Work Hats

RESISTOL
The finely-woven, yet durable, 200X Sutter straw hat will be your best friend this summer (and many more to come). The vented crown, mesh lining, and genuine leather sweatband keep perspiration out of your eyes, no matter what your activity. The stitched-leather band and buckle set add a dressy final touch. Best for: Trail riding $139, 888-234-5450,
resistolhat.com

STETSON
Stetson has been crafting quality hats since 1865. The felt 6X Bar None, made with a blend of wild hare and rabbit, is ideal for cold-weather work and dress. Available in practical colors including blade, silverbelly, and black, it has a sharp self-band and silver buckle set. A tall crown and genuine leather sweatband with satin lining means your head won’t get overheated, whether you’re roping or dancing. Best for: Team roping $209, 888-234-5450, stetsonhat.com

CATALENA HATTERS
This handsome 10X Top Hand Crease in bone felt features a bound edge with matching band. Handmade and custom-shaped in Bryan, Texas, by the Catalena family, these hats are as authentic cowboy as you can get. The color makes this a great transitional dress-to-work hat. Best for: The All-Around $200, 800-976-7818, catalenahats.com

SUNBODY HATS
This versatile straw topper is named after Reata Brannaman, for the hat she wears in real life and in the movie about her father, Buck (2011). Shaped to her specifications and made of Guatemalan standard palm, it has a slightly flexible 4-inch brim that provides good coverage because of the dipped front. A slight back curve prevents it from being knocked off while you’re in the saddle or working; the telescoped 4-inch crown keeps things cool. Best for: Round-ups $53, 800-310-7093, sunbody.com

Casual Hats

CHARLIE 1 HORSE
Beloved by true cowgirls and celebrities alike, Charlie 1 Horse turns out original hats with authentic Western flair. Southern Girl is a straightforward silverbelly-dyed straw hat on the surface, accented by the iconic horseshoe brand logo, a tooled band, and shallow pinch-front crease. The underside, however, is gussied up with suede turquoise leather inlay overlapped by tooled leather. Best for: Beating out the boys $200, 972-494-0511, charlie1horse.com

GREELEY HAT WORKS
The edgy Felt Floral Tattoo is sure-‘nuff competitor-quality. It’s available in stone, with a black motif on the underside of the 4-inch brim, and a practical low crown. The final touch? A self-band with black and silver buckle set. Best for: Winning the World $400 and up, 888-367-2428, greeleyhatworks.com

AMERICAN HAT COMPANY
The straw 5050 has a catchy, two-tone herringbone-pattern that helped make it the brand’s bestseller of 2012. The vented crown provides airflow, and custom shaping allows you to further showcase your personal style (pictured: cowboy crease). Best for: Riding bulls $129, 817-625-6650, americanhat.net

ATWOOD HATS

Made with lightweight shantung, the two-tone, unisex Pendleton makes for a great summer-weight hat. A low crown, venting, two-cord band, and 4-inch brim keep you feeling and looking fresh, even in soaring temps.
Best for: Riding fences $80, 800-496-1086, atwoodhats.com

Dress Hats

AMERICAN HAT COMPANY
This custom-shaped, handmade 1000X felt hat is built to last. Made of specially blended Portuguese beaver and mink (color pictured: natural; also comes in black, silverbelly, silver sand, and pecan), this classic, dignified cowboy hat comes with a 4-inch brim finished with a 14K-gold buckle set on a self band. Best for: Living the legacy $2,500, 817-625-6650, americanhat.net

RESISTOL
The granite-hued and versatile 6X Powell is impressively fine-textured. It’s accented with a self band and silver buckle set, and the genuine leather sweatband and satin lining make for a cool, comfortable head…not that you won’t already be feeling your oats wearing this number. Best for: Date night dancing $219, 888-234-5450, resistolhat.com
 
D BAR J HAT COMPANY
This iconic Roy Rogers hat was hand-shaped by Master Hatter David Johnson in Las Vegas, Nevada. D Bar J specializes in historic hats and beloved classics, like this one in the Texas Torpedo style, with a double telescope gambler top crease. It’s available in 5X to 100X in custom colors and combinations (pictured: granite gray 10X blend with self band, gold and silver buckle set, and bound edge). Best for: Making an entrance $320 and up, 702-430-0681, dbarjhat.com

GREELEY HAT WORKS
This seriously stylish hat is handcrafted by Trent Johnson in Northern Colorado. Ultra-soft, yet sturdy, the Beaver20 in agave doesn’t show dirt and is versatile enough to use for work, dress, or performance. The low crown ensures a snug fit, while the wide, 4 1/2-inch brim is modern and practical. A self band with silver buckle makes for an understated yet classic finish. Best for: Looking like the boss $625, 888-367-2428, greeleyhatworks.com

A scene from the film Tombstone (1993) recreates a visit to this same ranch by Wyatt Earp (Kurt Russell) and his “immortals.” Doc Holliday (Val Kilmer) lays suffering from tuberculosis in an interior bedroom as Earp departs, taking one last look at his best friend from the doorway leading out to a porch. The actual house, I now see, has no porch. Otherwise, it’s exactly the same spread where the historic Doc rolled out of bed in 1882, coughing, to saddle up and ride. The imposing Charlton Heston aptly plays ranch owner Henry Hooker, who came from a line of Englishmen known for their courage and fierce belief in liberty. According to one descendent, the first Hooker immigrated to Connecticut in 1633 and was said to have “carried a gun in one hand and a Bible in the other; preaching on Sundays and fighting Indians on weekdays.” That’s basically what it took to build up Arizona’s first

permanent ranch.

Henry Hooker (1828–1907) was well known for his hospitality, and today, I enjoy my own dose of “Hooker hospitality” when the man’s great-great-great- grandson, Jesse Hooker Davis, greets me with a handshake in the driveway. Like most cowboys, he dislikes the limelight. His private ranch is not open to the public, but he graciously agreed to my visit thanks to an introduction by his friend Scott Baxter. Davis and Baxter collaborated on Baxter’s book about old Arizona ranching families, 100 Years, 100 Ranchers (Prisma Graphic Corp., 2012), and Davis appreciated my interest in his ranch’s history and ongoing legacy.

Though he spent his youth visiting the ranch of his ancestors, Davis grew up in San Diego. Now 39 years old, the burly former running back for Cornell University moved back here permanently in 2003. He had been working in the hotel/restaurant industry and was looking forward to the day he’d own a string of bungalows on a Mexican beach, but a visit to his ailing grandmother, Jacqueline “Rinki” Hooker, changed everything. The ranch was ailing, too, since she was basically living in Tucson. The livestock had been in the care of a foreman for years, and the 4,000-plus-square-foot hacienda, corrals, bunkhouses, carriage house, and barns on the 160-acre original homestead had sat mostly unoccupied.

Jesse Hooker Davis (foreground) branding a calf, Sierra Bonita Ranch.

“She was just trying to hold onto the ranch,” says Davis, who was inspired to take charge. As soon as we step toward the house, I begin to understand how the Sierra Bonita survived the terror waged by Apaches—it’s literally a fortress. Davis’ tour of the hacienda ends with a visit to the high-ceilinged room where Doc Holliday once lay. The makers of Tombstone made replicas of the exact adobe brick walls, headboard, and dresser when they filmed on location near Tucson. I can almost see the real Doc languishing, pale and sweaty, in this very bed, as he did in real life and vividly on screen.

“Can you sense the spirits of all who have been here?” I whisper to Davis. “I think they watch over me,” he nods. “Or, at least I ask them to watch over me. Other people have sensed them, too, but they don’t like it quite as much as I do.”

Davis raises American Quarter horses on the 45,000-acre Sierra Bonita and has kept Henry Hooker’s original Hereford cattle, whose bloodlines date back a century. He runs a commercial cow-calf operation and works horseback with the help of three hired men. Davis’ cows begin calving in November, and each season’s rainfall and market fluctuations dictate how many, and when, he sells. “I’m the last of the Mohicans,” says the single Davis about losing his grandmother and father a few years ago.

“It’s my turn to take care of the ranch.” It’s been a steep learning curve, but nine years after settling in, he’s as much a part of the place as the once majestic adobe brick corral. The ranch has been listed as a national historic landmark since 1964, and isn’t going anywhere thanks to Davis, who hopes to pass on the legend of the Sierra Bonita to a seventh generation.

Anderson Bean
Anderson Bean’s Lochness Monster boots evolved from more than 150 years of cowboy tradition. These madein- Texas boots feature a unique hide treatment and progressive look, while the channeled-welt construction on the leather insoles makes for a low profile. They have steel shanks for arch support and wooden pegs that adjust naturally to changes in temperature and moisture. As the natural leather sole expands and contracts with wear and weather, so do the pegs, keeping them securely in place, unlike a nail.Best for: Date night; $378, andersonbean.com

Lane
These Lane Dakota boots in distressed red, grey, and yellow are handmade with high-quality leather, with special attention to details in the stitching and inlays. The snip-toe design is in for fun nights out, and the short 10-inch shaft is perfectly casual to pair with a skirt and leggings. Don’t forget Lane’s staple turquoise soles, which give the boots a pop of unexpected color. Their true-to-size fit makes shopping easy, and the soft insole makes them a comfortable pick.Best for: The dancehall; $330, laneboots.com

Cinch
Cinch might be new to the boot market, but the all-leather construction of their boots is rooted in the handmade traditions of the company’s Texas factory. The channel-stitch base on these women’s Cinch Classic Caiman Wingtip boots with lemonwood pegging and RS1 (rubber) sole overlay means they’ll hold up longer than a traditional leather sole. And the caiman wingtip overlays on the soft goat vamp stand out from the crowd. Best for: Round 1 at

the NFR; $480, cinchjeans.com

Ariat
The Rooster Tail boot in honey brown from Ariat features the company’s ATS (Ariat Torque Stability) footbed technology,
with a moisture-wicking gel footbed and heel stabilizer for support. The lightweight, ergonomic, composite-forked shank enhances stability and reduces fatigue, which makes for longer, more comfortable days. Pair that with the intricate embroidery on the boot tops and the distressed vamp leather, and you’ve got a boot perfect for all-day wear. Best for: Running errands; $250, ariat.com

Old Gringo
Eye candy for Western fashionistas, these Southwest-inspired Old Gringo Lakota boots are hand-embroidered with a 4-inch toe and a 1-inch heel. Ernie Tarut (the “old gringo”) founded the company in 2000, after 30 yearsof leather manufacturing experience, and partnered with Yan Ferry and his 30 years of European design and boot-making experience. These handmade boots are not your average cowboy kicks.Best for: Cattle Baron’s Ball; $570, oldgringoboots.com

Lucchese
Sam Lucchese, the founder of Lucchese Boot Company, began in San Antonio, Texas, in 1883, first making boots for the U.S. Cavalry, and all the company’s boots are still made in the U.S.A. Brass studs like the ones on these Lucchese Style M5705 dress boots have popped up everywhere from runways to cowgirls’ tack. The hand-tooled overlay on the camel tumbled aspen vamp and quarter shows subtle Western flair, and the classic comfort of Lucchese is upheld with a soft
leather lining. Best for: PRCA Ladies’Luncheon and Fashion Show; $440, lucchese.com

Justin
It doesn’t get much more exotic than elephant hide. Justin’s AQHA Remuda Series (Style #8555) uses cognac safari elephant hide with 13-inch brown Jurassic goat tops for a boot that would hold up to cowboying from the African savannah to the American plains. The broad square toe is an all-business look that’s currently “in.” Justin’s J-Flex Comfort System features a leather-covered cushioned insole and triple-density insole board, giving them an already broken-in feel. Best for: The high roller suite; $410, justinboots.com

Corral
Can you tell our editors are into the wingtip style right now? Corral nails it with the black and bronze lizard hide in a square-toe in Style A1418. The black and brown leather makes this the perfect boot to go with any color suit (or black or brown felt hats), and the 1-inch heel is comfortable for walking to and from business meetings. Corral is known for well-crafted soles that fit like gloves from day one. These boots don’t disappoint. Best for: The boardroom; $322, corralboots.com

Twisted X
Women’s Ruffstock (Style WRS 0019) from Twisted X is designed for the cowgirl who spends her days in the saddle. Its riding heel provides in-stirrup comfort, the thick heel rand holds a heavier spur, and the chocolate top leathers are soft for maximum ankle mobility. Our tester loved the rubber soles for work in the winter months and the soft leather that allowed for ankle movement in the stirrup. Best for: Breaking colts $195, twistedxboots.com

Macie Bean
Don’t let the sharp-looking black “cracktacular” distressed leather on these Macie Bean (Style 9019) boots fool you; they don’t just look good, they are good. Our Texas tester said the boots were comfortable in and out of the saddle from the moment she put them on. “The first day I wore them I was on my feet all day, and my feet stayed comfortable,” she reported. “And the black and brown leather goes with just about everything.” Best for: Chasing cans $218, andersonbean.com

Stetson
This Stetson Buckaroo boot has a 15-inch top to protect a cowboy’s legs from sagebrush, and our tester said
the boot’s tough leather soles, “Really were comfortable to ride and process in.” The lower, “dogger” stacked heel is slightly angled to cialis buy make walking and riding comfortable, and the lemonwood peg and brass nail construction makes them hardy for long days in the saddle in the Rocky Mountains. Best for: Day work $280, stetsonboots.com

Georgia
This Georgia Waterproof Wellington Pull-On boot (Style G4254) is built to handle whatever out-of-the-saddle beatings our Montana tester gave them, especially in the time of year when he isn’t quite ready for snow boots. The 100-percent Georgia Waterproof System guarantees that the full-grain leather hung tough through chainsaw and corral work. The Goodyear-welt construction rubber sole is heat, chemical, and slip resistant. Best

for: Building hay feeders $170, georgiaboot.com

Ranch owner Jerry Rowse pops up on a distant ridge on his horse, and four other guests are spread out elsewhere in the big pasture. I nudge Izzy into action, and we push the cows that come across our path to- ward the big water tank. After an hour or so of roaming separately, the group gathers and drives the entire bunch back to the ranch, about five miles away.

“We have a lot of guests that worry that when they come here they’re not gonna get enough ridin’,” says Rowse. “And usually by about Wednesday, we’re pretty much to the middle of ’em.” Visitors get as much riding as they can handle, in other words.

The daily plan for my three- day visit has been pretty simple: Do whatever it takes, and keep going.

“We ride for a purpose,” says Rowse’s wife Tammy. “You have a job to get done. It’s not just a leisurely little trail ride. You got somethin’ to do. You gotta get somethin’ checked. That’s a big thing to a lot of people.”

The 1 + 1 Ranch spans nearly 9,000 acres of archetypical grassland and is located outside Burwell in Central Nebraska, about 90 miles north of Kearney in the Sand Hills region. Tammy’s great- great-grandfather came to the area in the 1880s and actually donated some of the land for Burwell when it was laid out in 1884. Jerry’s family roots here date to the 1880s as well. This was Sioux and Pawnee territory, though the American Indians and buffalo were gone by then. Historic and restored Fort Hartsuff, eight miles outside Burwell, was built in 1874 to protect settlers and keep the hostile tribes from each other’s throats.

Cattle ranchers came relatively late to the land we’re riding today. “They thought this was all sand dunes up here,” Jerry explains. “They thought there was no grass...no water. So nobody come up in this country until the 1880s.” Turned out there was plenty of both. Today, Nebraska produces more beef per square mile than any other state.

Around here (and much of the West), brands are like family heirlooms, passed down from generation to generation, and Lyle Worden, a rancher friend of the Rowses’, gave his 1 + 1 brand to Jerry and Tammy. “A great honor,” says Tammy about the unique wedding present. “That just don’t happen.”

The Rowses only take ten guests at a time. “I want to know our guests,” says Tammy about serving meals in the house she grew up in. “And I want them to get to know us. I want to eat a meal with them. So it’s important to us to keep the smaller numbers and interact with our guests.”

Most of the ranch’s registered Quarter Horses are born and raised right here. And Tammy’s niece Erin, the 2007 Miss Rodeo Nebraska, helps with riding instruction. “I’ll work with guests on how to hold their body, how to control their movements, how to work with their horse,” she explains.

Nebraska’s Sand Hills are an often-overlooked part of the West, but I found the wide-open ter-rain to

be beautiful. And we saw a lot of it. After breakfast and saddling our own horses (there’s help for beginners), we’d mount up for the day’s ride. Six hours horseback is a pretty typical day for this place. Since this was the fall roundup, much of my time was spent gathering in pastures with the rest of the crew, which always included Jerry’s dog Aggie, a well-trained Australian Shepherd that had no fear and no quit.

“She can be kind of like another hired man,” admires Rowse. “Even better ’cause she don’t talk back!” We’d usually gather 100 cow-calf pairs at a time, sometimes two pastures a day. After getting doctored and vaccinated, some would be turned out again and others would be shipped off to the feedlot. Rowse and local cowboys handled the gates and chutes, then we’d ride fences and make sure the windmills and water pumps were working.

While mending some fence with Erin, she points out her favorite vantage point: “We’re gonna ride up this hill right here. It’s my most favorite lookout spot on this entire ranch. You can see a very, very, very, long ways.”
And seeing it all while loping on that fine horse Izzy, I felt like I could see far into the past—and hopefully the future.

William F. “Buffalo Bill” Cody behind the scenes at sells-Floto Circus.

Photo courtesy Buffalo Bill Museum and Grave, Golden, Colo.

The Leavenworth area was the jumping-off point for wagons heading west to the Great Plains and beyond, and Will later wrote about being impressed by the beauty of the surrounding scenery. He was also enthralled by the “vast number of white-covered wagons” camped in the valley, and his sister Julia later wrote that Will was so excited that he declared that he wanted to go, too. In this period, Will had his first encounter with American Indians, members of the Kickapoo tribe, who came to trade with his father who had established a small trading post on their land. They were friendly, and the Will learned as much as he could about them. The peaceful nature of this first meeting and his fascination with the American Indians served him well during his years as a hunter and Army scout. And likely drawing from his father’s brave example, Will would later employ African American buffalo soldiers in his Wild West shows and advocate for American Indian and women’s rights.
William F. Cody (1846–1917) lived in one of America’s most exciting eras and went on to commodify his unique experiences in the West before audiences’ eyes. A pioneer and a pioneering showman, he built his fame and business thanks to real frontier experiences. And setting the mold for modern celebrities, he became famous for being famous. Unlike modern celebrities, however, his performances were based on fact—largely the story of being thrust into adulthood. More than 1,500 dime novels, several silent films, wealth, and world travels followed, but it all started with his true exploits. And through it all, he never lost his soul.

In 1857 Isaac became ill, still in a weakened condition from the knife wound, and died. At age 11, Will was now the man of the household. He later wrote that “this sad event left my mother and the family in poor circumstances, and I determined to follow the plains for a livelihood for them and myself.” Will took a job working for Russell, Majors and Waddell, which sent wagon trains filled with freight to Santa Fe and other points west. Will made the first of several trips across the Great Plains, from Leavenworth to Salt Lake City and back, trips that made strong impressions on him. He also marveled at the thrilling stories he heard from the other teamsters in the outfit and participated in his first buffalo hunt. (“The country was alive with buffaloes,” he later wrote.) Over the next several years, Will took odd jobs and attended school in Leavenworth, but school held little fascination for him. He’d had a taste of the great expanse of the West and was enthralled.

“I longed for the cool air of the mountains,” he later wrote. “And to the mountains I determined to go.”

When gold was discovered in Colorado, he joined the “Rush to the Rockies” of 1859. Failing to make his fortune in the Colorado gold fields, Will returned to Kansas and joined the Pony Express. Stories about Cody’s employment with the Pony Express have come under fire because of contradictory information about dates and activities. Cody, like many Westerners of his time, didn’t let the facts get in the way of a good story, but scholars tend to give him the benefit of the doubt on this issue, as he had already worked as a cattle herder, messenger, and teamster for Russell, Majors and Waddell, the company that started the Pony Express. And enough of his contemporaries linked him to the Pony Express to entirely dismiss the claim. (His autobiographies, the biographies written by his sisters Julia and Helen, and accounts by boyhood friends mention the participation, as well.)

The conflict between pro-slavery and anti-slavery factions in Kansas came to a head with the beginning of the Civil War in 1861, when 15-year-old Will joined a group of Jayhawkers—Kansas guerillas that preyed on their pro-slavery neighbors in Missouri. When his mother Mary Ann found out, she made him quit the group, saying they were little more than “horse thieves.” Shortly after, most of his former companions were killed in a raid.

“I grew up among some of the roughest men and some of the most desperate characters that ever infested the border of civilization, and had it not been for my mother, I too, might have died with my boots on,” Cody later wrote. “God bless our mothers.”

He went on to support women’s suffrage, and stated that it was due, in large part, to the respect he had for his mother. The death of Mary Ann in 1863 was hard on 18-year-old Will. He became despondent and later wrote that after two months of carousing and “under the influence of bad whiskey, I awoke to find myself a soldier in the Seventh Kansas.” Cody served in the Union Army from 1864 until the end of the war in 1865.

In the aftermath of the Civil War, Will found employment providing meat for the expanding Kansas Pacific railroad. Assisted by his faithful horse Brigham, he proved to be an effective buffalo hunter. Will wrote that, “as soon as one buffalo would fall, Brigham would take me so close to the next, that I could almost touch it with my gun.” His favorite hunting rifle was an 1866 Springfield, which he nicknamed “Lucretia Borgia,” after the most famous member of the Machiavellian Borgia family, which gained power in Renaissance Italy by murdering its opponents. During one 17-month period Will killed 4,280 buffalo as a meat hunter, earning him his famous nickname: Buffalo Bill.

When Buffalo Bill finished his contract with the railroad, he sought employment with the U.S. Army as a contract scout. His work was sporadic, but he was effective and drew the attention of Generals Carr and Sheridan, who frequently engaged him to scout for them and their men. He continued to hunt buffalo as needed, supplying meat for the Army.

Buffalo Bill’s time with the Army coincided with the final, bloody years of the Indian Wars. From 1868 to 1869, he took part in nine battles, the most significant happening at Summit Springs, in northeastern Colorado. A group of Cheyenne Dog Soldiers (a warrior class known for their aggressiveness) led by Tall Bull had been attacking white settlements in Nebraska and Kansas. Tall Bull’s attacks had resulted in the deaths of many settlers and led to the capture of two white women. Guided by William F. Cody, Frank North, and Luther North, the Fifth Cavalry attacked Tall Bull’s village near Summit Springs. They rescued one of the female captives, but the other was killed when the fighting began. General Carr, leader of the command, credited Cody with killing Tall Bull himself. Over the next three years, Buffalo Bill was in several actions, one of which even earned him the Congressional Medal of Honor.

During this time, Buffalo Bill somehow met Ned Buntline, a dime novelist and journalist, likely at Fort McPherson along the North Platte River in western Nebraska. When Buntline returned back East, he serialized a new tale, “Buffalo Bill: The King of the Border Men,” in 11 issues of the New York Weekly from 1869–1870. Buntline did not invent Buffalo Bill, as some historians have suggested, but “Buffalo Bill: The King of the Border Men” introduced him to the public and was the first of many dime novels to featured Cody (most of which are entirely fictional). Buntline and Cody later starred together in a stage production, which started Cody on the road to celebrity.

After years of a strife-filled marriage, William F. Cody and his wife Louisa reconciled in 1911. This photo was likely taken in 1914 while the show was in Washington state.

Photo courtesy Buffalo Bill Museum and Grave, Golden, Colo.

a separate residence. When he filed for divorce in 1904, the news was a front-page scandal, and the acrimonious divorce trial was widely covered. (The judge refused the divorce petition, and the feuding Codys somewhat reconciled in their final years.)

Ned Buntline’s story was turned into a play, which showed at the Bowery Theater in New York City, in 1872. Buffalo Bill traveled to Chicago and New York and was met with curiosity and awe by members of society. He was invited on stage between acts and introduced to the audience. Gazing out on a sea of earnest faces, he recognized an opportunity and, within a year, ventured into show business. Buffalo Bill’s acting career began on December 16, 1872, when he joined fellow scout Texas Jack Omohundro and Ned Buntline on stage in Chicago. Written at the last minute by Buntline, the play was titled, “Scouts of the Prairie.” Cody and Omohundro went on to form the Buffalo Bill Combination, which toured playhouses around the country until the 1880s. They even got their friend Wild Bill Hickok to join them on stage for a short run.

When Buffalo Bill learned that an expedition led by George Armstrong Custer had discovered gold on Cheyenne and Lakota lands in the Black Hills, he cut the 1876 theatrical season short and headed West again. Scouting with the Fifth Cavalry in Nebraska, Buffalo Bill guided a party of troopers to a group of Cheyenne warriors at Warbonnet Creek—warriors who were reportedly on their way north to join the American Indians who had defeated Custer at the Battle of the Little Bighorn just three weeks prior. Eyewitness Christian Madsen, a soldier with the Fifth Cavalry who later became a well-known lawman, recorded that Cody was ahead of the party and fired at Cheyenne sub-chief Yellow Hair, killing him. Yellow Hair went by that name thanks to a trophy he wore—the scalp of a blonde woman. According to Cody, after he killed Yellow Hair, he scalped him and waved it in the air, shouting “The first scalp for Custer!” When he returned to show business that fall, he incorporated the incident into the play “Red Right Hand.” The story gained instant notoriety and became central to publicizing Buffalo Bill’s Combination and later, Buffalo Bill’s Wild West show.

In 1883, Buffalo Bill had the vision to transcend the limitations of the stage, later writing: “I conceived the idea of organizing a large company of Indians, cowboys, Mexican vaqueros, famous riders and expert lasso throwers, with accessories of stage coach, emigrant wagons, bucking horses and a herd of buffaloes, with which to give a realistic entertainment of wild life on the plains.”

That spring he traveled through Nebraska, Colorado, and Wyoming, gathering together animals and performers, who joined him in rehearsing the new show in Columbus, Neb. But his performers weren’t actors, they were the genuine articles—frontier scout Frank North, mountain man John Y. Nelson, Texas cowboy Buck Taylor, and sharpshooter A.H. Bogardus. Some, like Bogardus, even joined Cody in investing in the show. Buffalo Bill also included former American Indian foes, who welcomed the opportunity to leave the crippling reservations. After several months of rehearsal, the show premiered in Omaha, Neb., on May 17, 1883, before a crowd of over 10,000. A local newspaper account reported that the audience “cheered at trifles and blazed with enthusiasm at any demonstration of merit. The picture was an extraordinary one, such as we are not likely to see again.” But they would see it again and again over the next 30 years. Cody’s idea was a hit and Buffalo Bill’s Wild West became an American institution.

Buffalo Bill’s acting troupe traveled throughout the U.S. between 1874 and 1886, putting on plays about the American West.

Photo courtesy Buffalo Bill Museum and Grave, Golden, Colo.

He had a tremendous run of success, though uncompromising creditors and a season of bad weather forced him to sell the show in 1913. An agreement with one of his creditors, Harry Tammen, forced Buffalo Bill to tour with the Sells Floto Circus for two years, and when that agreement concluded in 1916, Cody joined the Oklahoma-based 101 Ranch Wild West. When William F. Cody died of kidney failure at age 71 at his sister’s home in Denver in 1917, telegrams poured in from well-wishers around the world, and his coffin lay in state in the rotunda of the Colorado State Capitol. By that time, he had been recognized for using his wealth and position to speak out for equal rights and was respected for being more than a showman. He had seen his father stand up against slavery and had himself employed people of many ethnicities and races in his Wild West, including former American Indian enemies, giving them equal pay and advocating for their rights, even providing opportunities for them to meet with American Presidents. He showed that cowgirls like Lulu Parr could ride and that markswomen like Annie Oakley could shoot as well, or better, than their male counterparts. And he had spoken out for providing women employment rights and the right to vote.

“Let them do any kind of work that they see fit, and if they do it as well as men give them the same pay,” he had stated.

Buffalo Bill supported—and demonstrated—the idea that America’s diversity and opportunity are what make it unique. Imperfect and contradictory in many ways, he understood that progress was necessary and supported the settlement of the West yet also wanted people to recognize that maintenance of wilderness areas was critical to the lifeblood of the nation. Buffalo Bill advocated for the preservation of wild places and supported President Theodore Roosevelt’s National Park initiatives. He spoke publicly for the preservation of the buffalo and against their wholesale slaughter, despite having contributed to that slaughter himself.

A legend in his own time, William F. Cody became something much larger: Buffalo Bill, symbol of America’s frontier era and the shaping of a nation.

1–3
Timed Event Championship
Guthrie, Okla.
800-595-7433, lazye.com
Considered the “Ironman” of rodeo events, the Timed Event Championship has cowboys compete in five different timed events over two
days. Don’t miss: The Roper’s Cantina, with a full-service bar and live post-event entertainment, that overlooks the arena.

7–9
Southeastern Cowboy Gathering
Cartersville, Ga.
770-387-1300, boothmuseum.org
This celebration of cowboy culture takes place at the Booth Western Art Museum, the largest permanent viagra soft exhibition space for Western art in the country. Don’t miss: Saturday’s chuckwagon cook-off, where teams prepare beans, meat, potatoes, bread, and desserts.

13–16
Western Masters Art Show & Sale
Great Falls, Mont.
406-781-0550, westernmastersartshow.com
Many of the country’s premiere Western artists converge at this four-day sale. Don’t miss: Speed art at the Quick Draw event on Friday and Saturday.

14 –16
The Russell Auction
Great Falls, Mont.
406-727-8787, cmrussell.org
This yearly auction benefits the C.M. Russell Museum. Don’t miss: Art in Action, featuring 26 artists working live in front of a crowd. Pieces are auctinoned off at the end of the day.

15–7
Road to the Horse
Murfreesboro, Tenn.
325-736-5000, roadtothehorse.com
The colt-starting competition has gone international with two teams of two trainers facing off. Don’t miss: Meeting Team
U.S.A., Obbie Schlom and Sarah Winters, at the clinician meet and greet Friday morning.

22–24
Cowgirl UP! Art from the Other Half of the West
Wickenburg, Ariz.
928-684-2272, westernmuseum.org
The best female Western artists show off their work in this unique show and sale. Don’t miss: Sunday’s chuckwagon breakfast and artist’s
quick draw.

25
Oakdale Cowboy Museum Testicle Festival
Oakdale, Calif.
209-847-5163, oakdaletesticlefestival.com
The slogan of this rocky mountain oyster fry-up is “30 years and still hangin!” Don’t miss: The nearby Oakdale Cowboy Museum’s exhibits on the ranching heritage of California’s Central Valley.

1. Handlebar

2. Horseshoe
A more modern style favored by bikers as well as cowboys, the horseshoe-style moustache extends from the upper lip down to the jaw line and resembles an upside-down horseshoe. Hulk Hogan and Sam Elliott are long-time supporters of this style. A horseshoe moustache requires frequent trimming to prevent beard growth from obscuring the look.

3. Walrus
A thick, bushy style reminiscent of the whiskers of its namesake, a good walrus moustache should cover the entire upper lip and sometimes the entire mouth. It’s a distinguished, no-nonsense look favored by George Armstrong Custer and, more recently, by actor Wilford Brimley. Bonus: The thick, burly Walrus only requires occasional trimming.

4. Pancho Villa
Named for the infamous revolutionary of northern Mexico, the Pancho Villa is a thicker version the Fu Manchu-style moustache. Similar in appearance to the horseshoe, the Pancho Villa differs in that it’s grown from the upper lip only and does not incorporate whiskers along the cheeks. Like the horseshoe, careful trimming is needed to keep the Pancho Villa distinct and full of flair.

5. Pencil-thin
A thin, straight moustache conveys a look of gentlemanly distinction and has graced the upper lips of some of the most powerful men in the West. Ted Turner has long sported this style. In old Westerns, a pencil-thin mustache often also distinguished the villain from the fresh-faced hero. Its simplicity makes it easy to maintain with regular shaving

Zona was born in Deadwood and raised on the family farm in Newell under the cottonwood trees back in the 1930s. She rode horses and attended the one-room Webb elementary schoolhouse and played cowboys and Indians inside the phantom car. In her 20s, she moved to Chicago but always insisted that the Pullman was still there. I had a soft spot for Zona, a woman equal parts prairie tough and heart of gold, but I thought her boast was just stubborn South Dakota talk.

After a few wrong turns on dirt roads, Gayle and I had quickly mired the rental car up to its hubcaps in gumbo. I instinctively reverted to my teenage self and gunned the engine, making Dukes of Hazard-style turns and slides through the muck. And there it was, a weather-beaten Pullman car surrounded by a copse of trees and miles and miles of prairie. The windows and the seats were long gone, but the splendid old woodwork trim and stovepipe remained, as did the faded old number, “2966.” It was a remnant of the old West, much like Zona herself, who was driven to the site the very next day by me, now piloting a car spackled with hardened gumbo.

Gayle and I have toured the area many times since, and I think the best of South Dakota lies in a semicircle about 65 miles west of Rapid City, encompassing some of the most extraordinary scenery in the entire West: The Black Hills area including Custer State Park, the Crazy Horse Memorial, Spearfish Canyon, and Deadwood. North of there lies the cattle-ranching hub of Belle Fourche, as well as Newell. The motorcycle mecca of Sturgis is to the southeast. The small town of Spearfish is midway between these sites and an ideal base for exploring the region.

Some people think that the only thing west of Rapid City is Mount Rushmore. The size, scale, and artistry of that stone memorial can indeed cause your jaw to drop. Alas, most visitors snap a photo, buy a T-shirt, and then make a beeline to Yellowstone.

That’s too bad, because you could argue that the West begins here. The Black Hills town of Deadwood is where Wild Bill Hickock and Calamity Jane lived and died and where the fading cow towns of Belle Fourche and Newell run hard up against the Wyoming border. Custer led his army and met his fateful end just a few days ride west of here at Little Big Horn. The Black Hills, which lie in the state’s southwestern corner and have been dubbed “an island of trees in a sea of grass,” also shelter hot springs, lakes, and dramatic needles, or spires of granite. Mount Rushmore lies on its eastern flanks and a few miles away, in the heart of the hills, is Custer State Park. This 71,000-acre preserve is the second largest state park in the country (only Adirondack State Park in New York is bigger). Custer found gold here in French Creek in 1874, and it became a park in 1897, a mere eight years after South Dakota joined the union and 21 years after the Battle of the Little Big Horn.

But it’s the living history that engages me. Drive the 18-mile Wildlife Loop Road, and it’s not uncommon to come upon some of the park’s 1,300 bison ambling up the road ahead of you. And seeing them suddenly race across the plains to join hundreds of other bison a mile or two away is a thrilling and timeless sight. Only a century ago, the Lakota Sioux hunted the tatanka with bows and arrows and relied on them for food, clothing, and shelter. Nowadays, every fall, ranchers in pickup trucks and horseback round up hundreds of head in the park to limit the numbers, vaccinate and brand the calves, and separate the yearling males.

Along with bison, the park is also home to pronghorn antelope, wild turkeys, mule deer, elk, mountain goats, whitetail deer, bighorn sheep, and mountain lions. There are four lodges in the park, including my favorite, Sylvan Lake Lodge, a graceful stone and timber structure designed by a disciple of Frank Lloyd Wright. It’s a short walk down to the deep, cold waters of spire-filled Sylvan Lake.

The “other” Black Hills monument was the brainchild of artist Korczak Ziolkowski. He had worked on Mount Rushmore and began carving the Crazy Horse Memorial in 1948 by hand onto the face of Thunderhead Mountain. He died before it was completed, but his wife and children are overseeing the work to complete the bust of the Lakotan chief. You can see the face from many vantage points in Custer State Park, but the closest you can get is the annual Crazy Horse Volksmarch, a ten-mile climb held the second weekend in June.

Further north in Deadwood, you’re still apt to lose your money, as in Wild Bill’s day, though the culprit is not a scoundrel with a six shooter. Now it’s a slot machine in one of the 80 or so gambling halls in the revitalized town. Legal gambling is what paid to restore the Victorian architecture, brick streets, and trolleys.

The drive through Spearfish Canyon is like entering a dramatic natural cathedral of rock, pine, and spruce that reaches up to the sky on either side of you. Though you might want to avoid Sturgis (14 miles northeast from Deadwoood) from August 8–14, when 700,000-plus visitors rumble into the tiny town for the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally. The rest of the year, cowboys can visit the Fort Meade Museum, which has a fine collection of material relating to Fort Meade, built here in 1878 to guard the locals and the gold diggers from marauding Sioux. It was manned by the 7th Calvary, which reformed after the disaster at Little Big Horn.

Belle Fourche, “beautiful fork” in French, was named for the confluence of the Belle Fourche and Redwater Rivers and Hay Creek and is on the northwest edge of Dakota Territory’s Black Hills. The 1876 gold rush also brought farmers and ranchers, who populated the plains with cattle. The Fremont, Elkhorn, and Missouri River railroad rail line that came through Belle in 1890 made it an ideal hub for shipping cattle. The business got very big very quickly, and herds lined up for miles. Belle’s saloons and brothels thrived, as a result, and by 1895 as many as 2,500 carloads of cattle were shipped from the town per month, making it the world’s largest livestock shipping point in its day.

Relive some of that glory at the Black Hills Roundup Rodeo in July. There are still cattle auctions in Belle Fourche and the Western shop on Main Street is still aimed at locals, not tourists, but it’s considerably sleepier than it was a century ago. The old architecture remains authentic and a little worse for wear, but the town is not gussied up like Deadwood. Make sure to check out the one-room schoolhouse that my mother-in-law attended in Newell. It’s been hauled down to Belle and is now a museum, displaying the original desks, blackboard, and globe. It’s as close as you’ll get to a real prairie school. We even found her scrapbook there.

Twenty three miles north, over undulating land that still feels like the floor of an ocean (which it was 65 million years ago) and past pronghorn antelope that leap under cobalt blue skies, you’ll come to the town of Newell, population 602, where Zona grew up. Newell celebrated its centennial last year, but the commercial area is largely boarded up and covered with thin paint. About twice an hour a pickup truck rumbles down the main street, and some wiry ranch kid gets out and goes to the Coke machine. The rooming house that had once belonged to Zona’s mom remains, as does the old town hall, where they still have roller-skating Fridays identical to those that Zona attended. Newell feels like it’s barely hanging on, held together by the remaining families and their dedication to the ranch lifestyle.

Twilight, about 20 miles north of Newell, is nothing but a name on a road any more—a ribbon of gravel that runs across an undulating seascape of prairie, with occasional buttes in the distance. Zona’s grandparents, the Livingston’s, homesteaded in Twilight in the 1880s. Her older brother Warren was born on the old Twilight homestead before the family moved to Newell. He told me that he used to bring his .22 rifle to school as a 6-year-old to “make the walk more interesting,” by shooting rabbits and coyotes and selling their pelts for $1 a piece.

The traces of Livingston’s history have since been swallowed up by the earth. The wind here is relentless, and our GPS was woefully inadequate, off the mark as we crisscrossed the handful of dirtroads in Twilight. The area is still ranched, remote, and as hauntingly beautiful as ever.

Last summer, we returned to Newell once again, this time to bury Zona among the family headstones that reach back to the 1880s. Our 8-year-old daughter, Emma, whose middle name is Livingston, was with us this time. A local agreed to dig a hole for the urn but complained that, since it was August, the gumbo would be rock hard.

“You’ll have to backfill,” he told us matter-of-factly.

So there we stood on an August noon, two dozen family and friends and a minister, with the wind blowing softly in the 90-degree heat. Hundreds of yellow grasshoppers jumped chest high. When the time came, Gayle lowered the urn and then took solid lumps of gumbo and packed the grave. With her 90-year-old uncle holding his Stetson in hand, it might have been 1880 all over again.

We adjourned to the roadhouse for hamburgers and pop and family stories, while Emma sat on a 100-year-old saddle at the bar. Then we drove past the grain building with the faded Trisco Flour sign, and after a few more miles over rock-hard gumbo, we waved to the Pullman car, still standing after all these years.