Hell’s A-Roarin’ Horse Drive

Montana is as beautiful as she is unpredictable. Weather can change in a heartbeat, and that was never more evident than when I attended a recent edition of the Hell’s A-Roarin’ Horse Drive. I was prepared, but not for 39 degrees and a slow drizzle, which became an outright downpour. Seeing me soaked to the bone, a horseback gentleman reminded me that “sweet things melt in the rain” and in good cowboy fashion untied his slicker from the back of his saddle and handed it down to me.

We had assembled at the entrance of Yellowstone Park in Gardiner, Montana, where Hell’s A-Roarin’ Outfitters leads hunting and horseback-riding trips. Since 1982, owners Warren and Susan Johnson have also orchestrated a fundraising horse drive from the Gardiner Rodeo Grounds through the small town of 900 up to the Johnson’s ranch in Jardine, where the horses and mules will spend the summer and fall. Tucked between Yellowstone National Park, the Absaroka-Beartooth Wilderness, and the Custer Gallatin National Forest, Gardiner attracts cowboys and cowgirls from all corners of the earth — Italy, France, Croatia, and Australia to name a few — to ride alongside the Johnsons for this event.

For the past few years, the couple have concentrated on raising money for Action Trackchairs to support disabled veterans. These high-tech, all-terrain chairs can move through snow, sand, and up to eight inches of water, giving individuals independence to enjoy the outdoors without having to rely on others. Features include (but aren’t limited to) gun racks, fishing-pole inserts, backpack handles, and even snowplow kits. The tricked-out versions can cost $20,000 a piece, and the Johnsons have bought three track chairs a year for the last six years. 

Before things got really Western, the Johnsons’ herd of horses and mules were held at the Gardiner Rodeo Grounds, where people congregated to take a sneak peek at the stock prior to the start of the drive. Riders saddled their horses, threw ropes, warmed up in the arena, and made small talk with the locals.

 When the gate opened at precisely 2 p.m., about 300 horses and mules began to make their way through town, darting between parked cars and street signs. At the end of Main Street, they turned toward the town of Jardine and began their seven-mile ascent up the twisting mountainside. Large boulders, steep ravines, and abundant wildlife surrounded on every side. If you paid close enough attention, you could hear running water from a shrub-choked stream on one side of the road. 

 As we climbed, the views took my breath away — just beautiful vastness of untouched ground, no structures, and sky as far as the eye could see. Spectators perched on every hillside along the way, arms waving and cameras firing. One voice rose above the rest. “Hold ’em back!” Warren Johnson called out to the riders, who then began to crisscross the road. The horses and mules kept together, moving at a steady pace. Outriders prevented any breakaways. 

Midway through the drive, the stock were allowed a cool-down period in a large open field. It was a brief moment for everyone to catch their breath and take it all in. From here the land, mountains, and sky created a pristine backdrop. But the weather was proving stubborn. The rain and sleet continued for the duration of the drive. Water ran down the road and off cowboy hats. Still, everyone pushed on. 

The last leg of the drive you could hear the cracking of Johnson’s whip. The horses’ hair was all slicked off. It was so cold their breath rising created an illusion of dust. But everyone sensed it and smiled: Summer pasture was just around the bend. 

And dinner and an event-filled evening were just a ticket away at the Jardine rodeo grounds, where upright patio heaters were a warm welcome. I sat directly under one and squeezed water out of my messy bun and settled in for dinner, the benefit auction, silent auction, live music, and dance. Due to the relentless rain that morning, special measures had been taken for the auction and dance to be held later. Many hands might make light the load, but even with all the help, it had been a huge undertaking. Trenches had been dug along the outside perimeter of the auction tent. Gravel had been hauled in to fill the low spots, and makeshift coverings had been rigged to protect the power supply. 

Nothing had dampened the spirits of volunteers, who had been busy all day in the cook tent preparing a dinner of pulled-pork sandwiches, sautéed cabbage, and baked beans in cast-iron pots. People quickly grabbed themselves a plate of food and found a place to sit down. 

It wasn’t long before the tent had filled and Texas auctioneer Jason Owen took to the floor, hyping up the crowd in no time. Auction items included custom belt buckles from Montana Silversmiths, bison chaps, original artwork, a custom-tooled bridle, and a Coach shotgun. Sam Elliott and wife Katharine Ross generously donated the famous hat Elliott wore in his 1991 TV western, Conagher. Signed, it brought an astounding winning bid of $15,000. All told, the efforts of family, sponsors, and staff paid off handsomely for the veterans, grossing $75,000. 

The evening moved from high point to high point, closing with the Jeff Menuey Band’s good old-fashioned country music. It was a tent filled with dancing, clapping, and happy campers warmed to the core by the camaraderie of horses and cowboys, music and a good cause — and the knowledge that some vets would be going all-terrain in new chairs very soon.

Learn more about Hell’s A-Roarin’ Horse Drive at hellsaroarinhorsedrive.com.

From our May/June 2024 issue.

PHOTOGRAPHY: Erika Haight