You Still Here

Oh good, a master class on how to avoid water while getting in your car...

One more for 1 21 24

Cowboy State Daily is Wyoming’s largest newspaper with Wyoming’s most experienced journalists. 

<title>You Still Here? Sunday, January 21, 2024 | Cowboy State Daily</title>

You Still Here? Sunday, January 21, 2024

 Oh good, a master class on how to avoid water while getting in your car...

Kolby fedore

Kolby Fedore

Wildlife

As hunting season settles over the mountains surrounding Snyder Basin in Sublette County, the moose begin drifting toward a Wyoming woman's ranch. Sometimes alone, and sometimes with calves.

[{"type":"text","text":"To Pamela Chrisman, their arrival isn't surprising."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"It's been happening for nearly 40 years."}]

"They'd come in here and hide from the hunters," Chrisman explained. "This is kind of a safe haven for all those guys."

What began with one hungry old cow moose slowly blossomed into one of Wyoming's most remarkable wildlife stories — a bond built not through training or taming, but through decades of building trust.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Fish Creek Ranch "}]

Chrisman was born in Big Piney and has spent nearly her entire life ranching beneath Snyder Basin, where cattle, horses and wildlife have always been part of daily life.

[{"type":"text","text":"She was about 21 years old when she moved onto the remote ranch."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"\"There was no bathroom, no telephone, no running water,\" she recalled."}]

Winters meant trips to the outhouse through deep snow. Eventually, her mother helped install a well, and the two spoke each night over a CB radio.

[{"type":"text","text":"The isolation never bothered Chrisman."}]

She grew up following her father while he worked cattle and said she always felt at home outdoors.

[{"type":"text","text":"Animals had always occupied a special place in her life."}]

She remembered adopting a steer as a girl, loving her horses, dogs and cats, and riding horseback home after her school bus became stranded in the snow.

Long before the moose arrived, caring for animals was simply part of who she was.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Grandma Mouse"}]

"Sometime in the 1980s", Chrisman says an aging cow moose wandered onto the ranch and began eating hay alongside her horses.

[{"type":"text","text":"The old moose was gaunt."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"\"She was really, really gray,\" Chrisman recalled."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"Instead of chasing the animal away, she let it eat."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"She affectionately named the old cow \"Grandma Mouse.\""}]

[{"type":"text","text":"The name stuck, and so did the moose."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"Grandma Mouse kept returning."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"Then she brought offspring."}]

Chrisman watched as one generation followed another. There was Merry Mouse, Miss Mouse, Baby Mouse and an old bull she simply called Old Boy. Each had its own personality.

[{"type":"text","text":"\"They have different temperaments,\" she said."}]

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Building Trust"}]

[{"type":"text","text":"At first, the moose simply shared pasture with Chrisman's horses."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"The horses accepted them."}]

"They'd go in and stand next to her in the corral," Chrisman said. "She could eat with them."

[{"type":"text","text":"Over time, something even more unusual happened."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"The moose began trusting Chrisman herself."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"She developed a routine."}]

"I just gave them a hoop or a holler and shook the bucket," she said. "There they come."

Eventually, the relationship became close enough that Chrisman posed for photographs hugging the animals and even briefly sitting atop one especially gentle cow named Miss Mouse.

[{"type":"text","text":"\"I could actually get on her,\" she said. \"They just liked me.\""}]

[{"type":"text","text":"She never tried turning the experience into a roadside attraction."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"In fact, she discouraged visitors."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"The moose accepted her, but they remained wary of everyone else."}]

"I wouldn't let them up there," Chrisman said. "You better stand back, because they're just not really impressed about having quite a few people around."

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"'They Know Where To Come' "}]

To many people who spend time in Wyoming's backcountry, getting close to a moose is reason for concern, not celebration.

competing in an ultramarathon through the Wyoming wilderness, and nearly all agreed on the animal they feared most. 

[{"type":"text","text":"It wasn't bears."}]

Massive, territorial and fiercely protective of calves, moose have earned a reputation as one of Wyoming's most unpredictable wild animals.

[{"type":"text","text":"That is what makes Chrisman's story so extraordinary."}]

To outsiders, the idea that generations of wild moose would willingly return to the same ranch — and trust the same woman — might sound almost impossible.

But John Lund, regional wildlife supervisor for the Wyoming Game and Fish Department's Pinedale Region, said the behavior makes biological sense.

"It's not uncommon," Lund said of multiple generations returning to the same property, especially when an area provides high-quality habitat and protection from people, predators and other disturbances.

Lund said wildlife managers believe moose, much like deer and elk, likely learn seasonal locations from their mothers.

He also said big-game animals quickly learn where hunting pressure is low and return to those places year after year.

While moose hunting is much more limited than elk hunting, he believes the same principle applies.

[{"type":"text","text":"For Chrisman, that's exactly what she has witnessed."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"\"They know where to come,\" she said."}]

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"R-E-S-P-E-C-T "}]

At one time, Chrisman estimated as many as 10 moose regularly visited the ranch.

[{"type":"text","text":"Today, about four or five still stop by."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"Grandma Mouse is gone."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"So are Merry Mouse, Miss Mouse and Old Boy."}]

But each winter, Chrisman still puts out an alfalfa bale and a few pellets.

[{"type":"text","text":"She still watches the hills."}]

Descendants of those first visitors still find their way back beneath Snyder Basin.

Lund said becoming comfortable around one person "isn't unheard of," though he cautioned that moose are still wild animals. Cows can become aggressive while protecting calves, bulls often become dangerous during the fall rut, and any moose that feels cornered or threatened could attack.

[{"type":"text","text":"Chrisman agrees that respect has always been the key."}]

"They aren't as mean as people put them up to be," she said. "But you've got to respect them and give them enough room."

[{"type":"text","text":"She never tried to make the moose into pets."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"She simply offered them a place where they were safe."}]

Moose lady Pam2 8 8 26

<title>Meet The Moose Whisperer: For 40 Years, Wild Moose Return To Her Big Piney Ranch | Cowboy State Daily</title>

For nearly 40 years, generations of wild moose have returned to Fish Creek Ranch near Big Piney, Wyoming, where they trust Pamela Chrisman so much she can walk up and pet them. "This is kind of a safe haven for all those guys," she said.

Meet The Moose Whisperer: For 40 Years, Wild Moose Return To Her Big Piney Ranch

Headshot of Cowboy State Daily's business and tourism reporter, Renée Jean

Renée Jean

Wyoming Life

Wine country in America usually evokes a mental image of a rolling, manicured hill with velvet ropes and a snobbish sommelier somewhere in California. 

In Wyoming, with its high prairie wind and winters that can plunge to 30 degrees below zero, it’s more likely to elicit laughter or some sage advice — such as, “Don’t try this at home, kiddos.”

The odds are definitely not in the wine grape grower’s favor. It’s windy, it’s cold, and there’s a short-short growing season, which tightens even more at elevation.

 who decide to give it a try — and succeed.

Mustang Mountain Winery near Lovell, for example, and Table Mountain Vineyards near Huntley in southeast Wyoming are among the few pioneers who not only successfully grow grapes but turned them into a profitable winery. 

Christopher Volzke and his wife, Angie, with Unlocked Vines, are latest to join this small club with a cold-pressed winery in Casper.

It hasn’t been an easy road. Volzke has lost track of the number of times people have told him he probably wouldn’t be able to grow winery grapes in Wyoming. 

But he’s a farm kid from north-central South Dakota. So, stubbornness — perseverance in polite company — comes naturally. 

“I think my wife and I both consider ourselves a bit of serial hobbyists,” he said with a chuckle. “I think we like to find challenges and see if we can make things happen where otherwise maybe there hasn’t been a lot of action.”

Growing up on a fifth-generation ranch made him confident, despite what everyone told him, that he could get grapes to grow in Wyoming. 

“You just have to be selective on what you’re growing,” he said. “You have to approach it in a different way than if we were on the coast of California.”

That meant amending thick clay soils as well as engineering a next-level trellis system to keep his vines healthy and intact despite Wyoming’s infamous wind.

Wyoming has some positives to offer, Volzke said. Those hot days and cool nights — a dramatic diurnal shift — protect the acidity wines need to keep them from becoming too flabby or jammy. 

“It’s one of the reasons you don’t really see wine grapes in Florida,” he said.

Heat without a cool night drop isn’t conducive to making the best wines.

Wyoming’s low humidity is another gift for wine grapes. 

It means Volzke doesn’t have to worry as much about classic grape diseases such as powdery mildew. That creates the possibility for minimal or even no-spray viticulture.

Of course, the big trick to growing wine grapes is choosing varieties that can survive up to minus-30 temperatures.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"}],"text":"That’s been a multi-year process. "}]

“For instance, a South Dakota grape that survives down to like negative-50 called Valiant makes a wonderful jam,” he said. “It doesn’t make a great wine. So just because it grows out here doesn’t mean it’s a great wine grape.”

He particularly admires another cold-hardy white grape called La Crescent. It survives Wyoming winters just fine. But its early bud break means it’s vulnerable to the state’s notorious late-season snowstorms. 

That severely limits its yield and, for now, has him importing that grape from Buffalo, New York, to use in their first commercially available white blend.

That’s a problem he hopes breeding programs will eventually solve. 

“That’s exactly what Tom Plocher does as a private breeder,” Volzke said. “He’s trying to take things and make them suitable for different regions. There’s a whole science behind it. So that’s the reason we have Crimson Pearl even though it buds really late in the season.”

For now, he’s growing Frontenac blanc for his white wines, a newer variety developed within the last 10 years by the University of Minnesota. 

“It has really nice acidity and kind of stone fruit flavors,” Volzke said. “And then the red we’re doing is from Tom Plocher as well, and that one’s called Crimson Pearl.”

The Crimson Pearl offers a bright red color and a fresh fruit flavor with medium acidity. 

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"The Real Litmus Test"}]

For a long time, Volzke’s winemaking hobby existed in a kind of limbo where friends insisted he could sell his wines, but the couple wasn’t sure anyone outside family and friends would feel the same.

The turning point came when they submitted a red blend to Winemaker Magazine International’s Amateur Wine Competition. It was just for fun to see how they’d do.

When the results came back, they’d earned a silver medal, much to the Volzkes’ surprise. 

“It was validating for me because, yes, we’ve had a lot of friends and family and acquaintances that have tasted our wine over the years,” he said. “But you never really know if you’re getting an unbiased response. Winemaker magazine doesn’t know who we are from anyone else. So it was a good litmus test for could this product stand on its own.”

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"An Old-World Twist"}]

Aside from growing grapes in a state not known for being hospitable to them, what makes Unlocked Vines unusual is its fermenter.

They’ve imported a Speidel FermentEgg from Germany. They first saw egg-shaped fermenters at Tony Bish Wines in Hawke’s Bay, New Zealand. There they learned that it’s part of an old-world winemaking method.

“Wine a long time ago was made in clay pots called amphoras, and now a lot of it is just done in big drums,” Volzke explained. “When we were in New Zealand, we went to a winery that was using concrete eggs to do all their fermentation, because the shape of an egg has a golden ratio.”

The natural egg shape, it turns out, promotes natural circulation in a vat of fermenting wine.

“That way you don’t get hot spots in your fermentation process, which can cause off flavors,” Volzke said. “So when we came back, we decided we could probably use that concept.”

Rather than concrete, however, they’ve sourced a slightly more modern vessel manufactured for the winemaking industry in Germany. 

Volzke also limits the additives in his wines to keep them closer to old-world techniques. 

“The FDA allows I think it’s more than 200 different additives in a bottle of wine that don’t have to be listed in the ingredient list,” Volzke said. “So sometimes, when you’re having a bottle of wine from a large commercial producer, they’re putting in additives for color. They’re adding things for flavor and tannin structure.”

Volzke wants to keep it as close to grapes and yeast for his process. 

“I’d call that intervention winemaking,” he said of the heavy-additive style. “We just use a minimal amount of sulfite to make sure it’s shelf stable, but no more than we need to.”

Unlocked Vines is starting at a time when overall alcohol consumption is under more scrutiny, with some prominent health guidelines saying there’s really no safe amount.

Volzke is keenly aware that people are becoming much more selective about wines and spirits, choosing fewer but better glasses when they do indulge.

He plans to keep the winery small, starting with just 600 bottles this year. He hopes to ramp that up to 1,200 next year and then around 3,000 by year three.

It’s going to stay a tiny, micro-winery with a hand-grown, hand-bottled, hand-corked product that feels accessible to regular people.

“I think wine in general, the industry puts up a lot of barriers,” he said. “Like you have to know a bunch about it, or what foods to pair it with. And honestly, I think that’s a lot of nonsense. Wine is best paired with people, not food. Like a really good bottle of wine while sitting on the patio telling stories with friends who are in town is a much more memorable experience than getting it paired with the right piece of fish.”

So, rather than filling every available shelf space, Unlocked Vines has started with a single Casper restaurant, Whiskey Butter, which will carry its signature Ampersand white blend. 

Whiskey Butter is the kind of place Volzke believes will help them tell a good story about their winery. 

Unlocked Vines has also opened an online store and is already permitted to ship to 38 states. A few bottles have landed as far away as New York City. 

If someone that far away loves a Wyoming white blend because it tasted good on their porch, that will be enough validation for Volzke.

He’s been telling everyone all along that grapes will grow in Wyoming, and if they grow their way to New York tables, well he was obviously right, wasn’t he?

Blended wines inset 8 8 26

<title>Casper Couple Proves You Can Make Award-Winning Wine In Wyoming | Cowboy State Daily</title>

Growing up on a fifth-generation ranch made Christopher Volzke confident, despite what everyone told him, that he could get grapes to grow in Wyoming. Not only was he right, but he and his wife, Angie, won a silver medal for their wine from Winemaker Magazine.

Casper Couple Proves You Can Make Award-Winning Wine In Wyoming

Entertainment

Every August, the highways to South Dakota begin to thunder as hordes of bikers pour into the Black Hills.

What began in 1938 with the Jackpine Gypsies Motorcycle Club has grown into one of the most famous motorcycle gatherings in the world. 

Some have made the trip for decades. Others are rolling into the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally for the first time.

Greg Griswold remembers the first time he approached Sturgis from Gillette on Interstate 90.

[{"type":"text","text":"\"Holy shit, we're going to Sturgis,\" he remembers thinking."}]

At home, he drives a truck in the oil field. His wife, Toni, works as an assistant manager at an apartment complex. Between them, they have four children and eight grandchildren.

[{"type":"text","text":"\"We're very much the all-American family,\" he said."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"But when they leave for Sturgis, something changes."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"\"It's an absolute getaway from everything that is life,” he said."}]

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"The New Guy"}]

Amid all that freedom are a few unwritten rules, and one false move can get you punched in the face — or worse, a full-out ass-kicking.

A 20-something-year-old stone mason from Sheridan who goes by Grout is heading to Sturgis for the first time for the 86

 annual rally, which began Friday and runs through Aug. 16.

Newly single, Grout — aka Sean Severs — said he's especially looking forward to "the party." He said this while packing up his tent for the campgrounds. 

This year, he's riding alongside a Sheridan biker known as Coach, a Sturgis veteran tasked with showing the first-timer the ropes.

For Grout, the draw is the "vibe" — meeting people, seeing new places, and being surrounded by thousands of people that share his love of chrome.

But every first-timer eventually learns there is more to Sturgis than showing up and having a good time.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"The Sage"}]

Bob Pruitt has spent 45 years in the saddle and has made the trip to Sturgis more than half a dozen times.

[{"type":"text","text":"They call him Pretty Bobbie."}]

The modern-day mountain man stands over 6 feet tall, and is bald and broad-shouldered, with enormous paws, a scraggly gray-and-white beard and piercing blue eyes.

[{"type":"text","text":"His voice is heavy, each word landing like a hammer on a nail."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"Yet somehow, standing next to him, you feel safer."}]

Maybe that's because Pretty Bobbie has been around long enough to know where the trouble is — and how to stay out of it.

His advice for anyone headed to Sturgis is simple: Have fun, pay attention, and understand the unwritten rules before you accidentally break one.

[{"type":"text","text":"The first is perhaps the easiest."}]

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Rule No. 1: Hands Off"}]

[{"type":"text","text":"A motorcycle is not a park bench."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"Don't sit on one."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"Don't lean against one."}]

[{"type":"text","text":"Don't climb aboard for a photograph."}]

Pretty Bobbie's advice is concise: "You want to touch a motorcycle, get your own."

[{"type":"text","text":"Griswold understands why."}]

Sturgis can offer everything from battered old Harleys coaxed across several states to meticulous customs that cost staggering amounts of money and craftsmanship.

[{"type":"text","text":"\"Their bike is what they live for,\" he said of some riders. "}]

[{"type":"text","text":"Admire it, then keep walking."}]

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Rule No. 2: Don't Play Biker"}]

[{"type":"text","text":"Sturgis is not the place to cosplay as an outlaw biker."}]

Griswold said an easy way to attract the wrong kind of attention is to show up wearing motorcycle-club insignia you haven't earned.

The sleeveless vest is commonly called a "cut," he said. Patches can identify a club, chapter or territory, including the curved "bottom rocker."

"A good way (to get your ass kicked) is show up with a cut that is flashing the wrong bottom rocker," Griswold said about the arched patches across the back of vests that usually indicates what territory a rider is from.

An experienced club member may recognize that an outsider simply doesn't know better, "but don't bet on it."

For a prospect, as in someone who wants to join some of the more notorious clubs, “he’s trying to prove to the club that he’s willing to go the extra mile for the club.”

[{"type":"text","text":"In a low, ominous voice, Griswold elaborates. "}]

"The 1% badge is only for those who have actually done the deed, and we’re talking — we’re talking death,” he said. "They’ve taken a life.” 

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Rule No. 3: Know When To Shut Up"}]

Pretty Bobbie said problems at the Sturgis rally begin the same way they do everywhere else.

[{"type":"text","text":"\"Most people get bound up because they drink too much,\" he said."}]

Then people start talking trash, getting overly friendly or asking questions of people who clearly don't want to answer them.

"The way to run afoul on a biker is messing with his bike, mess with his old lady, start talking shit or asking too many questions," he said. 

Want to make friends? “Nod to them,” he said. "If they nod back, yeah, you'd probably be all right talking to them. If they don't nod back, leave them alone. They don't want to be messed with.

[{"type":"text","text":"\"Basic awareness goes a long way.\""}]

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Rule No. 4: Leave The Old Lady Alone"}]

A surefire way to get your ass kicked at Sturgis is by "messing with someone's old lady,” Pretty Bobbie continued.

[{"type":"text","text":"The term itself might sound less than flattering to an outsider."}]

In biker culture, Pretty Bobbie said calling a woman “old lady” is "the utmost term of respect."

"If you hear a guy say, 'This is my wife,' he loves her," Pruitt said. "You got a guy say, 'Yeah, this is my old lady,' he'll kill for her."

Problems often begin when the drinks start flowing and guys start getting a little too friendly.

With the annual Sturgis Motorcycle Rally kicking off this weekend, many bikers offered tips on how to avoid getting your ass kicked at the celebration. One 45-year vet says "Understand the unwritten rules before you accidentally break one."

You Still Here? Sunday, January 21, 2024

In case you missed it

More in You Still Here

Today In Alcohol May Have Been Involved: Saturday, August 8, 2026

You Still Here? Saturday, August 8, 2026

Bonus Video 1: Saturday, August 8, 2026

Bonus Video 2: Saturday, August 8, 2026

Most read