Grant-Kohrs Ranch Foundation

 Originally researched, authored and posted by Patricia Nell Warren  on March 15, 2017

SPRINGTIME TRAIL DRIVES. Back in the day, masses of livestock could start moving as soon as the weather warmed up and rivers were swimmable. For the Grant-Kohrs Ranch, these were often herds that Kohrs had purchased the previous fall and were now being delivered. In his autobiography he described some of the first of these drives: "In the spring of 1874, I received the cattle I had contracted for the previous fall in the Bitter Root and Deer Lodge Valleys. The cattle were cheap, those in Bitter Root costing only ten dollars per head and four-year-old steers in the Deer Lodge Valley, twenty dollars.

"Tom Hooban [one of the foremen] had charge of the herd of 2300 head that had been bought in Missoula and had been wintered at Father Van Gorp's at St. Ignatius Mission and other parts of the Bitter Root Valley. He took them up to Bitter Root, across the range to the Big Hole, then over to Horse Prairie and on to Cheyenne, by way of Snake River and Soda Springs. Tom drove his herd from Green River south over an old road called the Cherokee Trail. He had one long drive of thirty-five miles without water.

"Mitch [surname Oxarart, another foreman] brought over a small herd from Sun River, picked up the cattle we had bought in Deer Lodge, making a herd of 2000 head. He followed almost the same route to Cheyenne. Mitch came up the Bitter Creek trail and also had a long drive without water.

"The steers from this herd were the first I shipped to Chicago and sold mostly to feeders.... The young stuff I disposed of to cattlemen in Laramie City. The outfits came back with the wagon and horses about December 1st."

In short, these springtime operations took most of the year to complete, with herds toiling slowly along so they would have time to graze and hold their weight. These were among the first drives to ship Northwest cattle from Cheyenne via the new railroad. With meat sales waning in the mining camps, the new idea was to export local beef into markets outside of the Northwest.

Kohrs mentions in passing that he rode the train to Chicago with the cattle, and returned home to Montana via overland stagecoach.

Quote from "Conrad Kohrs: An Autobiography," edited by Conrad K. Warren (Platen Press, Deer Lodge, 1977). Photo from Grant-Kohrs Ranch NHS archives

Originally researched, authored and posted by Patricia Nell Warren on June 05, 2016.

THE SPRING MOVE. It's a rhythm that has moved the livestock business for centuries and still survives in the U.S. today, especially with producers of grass-fed beef. If you've wintered cattle close to home and hay supply, you've got to move to fresh pasture in spring. Ranches that produce grass-fed beef, like the Grant-Kohrs Ranch NHS, still follow this rhythm. If you've wintered them on your hayfields, you have to free up the hayfields to be irrigated and produce the summer crop.

During the Kohrs-Bielenberg era of the ranch, the spring move usually involved taking delivery of large herds of young animals from outside Montana. The herds had been contracted the fall before. Under supervision of a foreman, these cattle were moved slowly overland, along a route that often involved swimming rivers that were up with spring melt, to a designated range. There they'd spend the next two or three years of their lives maturing into what Conrad Kohrs called "fine and smooth." At that stage, the fall roundup would sort them out for shipping.

During the Warren era, when the Grant-Kohrs Ranch was operating on a vastly reduced acreage, the spring move was off the home-ranch hayfields to a 4000-acre summer range on the east side of the Deer Lodge Valley, comprising several large pastures along the bench and foothills of the Boulder Mountains. As a kid, I participated in those drives -- through the outskirts of Deer Lodge to Burnt Hollow Road, where the herd of cows and calves could strike that county road up into the hills to what we called "cow camp." There the cows were sorted into several breeding herds on the different pastures, each with its herd bull.

Many of the U.S.'s livestock pioneers were immigrant Europeans who brought old strategies for stock management with them from the old country. In Europe today, despite that continent's intensely high development, there are still agricultural regions where this age-old tidal movement of stock is happening each spring and fall. In parts of Spain, there are still legally designated rights-of-way for herds to follow from their winter strongholds to summer grazing.

The Alps are still a major focus of the practice, which supports a dairy and cheese industry that keeps this distinctive region's economy afloat. In fact, the word "alp" originally meant "summer pasture." In Switzerland, Bavaria, Austria, Slovenia and Italy, cattle and sheep are sheltered down in the alpine valleys in winter, close to feed storage. In spring they are moved up to the summer pastures at higher altitudes. This enduring pattern was established back in the Middle Ages. So a lot of colorful local history and tradition surrounds these moves. Indeed, wars have sometimes been fought over the rich pastures.

These seasonal moves can also be found in the Pyrenees, Scandinavia and parts of England, Scotland and Ireland.

(Photo from Grant-Kohrs Ranch NHS archives)

Originally researched, authored and posted by Patricia Nell Warren on February 24, 2016

MILITARY INFLUENCE ON COWBOYING. This beautiful 1906 photo shows us the Kohrs-Bielenberg beef roundup in the Big Dry that fall. All the different elements of the roundup were positioned for the photo op. In the family oral tradition, many of these elements were tagged with standard military terms of the day, since the Army was a long-time expert at moving large numbers of wagons and animals. Men who had previously done military service brought these terms over into ranching. That definitely included Conrad Kohrs, who had served briefly as an army hostler when he was a teen in Europe, before he went to sea. His brother Henry Kohrs, and stepfather Claus Bielenberg, had also seen combat during Holstein's conflicts with Denmark. Charles Bielenberg served in the Union Army during the American Civil War.  

In this picture, we see the horses in their rope corral, which the family referred to as the "cavvy," short for cavalry. The wagon carrying the outfit's field kitchen and food supplies was called the "mess wagon," not the chuck wagon as commonly done today. The tents where cowboys and visitors slept were the typical style of tents used by the U.S. Army at that time. Beyond, the herd was being kept quiet and resting in place by riders posted all around the perimeter.

At that moment, the Big Dry roundup was getting ready to move out. The cook's fire was still going, maybe for a last cup of coffee for the visiting owners, but his wagon was almost loaded and his team was hitched. First to depart would be the mess wagon, since the cook needed a head start for the next camp, where he'd need to cut wood, start his fire and prepare the next meal. Behind him, the herd and the cavvy would be organized into columns, military style, with the lead animals being referred to the "point." The middle of the herd was the "swing," and the rear, with all the dust and slower-moving animals, was the "drag." The front riders had only to "point" the leaders along the chosen route, and the rest would follow.

Last but not least -- a fact not visible in the picture -- most roundups maintained an army-inspired chain of command, to make sure things went smoothly. For a roundup pool involving several ranches, the owners got together and designated one respected foreman as the equivalent of field commander. Given the dangers inherent in range roundups -- the risk to men's lives and to financial investments -- there were rules to be followed out there, and the range "commander's" word was law.

(Photo by Montana frontier photographer L.A. Huffman, later hand-colored by Montana artist Shorty Shope, who was commissioned to do so by Conrad Warren)

Originally researched, authored and posted by Patricia Nell Warren on DECEMBER 30, 2015

CLOSING THE BOOKS. In the final days of a year, the ranch was always careful to update its books and close out the year. Here is an 1887 page on DHS expenses for roundup pools, in the handwriting of Granville Stuart. Kohrs & Bielenberg had a majority interest in the DHS until the early 1900s, through the Pioneer Cattle Company. The motive for detailed bookkeeping was not only for tax preparation (income taxing had been creeping in since the Civil War, and was firmly established by 1913, with the Sixteenth Amendment), but also for protecting the legacy of ranch history -- a duty that was already keenly felt during those pioneering years.

Unfortunately little business information from the Grant era has been preserved at the ranch. By his own admission, Grant didn't keep books. So the little we know about Grant's finances comes from mentions in his autobiography. But German orderliness arrived with the Kohrses and Bielenbergs. As a result, ledger books and records of all sorts -- letters, payrolls, pedigrees, photographs, etc. for ranching, mining and real estate -- were kept preserved in a growing archive. This habit continued through the Warren era as well, with Con Warren's own meticulous handwritten ledgers. At the end of every year, Warren always carefully completed his books for the year, so he could deliver them to his tax preparers in Helena early in the new year.

As a result, we can get an intimate picture of how the ranch was run through its century and a half of operations, and its economic ups and downs. Some of these records still reside in the collection at the Grant-Kohrs Ranch today; others can be found in the Mansfield Collection at University of Montana (http://archiveswest.orbiscascade.org/ark:/80444/xv22917), as well as at the Montana Historical Society. (National Park Service photo)

Originally researched, authored and posted by Patricia Nell Warren on September 28, 2015.

Continuing the thread of swimming a herd -- now and then, in extreme circumstances, the leadership of a herd's "point" animals can break down. In his autobiography, Conrad Kohrs put a single terse paragraph about his desperate efforts in the fall of 1886 to evacuate his Flatwillow herd and some DHS cattle to a Canadian grazing lease where they'd have more abundant feed during what was threatening to be a hard winter. He wrote: "The [Missouri] river was bad and only a few crossed. These had to be left in the Little Rockies as it was too late to take them across the line."

In short, the bulk of this large herd looked out at the Big Muddy ripping along and even as their most intrepid buddies crossed, the rest refused to wade in. So they stayed on that drought-stricken Montana range south of the Missouri, where feed was scarce -- and died by the thousands during the blizzards that started in November.

(Photo from Grant-Kohrs Ranch NHS archives)

Originally researched, authored and posted by Patricia Nell Warren on September 14, 2015.

 END OF THE TRAIL. The "drag" of a Grant-Kohrs herd crossing the Missouri after the 1910 beef roundup. This would have been one of the last herds to go to market from the ranch -- one of the "remnants" mentioned by Kohrs in his memoirs. Crossing the Missouri probably meant that the Northern Pacific was getting the ranch's business for this shipment, as the Kohrs/Bielenberg range lay south of the Missouri and the NP "high line" ran north of the river.

Swimming a herd always had the potential for danger. Kohrs's memoirs tell several stories of hairy crossings, including one in which he himself came close to being drowned. A sudden fall rainstorm upstream would mean that the river was suddenly "up" and ripping along. The herd leaders would refuse to wade in, and the rest would start milling behind them. Pushing it in a borderline situation could mean losses of men and animals. So the outfit might elect to wait till the river went down, or the trail boss might choose another shipping point.

Fortunately for this picture, the river was quiet, and the cattle were crossing without hesitation. (Photo from Grant-Kohrs Ranch NHS photo archives)

 Originally researched, authored and posted by Patricia Nell Warren on September 4, 2015.

STORY OF A PICTURE. This breathtaking image of one of the last Grant-Kohrs roundups on open range was created by frontier photographer L.A. Huffman around 1906. It captures a moment when cattle are gathered and the outfit is getting ready to swing that big herd towards the nearest railroad siding. The location was an area known to old timers as the Big Dry -- meaning Big Dry Creek, a tributary of the Missouri near today’s town of Jordan in eastern Montana.  

Huffman created this aerial view from the top of a nearby hill, where he had laboriously transported his equipment -- tripod, large-format box camera and glass plates. As with a “cast of thousands” scene for a movie, this "cast" had to assemble itself for his shot. Some 2900 head were held quietly on the flat, with riders posted around the herd. The cavvy still lazed in their rope corral, and the camp tents were still up. But the mess wagon, always the first to move out, had its team hitched, and the cook was getting ready to put out his fire. The range boss was nearby, holding his mount, keeping an eye on it all.

By 1915 Kohrs and Bielenberg had largely dispersed most of their livestock holdings. Western ranching was transitioning into new ways of doing things. Big roundups like this became "history."

The original black-and-white Huffman photo was Con Warren’s favorite item in the ranch’s large photo collection. But the print was badly faded. So in the late 1930s Con had it rephotographed and enlarged. Then he engaged Montana cowboy artist Irvin “Shorty” Shope to hand-color the new photo with oil paints. Shope did a masterful job, in some cases using tiny brushes that could add microscopic details like white socks on a distant horse’s legs.

When finished, this work hung on the wall behind Con Warren’s office desk for the rest of his life. While doing his books, Dad could always raise his eyes to it and instantly reconnect with its powerful statement about a way of doing things. It was alive in his memory and spirit through growing up at the knees of Con Kohrs and John Bielenberg, the family men who lived that way.

When Dad published the Kohrs autobiography in 1977, he naturally chose the Huffman image for the book cover. This color photo was gotten from production materials for the book.

In the 1980s, Dad and I made an RV trip to eastern Montana to revisit locales where Kohrs & Bielenberg had ranged cattle. The Big Dry was on our itinerary. Dad pronounced it little changed from the early 1900s, when he first saw it as a small boy. The region is still sparsely populated today, with few roads and towns. There were spots where we could stare for miles over the rolling grasslands and see little sign of human habitation.

FURTHER READING:

More on Shorty Shope: http://cowboyartistsofamerica.com/members/deceased/irvin-shorty-shope

Interesting geology of the Big Dry and Little Dry, where an ancient ice sheet evidently melted fast and scoured the landscape with floods:
http://geomorphologyresearch.com/2011/12/18/big-dry-creek-missouri-river-yellowstone-river-drainage-divide-area-landform-origins-eastern-montana-usa/

(Photo by L.A. Huffman, with hand-coloring added by Irvin Shope)

Researched, authored and posted April 9, 2015 by author Patricia Nell Warren

Kohrs & Bielenberg cattle on the range in eastern Montana c. 1910. Looks like they've eaten up most all of the grass. Roany and spotted coats speak to the Spanish strain still existing in the ranch's crossbred herds. Conrad Kohrs always referred to "Spanish cattle," not "longhorns." (Photo from Grant-Kohrs Ranch NHS archives).

Researched, authored and posted August 26, 2014 by Patricia Nell Warren

FALL ROUNDUP. With hay up and grain harvest done, it was time to gather the cattle from summer range and move them down to the home ranch. These purebred Herefords of the Warren era spent the summer grazing in rich native grasses on the benches and mountain slopes of the Boulder Mountains, a dozen miles east of Deer Lodge. Looks like it was a stormy day. There was always one old cow who took the point, knowing the way along the county road and through the town to the Grant-Kohrs Ranch. (1940s photo from the GRKO archives)