They came through in the spring as the weather warmed and the snow melted (though sometimes not all of the snow) herding livestock through dusty and muddy trails from the south and southwest. They came from ranches in Texas and some herds filtered in from the New Mexico territory. Paths crossed, borders were crossed, and lives were lost.
No-man’s land was a particular thorn in the boot of a cowboy. The area now known as the Oklahoma panhandle did not have statehood at the time and therefore had no rule of law other than what the residents of the area made it and they decided that anyone walking across that piece of land owed them “taxes” to continue north and if they couldn’t pay those fees, the cowboys would be jailed. Messages were usually sent down to their bosses back in Texas and the head of the ranch would come up with the money to free their man (or men) so they could continue on the treacherous journey up through Colorado and continuing into Montana. Eventually, the cattle would make their way to market in Chicago.
Today, towns still endure along the trail, but remain small. Modern technologies in agriculture, medicine, and architecture, among others have kept families in the area that had rough winters and drought-filled summers. This afternoon I stop at a mid-way point along the trail in Brush, Colorado. It’s unusually cold, even for the northeastern part of the state. The sagebrush is blanketed with a layer of snow. My snow boots mark the place where cowboy boots of hard-core ranchers once sauntered. Trail bosses such as Charles Goodnight, who not only had a trail named for him, but invented the infamous chuck wagon that these trail boss’ utilized along the Texas-Montana Feeder Route.
I stand at the entrance of the local museum to find out where exactly the trail marker is located. I’m met with a folded paper sign on the door. I scan it because I can only stand still in the cold for so long and gather that someone is still recovering from a broken bone and even though online the museum shows as open on Friday, Saturdays and Sundays, I am informed later on that it is seasonal. There is a number to call, but I’m not going to bother someone still healing. There are other resources in town and so I head back to my car and drive up the road to the library.
Between two lovely librarians, their supervisor and access to Brush’s historical collection, I have the best resources one could ask for. So, I find a table and hunker down… for a bit because it gets darker earlier, and I still have to take a photo of this marker in the daylight. I take my scanning skills from earlier and dive in.
The Texas-Montana route was the last trail to operate out of all of them. For economic reasons the former Rocky Mountain News stated everything was going “fine” with cattle drives even though homesteading, irrigation and railroads were interrupting the routes more and more frequently. Diary entries from the cowboys show it slowing down in the 1890’s. The last run went out in 1897.
There is a lot of information on these trails and there have been a few people that have contributed to consolidating this history, preserving it, and passing it along. One being, Wilbur Ball, a historian, professor, and writer according to the Brush News-Tribune. He worked hard to get the marker in Brush set. Others include Gary and Margaret Kraisinger. They decided to research and write a book called, The Western Cattle Trail during their retirement. A part of one these trails came through their ranch, and they were curious where it had come from and where it led to. I have the second edition in front of me. The book they compiled is a fascinating read from the simplistic trail descriptions and hand-drawn maps to the transcribed diary entries of what happened on those trails. I see how the adventure, excitement and sadly, the gruesome and violent led to many a Clint Eastwood style film and TV shows like Bonanza.
Real life though was a lot more brutal than fiction. Sure, camping in wide open spaces and making coffee over a fire sound like a dream somedays, but a cowboy is still dealing with weather, wildlife and other people. Though rain and rattlers were big concerns, they were not all of them. Disease, greed, quarantines (Kansas stopped people from passing through because of ‘Tick Fever’) and yes, Native Americans were problematic for these cowboys. Eight to fifteen men and about 2,500 cattle encountered a lot of deadly interactions.
1885 was the year this last Texas-Montana route was started by Jim E. May who came from the LS Ranch and kept pristine records. The route has also been referred to as the ‘May Route’ because of this. His records show this trail followed the old Potter-Bacon Trail and National Trail for a time. One of the first outfits to utilize the trail were Moore and Krill, whose Trail Boss was Tom Crowder. However, most of the information came from another cowboy named, Holston, who took over after Crowder and his horse were killed from a lightning strike near Kansas.
In Holston’s documentation, he called it the ‘Western Trail.’ The Moore and Krill outfit eventually dropped off their livestock near the black hills of the Dakota territory and took the train back home from Chadron, Nebraska. The time noted in the diaries was September 4th. They had started the venture four months prior to give you an average idea of how long these cattle drives took.
One of the last trail bosses on the route was 26-year-old Ealy Moore from the massive XIT Ranch in Texas. He ran about 10-15,000 two-year-old, long-horned steers up the trail and kept track of what he paid each of his team including himself. He got $100, his cook $40 and the drovers $35 each per month.
I closed the book, looked at the clock, scanned some further photos in the building that the librarians allowed me access to and then hit the trail myself… right back to the museum.
Laugh at me all you want. When I first arrived at the museum, I was on the west side of the old Knearl School that ran from 1910 to 1971. That brick building easily blocked the marker that sat to the east side of the school, snuggled down in the ditch near the roadside. It was also gray and blended in with the snow on the ground. I walked around to the front and there it was highlighted by the gold, setting sun. I felt a little silly. Had it been warmer, I probably would have ventured around the property a bit earlier in the afternoon, but now it had more meaning.
I understood why it was at this location. It was near where Moore kept his cattle while he grabbed supplies in downtown Brush. I understood why these particular brands were engraved on the marker and got to see the trail map myself. To fundraise for the marker in the mid-1990’s, Ball contacted local ranchers whose property the trail passed through. For $100 they were able to have their brands featured. He sold about 30 and could have sold even more. The Sterling Monument Company created the marker. It was designed by Carol Lappart Carlson and the artwork was done by Robin J. Laws. It was presented on July 4th, 1995. The start date of the trail isn’t exactly correct according to the research from the Kraisinger’s, but the map is pretty accurate.
Perhaps I was supposed to go up and down this main street a few times just as the cowboys did over a century ago as they brought their cattle up along the river to stock up at the Knearl Mercantile before continuing on. If it wasn’t for this stopping point in Brush survival for these cowboys would have been even more difficult. It was a place of rest and respite before garnering the strength to continue on.
The trail marker is a quick and easy stop located at 314 South Clayton Street in Brush.
Just head south off of I-70. Call the museum to check hours and days of operation to learn more about this and other western history in the area as well.
© Hollie Perry February 3rd, 2024