Guys...
Thanks for the several very positive messages posted in this thread. In the way of a reward, and to show that I am not totally insensitive to the charms of Chama and the surrounds, I thought you might enjoy one of the items I posted on The Goat last year.CATTLE DRIVE, ITEM #25
The cattle grazing in the high country were a constant source of inconvenience and
amusement for us. Here are a few stories:
Especially on the eastbound approach to Osier, cattle would be on the track. Invariably,
they ran from the locomotive, always between the rails, sometimes for miles. The
engineer would play tunes on the whistle, trying to get them off. I made a film (Gene
Watson had a nice 16 mm camera) which had a delightful sequence of this funny-business.
Unfortunately, I have no idea of where the film is today. Dave Ogle might have it.
One time, as we pulled into Osier, I saw a heifer lying on her side, in a gulch downhill
from the track, tangled up in wire fencing. It was obvious that she would die, if not
extracted. My own experience with cattle is almost nil. It consists only of living on my
aunt and uncle’s dairy farm for a summer, as a youngster, while my mother was
recuperating from a serious health problem. So, I wasn’t about to undertake the
untangling project.
I got on the P.A. system, explained the problem, and asked if there were any cattlemen
on board. I asked that, if so, he or they come back to the conductor’s station at the center
of the train, and help with the matter. After the stairs had been lowered, several men did
come back. Naturally, they were all bow-legged, tanned, lean, and wearing Levi’s. One
seemed sort of an alpha male type, and he took over the disentanglement.
It was a pleasure to watch him work. He talked to the heifer, who looked at him
lovingly with big brown eyes. He was extremely gentle with her, as he methodically undid
the wires. When she was finally free, she got up and high-tailed. The cattleman got a fine
round of applause.
They bring the cattle down from the high country in the fall. They gather them up on
horseback, and then collect them in the meadow near the road crossing just above the
Chama River bridge. The first year that we saw this, they must have had three or four
hundred head gathered up.
The train was scheduled to depart at ten in the morning. By nine, quite a few passengers
had arrived, and were strolling about, looking at the structures, cars, and - in particular -
the steamed-up locomotive already attached to the train. It was then that I heard
unfamiliar noises. Bleating sounds, clopping, and shouting. The goddamn cowboys were
bringing their cattle drive right through town, obviously on a carefully timed mission.
Well, with that many animals, there will be some strays. About forty came down the
driveway into the railroad parking lot. Cowboys on horseback came down after them,
giving the tourists a fine show.
The door of the Chama depot was always propped open on train day, as it would be only
a nuisance with so much foot traffic in-and-out. A cow and her calf decided to come into
the waiting room. The clerks shooed them out fairly quickly, but not before they had
made their marks.
The closest available employee was John Coker. I sent him for a scoop shovel. That
day, he served as more than a brakeman. I was required to buy him a beer that evening.
Best regards, Bob Keller
