Most had land-line telephone service if they were able to string the phone line along fences from the paved road to the headquarters, which was often miles away. And electricity often came from gas-driven generators. You got mail three days a week.
I remember when Mr. Simplot bought the Alder Creek Ranch 20 miles west of Denio, Nev., on the Oregon line, 162 miles from Winnemucca, the nearest town with a barbershop and a politician. I made the trip at least three times a year: at preg-checkin’, bull testing and branding. I’m guessing they had anywhere from 10 to 15 people living there permanently; the boss and his family. Hazel was the cook. Jim was the mechanic. Maybe a married cowboy, a couple Basque fence builders, someone who could drive the haying machinery, a hired man and four single cowboys.
Visitors, the Bureau of Land Management, and strangers were welcomed warily. It was not uncommon for one or two of the hired help to be runnin’ from the law. Alder Creek was a good hide-out. The new young veterinarian drew lots of scrutiny. One trip, I loaded in the pickup with a tough lookin’ cowboy. They called him Tombstone. He rattled off down the road to Knott Creek. He was not really friendly, mostly grunts. Finally he broke the ice, “What the heck kind of name is Baxter?”
I said, “Well, it sure beats Francis!”
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