Bio: Dude 1983-85. Descriptor: A tribute to White Grass and Frank Galey.
Louisa’s Story: When I was 10 years old, I went to the A Bar A Ranch in Encampment, WY with a family from Philadelphia. When my daughter, Wendy, turned 10, the bells went off and I said, “it’s time to go to Wyoming!” We were living in Greenwich, CT at the time.
A Bar A was full, so a friend directed me to White Grass. For 3 years I would bring one of my children out to White Grass the last week of June. Twice we came with a friend, Sheila, and one of her daughters.
Wendy, my son, Robbie, and I have wonderful memories of our weeks at White Grass. Many stories and many wild rides with my most favorite wrangler, Mike McCord, who died in CA in a horse accident. Mike would take Sheila and me out riding, and we would ALWAYS end up at Dornan’s bar on the way home. I think Mike would get a beer.
Rich Sieling was another wrangler favorite. He was MUCH more SERIOUS than Mike. And there was Steve, Little John, Phil and Curly. The wranglers would ask us to their campfires and take me to Dornan’s on Friday night…their PAY DAY!!
Of course my favorite of all was Frank Galey. We’d go bear “bar” hunting to Frank’s illegal dump at the back of the ranch to see a black bear after dinner. Frank would join us at Dornan’s for Friday night Pay Day, and he’d often come to the campfires.
Frank was kind and entertaining. He had a big heart and I was very sad when he passed away. Our last visit to the ranch was June 1985. We were flying out after lunch; I had a FAST ride with Mike in the morning. I came into the lunch room (dining hall) and the table at which Frank sat was full so I took a place at another table. Frank’s seat was always the same, at the head of the long table. Frank was late to lunch that day. When he came in, he surveyed the room and rather than take his usual seat, he came over and sat next to me. I’m sure we chatted. I got up to leave, and as I leaned down to kiss Frank goodbye on his cheek, it went through my mind, “I wonder if I’ll ever see you again.” Two weeks later Ranger Rick, as Wendy and I nicknamed him, called me to tell me Frank had died.
My kids and I LOVED White Grass, Frank, the wranglers and employees who took care of us. White Grass holds a special place in our hearts.