The Challenges of Grandeur

By L. Scott Hancock

Island Park was first a Spotlight City in the magazine’s June 2003 issue. Here’s a revisit.

In a telephone conversation last summer, a friend asked, “Just how big is Island Park?” As I thought about an answer, my mind sent me back to when I was a boy in a ranch house waiting for a trail drive to start, to say goodbye to my brothers. The cattle would be pushed by drovers, my brothers included, from the forest range by Trude Siding along a path and over the state highway to the railhead at Kilgore more than thirty miles west.

In those days, cattle were shipped from stockyards by train. This trail was tricky, for the cattle would want to spread out and graze at every new meadow. About two-thirds of the way there, past Sheridan Reservoir, the herd was easier to contain by the experienced hired hands and the boys who had been brought along to cover the outer edges. It was the height of adventure for teenagers whose uncle was trying to make them into cattlemen.

My brothers spent their nights under the stars unless the weather forced them to set up tents. Each night, one of the drovers was picked for “nighthawk” duties. Their job was to circle the herd slowly, keeping them calm and guarding against bears, coyotes, and cougars. They would spell each other at regular intervals so everyone could get a modicum of sleep.

Along Red Rock Pass Road, wind from the high-sagebrush desert and sand dunes could be absolute misery. Sometimes, gale-force winds made the cattle bunch up and refuse to move, and sometimes the herd was held in wait until the storm had passed. If all went well, the trip would take a few days. If not, a week or more could be used up pretty quickly.