000 apiece for five days of life disconnected from the internet in prime grizzly-bear territory. 

“People pay a lot of money to get the true western experience,” Hoskin explains in front of a firepit a week before opening for the season last May. The most important piece of that experience? Daily horseback rides along wildflower-lined trails led by ranch hands, including some who have worked at bona fide ranches like King Ranch in Texas. Each guest is paired with a horse, which creates a bond and keeps his customers coming back. The horses are so essential to the business that, when a ranch hand forgets to mention the hay supply is nearly out, Hoskin considers firing them. 

Dude ranches have been around since the late 1800s, according to Colleen Hodson, the recently-retired former director of the Dude Ranchers Association, a trade group in Cody, Wyo. Originally designed to attract visitors from the East Coast, they’ve evolved to offer a luxury western experience. “A lot of people are just looking for a connection with a horse,” Hodson says.

The “Yellowstone effect?” Popular culture drives interest in horsemanship 

In the last five years, the horse market stabilized, then grew rapidly. Pate saw prices balloon to $50,000 or more for horses that usually sold for a fraction of that amount. At the Billings Livestock Commission, Jann Parker, too, has seen the growth in horse prices, and puts it down in part to a “Yellowstone effect” of increased visibility of western life thanks to the popular television show. 

At the Billings sale, the number of available horses never fully recovered; the supply shortage created a seller’s market. In March 2008, the sale grossed $987,000 from 1,021 head — about $966 per head. In March 2021, the most recent data provided by the company, the company sold 489 horses for $1.5 million — more than $3,000 per head. Ponies, which don’t usually cost more than $5,000, were “on fire” last May, with one breaking $10,500.

Parker knows that the horses are being used for more diverse purposes. She’s had buyers from San Diego looking for cheap horses that can be used for beachside walks. She has sent horses to North Carolina and Texas, where they’ll spend more time standing in their pens than doing any work. And she’s sold prime horses to champion jackpot-winning team ropers. 

In response to these changes, Parker has developed a catchphrase. “One person’s good is not another person’s good,” she said from her office shortly after Pate passed by on his return to Ryegate. “You can’t stop the way the world works, you just have to roll with it,” she said.

The shift in the use of horses has spurred a revitalization in the way they are portrayed in popular culture. “Nope,” a film released in 2022, focuses on how Los Angeles became a place to create an artificial West in studios and on movie ranches. This summer, concertgoers around the country donned pink cowboy hats and boots in theme with queer, Midwestern and rapidly-ascending pop star Chappell Roan.

Though Pate is a traditionalist, he appreciates the diversity, and cracks jokes about horse culture seeping into every crevice of modern society. Throughout his workshops—and even in private conversations—he returns to one central message: there is no single horse culture. Rather, the knowledge he passes on is a mosaic of hundreds of years of contributions from all corners of the West.

He’s just as interested in taking jobs at multimillion-dollar second homes in Colorado, where the owners know next to nothing about horsemanship, as he is in the traditional working ranches scattered across the country and the globe.

In the midst of the changes, Pate is totally comfortable with his work and the culture it preserves. When he finally arrives home to his ranch, he takes the cattle out to pasture on horseback. He drives his hay-plastered ATV over to his cabin, where the old wood stove sits like a sentinel, puts the dogs in their kennels, and watches “as the sun goes down and the sky all turns orange.”

 

 

Edited by Felicity Barringer and Geoff McGhee.