When we moved to the Central Oregon High Desert near Brothers, Oregon I was 10 years old. Prior to that I had been raised on irrigated lands near Bend. Our ranch had no irrigation but we had three wells for water. One well was 250 feet, the middle well was 500 feet and the well at the house was 600 feet. The wells ran off of wind power. All of the wells produced about 8-10 gallon of water, each, on a good day. The 250 foot well had a large metal storage tank and was allowed to pump 24 hours a day.

We didn’t have any cattle the first year, but we had sheep and water was hauled to the bands of sheep each day. The 500 foot well was referred to as the middle well. It had warm water. We found out that cows would walk long distances in the cold weather to drink warm water. We left the storage tank run over and that created water for deer and antelope. We had a large herd of antelope that arrived during the cold weather. The puddle watered sage hens, doves and a variety of other birds.

The first thing that I discovered was that I sunburned pretty fast. If I had a hole in a long sleeved shirt I got and instant burn. My face got burned and was a peeling red. To prevent burning I wore long sleeved shirts year round and hats with a 3.5 to 4 inch brim. It was always fun to look through a catalog and order a hat. The best hat I ordered was not long for the world. I was putting hobbles on a horse and the danged animal spooked. To keep from getting hurt I grabbed the hobbles and and held on. In the process the horse fell on me. I emerged unhurt, but the straw hat was about a quarter inch thick. It did last the summer, it had character.

The ranch receive 6-8 inches of moisture a year. The weather patterns seemed to be on a cycle. Seven years of wet and seven years of drought. I can recall years that the cut rye hay lay in the fields for a few weeks before it dried enough to process. The extremes were apparent when the national forest lands were barricaded to the public. Since our range operation was partially on national forest lands we were allowed into the forests. Our water trucks carried shovels and maybe fire extinguishers. At one point we had large letter M’s on the cabs of out rigs so they could be identified from the air.

None of us wore sunglasses. There was a reason. We actually needed the glasses but the lenses seemed to be all plastic. When the ground was covered with white pumice two things happened. First the glasses got so scratched you could not see or they were put up and never worn. Since we had brown eyes we didn’t worry. We did discover that the whites of our eyes sunburned and sort of tanned. Now days an optometrist would be horrified.

The other thing I recall about moving to the desert was our foot wear. In the land of irrigation we could wear flops and tennis shoes. The flops were a disaster. As a kid walking was too slow so it was at a run that we traveled. Try running through sage brush in flops. They would intentionally grab sage brush, throw you onto the ground and rip the center thong out. It didn’t take too many face plants and destroyed thongs before the message was received. Tennis shoes were marginal. The soles were too thin and every rock and stick was a pain in the foot. Besides they leaked dirt to the inside of the shoe. When possible you would sit down and pour the dirt out. This was not acceptable to the clean socks.

The advantage to pumice covered ground was the lack of snakes. The pumice ground their bellies off, hence no snake. We did have sand toads and lizards that could get their undersides off the ground. We wore lace boots that had about a 8-10 inch top. The pumice was hard on horses. They had a tendency to scuff their toes and their toes were rubbed off, but the sides grew out. We referred to them as sand toed. We didn’t shoe horses in the summer. You did what needed to be done the spring. Once the hoof dried it was sort of like iron to work with. That doesn’t mean we didn’t keep metal shoes on their feet if we were using them regularly.

There was cistern by the house that we got water into We drank the water and commented on how pure and cool it was. Then Dad decided we should clean the thing. Down into the cistern we went with mops and brushes. Well that was the last time we drank water from the cistern. Somehow lots of mice and chipmunks fell in and drowned. We cleaned the thing, but could not find rodent entries. Our drinking water was confined to ten gallon cans in the basement.

Living on a ranch brought other changes. On the irrigated lands I had driven tractors and pickups. On the ranch we had a water truck. It carried 750 gallons of water. Since the cows and sheep needed water I learned how to drive the truck and move the sheep’s water troughs daily. Later the truck was referred to as the little truck. The next truck was a converted logging truck. 30 gears forward and six for reverse. It had two gear shifts and a two speed button. All this sounds amazing and it was. However, one must realize I was a short kid. To operate some rigs I had to stand on the seat and use the hand throttle. When I got ready to shift I adjusted the hand throttle, climbed off the seat and depressed the clutch and shifted. I don’t recall that ever slowing me down. You might ask about brakes. Not a problem most of our truck didn’t have working brakes. You learned to gear down and then shut the motor off and pop the clutch and stop. For some reason I never drove a car until I was 16 or so. Not to say I didn’t drive it to the gas pump and fill the tank. Maybe Mom saw the way I drove, as fast as possible.