Quarter-Circle Ranch
The Quarter-Circle Circle Ranch is nestled at the north base of Van Tassel Mountain in the upper Cochetopa area, Saguache County. At an altitude of 9,500 feet above sea level, summers are relatively mild, but short. If you have seasonal improvements scheduled, such as fence building, you had best not tarry, for permafrost will inevitably sideline any required manual excavations.
Margaret Besecker, the owner and operator of the Quarter-Circle Circle Ranch had already acquired the experience of a seasoned ranch hand by the name of Les. Les was an expert with every aspect of rustic ranch operation, but at the age of 72, his wisdom was outlasting his physical attributes. Although there were fond memories of introducing fine horse flesh to the concept of a saddle, his body now told a more complete story with stitch tracks and bent limbs. As a result, mother needed someone who brought brawn into the mix to assist the wise experience and attributes that were still within Les.
In 1961, most men were considered tall if they were able to proclaim the 6-foot mark. By such standards, Stan was a mountain of a man. Standing 6 foot, 6 inches and pushing the needle toward the 250-pound mark, his lean mass was more of a novelty than a concern by my mother’s way of thinking. Although Margaret did not have the opportunity to thoroughly interview the prospect, the Gunnison Employment Agency was under the impression that the lengthy drink of water had brains and experience as well as obvious physical stature.
While mother drove Stan the 50-mile distance from Gunnison to the ranch, the projected perfect specimen was eager to supply her with a verbal portfolio. By such accounts, he was expert in the operations of a chainsaw as well as shifting the two-speed rear axle on a Ford F-400 truck. As a matter of fact, his declaration of expertise had no boundaries. He was an authority in every conceivable discipline.
Fifty-plus years ago, the standard wage for a hired hand was $125 a month, plus room and board. Margaret was soon to discover that the meals for this monstrosity of a human being would equal a side of beef for the same duration. With such an insatiable appetite, expectations of productivity would be supreme as well. Mother would soon realize a new definition of disappointment.
After a breakfast of several stacks of pancakes, six eggs and a greater portion of ham, Stan was ready for the first day on the clock. Les, on the other hand, was not. Les described the first night in the bunkhouse with the new arrival as a hostile atmosphere. Mother passed it off as difference in personalities and escorted “Sensational Stan” in the direction of the truck, while Les ate a “reasonable” breakfast and made his way out to where corrals were being constructed.
While ushering Stan through a checklist of chores that needed to be accomplished, Margaret found herself with the unpleasant task of erasing declared attributes from Stan’s brag list. Stan could not drive the ranch truck without grinding off a half pound of metal shavings on every shift. He did not understand the difference between commercial saw logs and corral poles and failed to regularly oil the saw chain which scorched the bar and rendered the tool useless after a few minutes. While mother dressed down the rather large man, he was always respectful and apologetic. With stern resolve, Mother informed Stan that being that he had cut the 14-foot long saw logs, he could figure out how to load the wet (still live) trees on the truck he could not drive. Considering the logs weighed several hundred pounds each — under normal circumstances a noteworthy task — he delivered the astonishing load without so much as breaking a sweat.
All in all, Mother would resort to tasking the newly acquired anthropological deficit with cleaning the corrals, a job he surely could not screw up. However, that proved to be beyond his comprehension, for he thought that if he dumped the byproduct in the irrigation ditches it would automatically spread itself over the hay meadow. He was a waste of space and mother let him know it!
After a week of constant trials and tribulations, Margaret informed Stan that he was being released from employment and drove him back to Gunnison. With a tearful departure, Stan once again extended bountiful regret for his exaggerated proficiencies and mother never expected to be exposed to the likes of him ever again. This would prove to be not quite right.
A couple weeks later Mother learned from Sheriff Cope that while Stan was “working” at the ranch, he was an escaped fugitive from the Colorado Penitentiary. He was captured and now society could rest easy. To further alarm the owner of the Cochetopa spread, Stan was classified as a habitual offender serving several life sentences for three murders, as well as committing “every other indiscretion in the book.” After Mother gained her wits, she took refuge in the thought that she would never hear of Stan again.
Winter was always an ordeal in the high country. However, such anticipated hardship would take a back seat to the abrupt realization that mother discovered she had breast cancer. Two days before Christmas she traveled to Denver preparing for a mastectomy. Five decades ago, this was the standard barbaric surgical response to such a malady. During the intrusive operation, Mother’s condition became critical as they were unable to control bleeding. The hospital representatives sent out a general appeal throughout Colorado for whole blood.
A few days later mother was weak, but was alive. Her spirits would become progressively lifted as she now focused on healing. In the midst of repairing her physical existence, mother became mystified by the conduct of the caregiving staff. It was as though they all knew a secret that they were not sharing. It did not seem to her that it was a health concern, but more like a matter of gossip about her. She was not alarmed, but she was becoming irritated by such imposed ignorance.
Eventually, the head surgeon had made the comment, “it must be nice to know people in high places.” After the third time of making such a statement, mother learned that Stan, who was still residing in the “Big House,” had mysteriously found out about mother’s condition and “volunteered” all the other residents of that state penal establishment to donate precious blood. As a matter of fact, so much plasma related fluid was donated that all hospitals in the metropolitan area were suddenly over-banked and had to redirect delivery to out-of-state hospitals.
Stan was finally able to contribute something that would impress the 105-pound lady, which triggered respect and perhaps even, admiration. Maybe it’s as simple as, everyone needs a “mother” in their lives.
(Rick Besecker is a native of the Gunnison Country and former Gunnison County Sheriff.)
"Hardship builds character."
TL;DR
Ranch in mountains, short summers. Fence work must be done fast before frost.
Owner Margaret hired ranch hand Les, 72, who was experienced but getting old. Needed someone stronger to help.
They hired Stan, a huge guy who claimed to be an expert at everything. But he was terrible at actual ranch work. After a week, Margaret fired him.
Turns out Stan was an escaped convict serving life sentences for murder. When Margaret got cancer, Stan secretly got all the inmates to donate blood to help her. Maybe he just wanted a "mother" figure.
