It was 1980, I was 18 years old, and I had just spent my first summer in Jackson Hole. In late August or early September my X got a job as a working cowboy on a ranch in the ghost town of Lida, Nevada. So we packed everything we owned into our station wagon.

Living on ranches in my early 20’s taught me a lot about life, it was quite the education. Since then I never looked at a piece of beef, or a gallon of milk the same again. One of the most valuable pieces of advice I was handed is one I use to this day.