Life on the ranch with the Hunewill clan

"Where you off to, Denise?" Denise is Hunewill Guest Ranch's chief financial officer up in Bridgeport.

"It's time to separate the nine bulls we have up in Buckeye Canyon," she answered, dressed in in jeans and a flouncy blouse. On the Hunewill Ranch, everyone wears more than one hat.

"They've been up there with 200 cows all summer, and it could take until noon or it could take all day."

In my mind I picture Denise and six other wranglers wrestling nine big, old, mean juggernauts to the ground.

"Gosh, no, they weigh 2,000 pounds a piece," said family patriarch Stan. "We separate 'em out from the herd and trail drive 'em back. They're real cagey, too. When you ride up and they first see you they hunker down in the brush and stand stone still."

Stan was raised on the ranch and he knows.

Back in the '30s when beef on the hoof was selling for 3 cents a pound, Lenore, his mother, decided it was time to take in guests.

Stan Sr. went over to Buckeye Canyon, cut some timber and the first cabins were built. In those days they had a pond and every spring they'd cut ice and store it in the ice house, which still stands.

Picture a sea of knee-high grass, brooks of crystal clear water flowing through and in the center, a big Victorian house (circa 1880). Poplars and hundreds of aspen shelter the stately old building. Winding paths connect the cluster of cabins. Before every meal, a belfry bell rings and calls the faithful to the glassed-in dining room. Planters overflow with red, purple and white petunias.

"We have 2,000 acres of pasture and 1,500 acres in the foothills" Jeff said. Jeff is Stan's son, and reminds me of Gary Cooper.

"What are you up to now?" I ask. "It's time to irrigate. We flood the ranch, even under the cabins. We have to do it at night so when the guests get up all they'll think is 'we must have had a very heavy dew.'"

Jeff also is king of the back-hoe.

Daughter Megan wrangles 150 horses, knows each by name, and, more importantly, their dispositions.

Betsy, her sister, tells me the same thing. Betsy handles the administrative chores and entertains guests in the evening. Both women graduated from University of California, Orange County, in dance and drama.

It's all about making the guests happy.

Trail rides, barbecues, bonfires, talent night and roping; anything to bring guests back year after year.

The spark plug of the guest ranch is Jan. Jan and Stan are long-term marriage partners. On a good day she might be 5-feet tall. Jan never stops.

In the dining room, at the picnic tables under the trees, in the barn, Jan gets people talking. She's equally good-natured with the kitchen girls, family members, cowboys and guests. If you are a gnarly, old cowboy, chances are she'll listen more than talk.

Jan radiates good will, except when it comes to the goats. Megan was in 4H as a girl and still likes to have a few goats around. "Those darn goats have the run of the ranch and still they come into my garden and eat the flowers down to the nub," she rails.

Coincidentally, the next day, I'm walking to the main house and there they are - five white, brown, spotted, nannies, billies and kids making their way into Jan's flower garden.

"Orllyene," I said to my wife. "You go over there and I'll stand here," and we made the biggest ruckus you can imagine.

Every October for the last 100 years, a cattle drive moves 600 cattle down to Smith Valley for the winter. Guests sign up years in advance to be part of the cattle drive. Stephanie, a masseuse is available each evening back at the ranch. The Hunewills are as fine a bunch of rootin'-tootin', fun-lovin' people as you'll ever get to know; a dynasty since 1861.

Ron Walker lives in Smith Valley.