Bio: Daughter of Frank and Inge Galey grew up on the ranch, 1940s to mid 1960s. Descriptor: A young girl becomes educated about horses and later loved long pack trips with her dad and ranch guests.
Cynthia’s Story: MY EARLY DAYS WITH HORSES By Cynthia Galey Peck. Most people grow up in the family home, but with my love of animals, I grew up in the barn. My life on the ranch revolved around the large log barn that my grandfather built in 1913. White Grass was a dude ranch where people came and went in quick succession, but the animals were always there. The barn was surrounded on two sides by corrals. It was filled with my playmates; horses, dogs, and sometimes cows and calves and wild barn cats. One of my earliest memories of the barn was when Dad carried me, as a toddler to meet Molly and Queeny, our sorrel work horses in their night time stall. Molly’s head was longer than I was tall. Her shiny brown eyes with their long lashes fascinated. In my exploration, I put my finger in her eye. Needless to say she wasn’t happy. She threw her head up and scared me. I remained afraid of horses for two years. The barn had big double doors on each end so we could drive a team and wagon or truck through the alley. On the north side of the alley were large stalls for teams of horses, a nook to hang harnesses and saddles and the tack room. The tack room was used to repair saddles, harness and bridles on the heavy oily wood work table. The leather working tools lined the wall behind the table and a roll of leather sat on a shelf. The tack room also had an icebox where we kept horse medicine, sulfanilamide, syringes, alcohol and Corona bag balm. The south side of the alley was an area to hang saddles. Next to the saddles were four cow stanchions and a feed room. We put the grain in a big old chest freezer to keep the mice out. Bolted on the back wall was the ladder to the hayloft. The barn was filled with activity; wranglers saddling or shoeing horses and repairing tack or making lead ropes and dogs hanging around looking for attention to chase a cat. I lost my fear of horses by watching the big gentle creatures day after day. They moved fast when frightened and could step on you, but unintentionally. They didn’t hold a grudge, just became cautious. Their individual characteristics and personalities fascinated me. Over the years Dad gave me several horses to ride. He first chose a gentle mare, Eva. Her coat shined like pure gold in the morning sunlight contrasting with her flaxen mane and tail. She was my new “baby sitter since the previous one became too old to keep up with me and quit. Eva would come back to the barn for food before sundown thus bring me back with her, or if she came back without me, Dad would start searching. Dad thought if I didn’t have a saddle, I wouldn’t get too wild and maybe stay out of trouble also if I fell, I wouldn’t get dragged by a foot caught in the stirrup. I must have been four years old and she was my best friend. I would go to the barn and see her before breakfast as she would be brought in from up the mountain by the wranglers. I would be with her until she was driven up the mountain in the evening to graze. Everywhere I went, I would go with Eva; on picnics to Phelps or Taggert Lake or exploring the mountain game trails or lazing around the ranch. I would take naps on her, draped over her back with my legs and arms hanging down each side and my face nestled in her mane as she would wander and graze. I loved the feel of her solid warm body and her hay-grass-horse smell. I don’t know why I never fell off while sleeping on her. I would have brought her into the house if Mom hadn’t have thrown a fit. As it was, I tried to stay in the barn to sleep, but that wasn’t acceptable either, so all my waking hours were spent with her. I would brush her, take her swimming in the pond below the house and go out with every dude ride that I could. Dad even took me, with a group of dudes, on a pack trip into the Tetons through Death Canyon where we camped at one night, over Static Peak where I took a nap while Eva was walking quietly along with the other horses. We descended into Alaska Basin, an alpine meadow with snowfields melting into many small streams bordered with stunted trees, spring wildflowers and moss covering the rocks. We set up camp, hobbled the horses and let them graze. Next morning we climbed over Hurricane Pass aptly named because the wind blew hard and steady. From the pass we dropped into Cascade Canyon following the noise of bounding water in the creek, fed by the Schoolroom glacier. The third night out we camped at Surprise and Amphitheater lakes. The last day was a long one down the rest of Cascade Canyon past Jenny Lake and back by Taggert and Bradley Lakes. Fran Fox and a friend of his were along and we had a great time exploring near the campsites. I loved the days of camping out, riding Eva and exploring the mountains. It was my first pack trip and I thought I was in heaven.