Gillette Sheep Drive Stops Traffic, Revives Ranching Tradition

GILLETTE — It’s probably been more than a century since anyone attempted to trail sheep from the country into the livestock yards in downtown Gillette. Over the decades, society has encroached around the dusty trails to make that journey a lot more difficult.

None of this fazed Mike Miller as he tromped behind his herd of about 150 ewes and lambs on West Echeta Road early Saturday morning. He swooshed his jacket to keep the sheep moving as he yelled out commands to his sheepdogs, Josie and Tate.

Drivers in both directions patiently waited for Miller to clear a pathway on the road. Most seemed interchangeably amused and intrigued by the unusual display of Western life, except for one anxious motorist who was trying to rush her passenger to the emergency room.

Though Miller has years of experience trailing his bands of sheep up the mountains to their summer pastures, this is his first time herding them more than 4 miles into Gillette proper. He had no idea how long it will take, though he estimated a few hours.

“This is our dry run,” he said with a laugh. “Maybe we should have practiced first.”

Trailblazer

With Miller was his aunt Kate Miller, who also spent a lot of years trailing sheep on the family’s ranch in Johnson County. They were trailing the sheep to town as part of the Powder River Basin Sheepherder’s Festival hosted by the Rockpile Museum.

Miller has participated in the festival since its inception three years ago, but this year he suggested he trail his sheep instead of trailering them in honor of the tradition of moving sheep to and from their high mountain pastures.

Along with the sheep trail, the two-day festival featured food, music, art and storytelling to celebrate the rich cultures of the Scots, Irish, Basque and Latin Americans who founded the sheep industry in the Powder River Basin.

Heather Rodriguez, museum educator at the Rockpile, was thrilled by Miller’s suggestion. This is her first year organizing the event, and she wanted to model it on the most prestigious sheepherder’s festival in the nation in Idaho.

“It was a dream of mine to do a trailing of the sheep,” she said. “I was so excited when Mike suggested it.”

Miller, too, seemed to be enjoying himself as he steered the sheep off the road into a grassy pasture, guiding them along the railroad tracks.

Tate And Josie Get To Work

The dogs did most of the heavy lifting, running in circles around the sheep with the precision and command of drill sergeants when Miller instructed them to “come-by” — or run in a clockwise direction — or “away” when they started to veer too far to the right.

Three-year-old Tate herded the sheep with a seasoned skill of a dog used to collecting ribbons at sheep trials, following Miller’s commands to stay back when he pushed too hard from the rear or to lie down. Josie, though three years older, was harder for Miller to rein in as she nipped at the sheep’s hind legs when they stopped to nibble on grass or fell behind.

He and Tate make a great team, Miller said, and he even takes the dog along to his day job as superintendent at Fuller Construction.

And though this is his first time herding sheep into town, Miller has been at this for a long time. He did first sheep trail when he was 14 at the family ranch in Johnson County. Typically, the route up the mountain takes three or four days at about 15 miles per day.

Since his first trailing, Miller was hooked and has been raising sheep ever since.

“It’s kind of in my blood,” he said.

From The Old Country

The Millers are of Basque descent, hailing from French side of the Navarro River. Miller’s great-grandfather, John, came to Johnson County from the Pyrenees in the early 1890s to work on the ranch.

There he met Miller’s great-grandmother, Dominica, and once he saved enough money, bought his own sheep and homesteaded a parcel of land. Miller’s grandparents, Grayce and Russ Miller, continued the traditions while preserving the family’s Basque roots.

Sharing his heritage with others is one of Miller’s main incentives in participating in the festival, as is just getting out and spending time with his sheep.

At about mile 4, the sheep were showing strains under the budding heat and miles on their hoofs. They don’t like to walk directly into the sunlight, so one of Miller’s friends rattled a bucket of corn from his seat on the back of an ATV leading them. Even though it’s a breezy morning, the sheep were already starting to overheat.

“Come on girls, we’re almost there,” Miller called out, herding them back onto pavement and through the intersection at Highway 14/16 with the help of Gillette city workers who blocked the intersection to let them cross.

A gaggle of onlookers snapped photos and yelled encouragement as the sheep trotted down the final stretch to the pen awaiting them at the back of the museum. Bagpipes wailed in the distance as the sheep passed through a semicircle of traditional sheep wagons into their temporary pasture.

Miller was pleased with how well the sheep and dogs had done, and despite the changing times, sometimes it’s important to do things the traditional way, and there’s nothing more traditional around Wyoming that driving sheep and cattle through town.

Contact Jen Kocher at jen@cowboystratedaily.com

Jen Kocher can be reached at jen@cowboystatedaily.com.