Every September during our fall counts, my mom and I have ridden in to count German in the same place for several years now- Bull Hill. He camps at the base of Bull Hill, and the sheep bed on top of the 10,000 ft high mountain. We ride in to camp, Cristian and German with their full pack string of groceries, sheep salt, and dog food that we hauled into the trailhead to meet them with, and mom and I with our 2 two-year-old colts packed with our overnight stuff. As we ride down the west side of...

Stress overwhelms me, as I pack business attire into a suitcase for a weeklong trip. Sadness fills me as each of my 3 guys gives me a hug...

Goodbye to the mountains. Goodbye to the sheep. Goodbye to our guys. The middle of September marks when the herds of sheep begin their...