The Wood River Valley has been economically driven by many different industries over the years. It is a resource rich area that has allowed people of different cultures and trades to thrive, over time becoming a developed and diverse place. In the 16th century, Spanish colonists first brought sheep along with pigs, horses and other animals to North America through South America and Mexico (Trailing) (NASS). Many early settlers could have been responsible for the arrival of sheep in the Wood River Valley. But local history credits Hailey founder, John Hailey with the introduction of the trade. The Laidlaw, Friedman and Brockie families are listed as the first to establish herds after their arrival in 1884 (Evens) (Swaner). At this time, the mining boom was beginning and the recorded sheep population was about 14,000 (Evens). As mining grew and prospered in our valley, so did the sheep industry, both becoming larger aspects of the local and statewide economy. The numbers continued to climb over the next few decades. By 1890 a statewide population of 614,000 sheep was recorded. In 1918, due in part to an affluence of excellent rangeland, and partly to the demand for wool and lamb by the U.S. military, sheep outnumbered Idahoans nearly six to one, a population of 2.65 million (NASS) (Evens). During this time, the mines were producing 2 million dollars of ore per

year. But when the value of silver dropped, due to the collapse of plans to tie silver to U.S. currency, nearly all of them were shut down. Sandra Hofferber wrote, “In the 1920s, sheep ranching became the wealth of the valley” (Evens). The region was 'regarded as second only to Sydney, Australia as a sheep center' (SV History). Thousands of sheep were transported to Omaha, Missouri and Chicago by way of railroad from Hailey and surrounding towns like Fairfield, Picabo, Carey, Bellevue and Ketchum. Meat and wool from the Wood River Valley found its way to soldiers in two World Wars (Trailing). Sheep production lead to the increased demand for railway transportation to the otherwise secluded towns of Ketchum, Hailey and Bellevue. It is common belief that this was key in the discovery and founding of Sun Valley Resort (Austin Crofts). Early herders in Idaho were primarily of Scottish and Basque descent (James Laidlaw, mentioned above, was Scottish),

Sheep Herding in the Wood River Valley

{" in the 1920's, sheep herding

became the wealth of the valley" {

(SV History) (Laidlaw Jr.) cultures that have strong traditions in sheep herding. Today the tradition of transhumance herding - “seasonal migration of livestock and herders between

warm valleys and cool foothills” (Nat. Geographic). - is carried on by some Mexican, Chilean and Mongolian men, but the vast majority are Peruvian (Nat. Geographic). Second and third generation Basques have fallen out of sheep herding. It “was just a way for them to get here”, says Pat Bieter, a professor at Boise State University with a course in Basque studies. Though they came to herd, they have since established families and lives in the U.S. and Basques are now pursuing careers in law, accounting and the like (Swaner) (Huxhold). Each spring, Idaho sheep herders, including former senator John Peavey and Lava Lake Lamb lead bands of around 1,500 sheep hundreds of miles from the Snake River Plains, through the Wood River Valley and into the Sawtooth mountains to summer in high mountain pastures (Nat. Geographic). Now, this route leads right through the center of town, down Highway 75. In the fall,

they return by the same trail to warmer southern pastures. This return is what we celebrate as Trailing of the Sheep (Nat. Geographic). The festival is a celebration of

the rich culture that remains, dating back to the very beginning of our valley. Herders tell first hand stories and historians share the long history of herding traditions. The very purpose of herding is shown through demonstrations of cooking, shearing and wool crafts. Basque and Peruvian dancers and musicians gather in traditional dances and songs of their cultures (Medina). Trailing of The Sheep brings our community back to its roots. Herding was a crucial component in the founding our home. The festival helps to maintain an understanding

of its cultural importance. Sheep herding remains, to most, a novel way of remembering our past, but for some, it continues to be their livelihood. John Peavy, one of Idaho’s largest herding operations, uses range lambing primarily for financial reasons. Peavy says, "It costs less than a dollar a day to feed a ewe out on the range" (Wutz). Lava Lake Lamb, another large herder, uses range lambing for the health if their animals (Lava Lake). Though

{" Sheep herding

remains, to most, a novel way of

remembering our past" {

current herding has lost many of its cultural ties and numbers have dropped back to what they were in the 1880's, perhaps, says Tony Evans, Idaho Mountain Express writer, "the valley's modern recreation economy, and all the glitz that goes with it, is carried by [its] legacy."

The town of Ketchum was bustling on this chilly autumn day. The Idaho air was crisp

and biting, but locals and visitors alike gathered along Main Street to celebrate the historic cultures of the Wood River Valley at

the Trailing of the Sheep parade. Through the song and dance of Basque and Peruvian

peoples, spectators were connected with the cultures that shaped our valley. { {

May 12 The sheep stir with the early morning light and the crisp morning air bites at my cheeks. The sheep are a sight to behold in the morning, a sea of dirty fur, their warm breath rising in puffs in the chilly air. The dogs look on with watchful, weary gazes. Last night was a sleepless one. Snarls and barks filled the dark, echoing off the mountains. There are

many wolves in this area. The dogs fight them off in the night, never without consequence. In two days we've lost three of our smallest ewes. The dogs white coats are brown in spots with dry blood of nights prior. This morning finds one dog nursing an ankle stained vibrant red, holding it just off the ground. The another’s ear is torn and wet with blood. Today we'll

head farther north. The summer sun is getting hotter, but up in the mountains the air is clear and cool throughout the day. It's feels like home, like the high altitude chill of my mountain town in Peru. Even though the weather brings me a little closer to home, each day without my family is difficult. My oldest son plans to travel with me to

Idaho for a job in herding next time I return home. He dreads leaving home but there are many jobs and opportunities here. I wish these opportunities for my whole family. Solitude is something I've become accustomed to, but it is never easy being out here on your own. I have made peace with the quiet, become allies with the dogs and made the sheep my children. I am wary that my sons could ever do the same. * * * We have traveled north all day.

There is beauty, in the way the dust from a thousand stomping hooves dances in the shafts of light coming through the trees. And a comfort in the rhythmic movement of the herd, the way it moves as one. I have come to realize that there is a beauty in the simplicity of the life they lead, so mindless and uncomplicated. It is a great relief at times to be living it with them.

A glance at the journal of a

Sheep Herder

We are bedding in a clearing several miles north of our last stop. The sunsets are quite beautiful. The mountains and trees are vibrant with colors unlike that of the day and the clouds dance across the sky in ever changing shades of orange and pink. With the fading sun comes a cold night. The frost won't harm the sheep. They are hardy animals and their coats are exceptionally warm. My night will be far colder than theirs, even swathed in warm clothing and blankets. May 15 My leg continues to give me great trouble. My horse is newly trained and easily spooked. My previous horse was never this way, always calm and steady. As it is the first time out with this new animal, I must be more mindful of her fears. A protective bark by one of the dogs caused a frenzy this afternoon. She reared and I slipped from the saddle, falling clumsily to the ground. My left leg fared the worst in my fall. The calf has turned a frightening shade of inky blue and I am unable to walk. It is only with great difficulty I am able to move at all. The slightest shift causes excruciating pain. I have seen no improvement in the swelling and I am beginning to fear that a bone may be broken. I have decided to stay with the herd for a few more days and see if the pain will subside. Perhaps I will have to return south early. * * * I am lying awake long into the night. It is especially cold and my shivering sends sharp pain through my leg, keeping me from sleep. It is difficult to relax with worry keeping my muscles taught. I will try to settle my nerves

and get some rest, hopefully tomorrow will bring better fortune.