Furry Flurry
With our first significant furry flurry predicted for Thanksgiving in the Little Snake River Valley, we welcome you to enjoy the following poem by Mowgli, our wordsmith cat.
Furry Flurry
The wind turbulates
How to describe this terrifying Furry Flurry
I, so carefully perched so not to fear the bury
The source of this might in energetic light
Can only be described in extended and delightful fright
I try and try to focus on such an itty bitty sight
Those tantalizing flakes elude my every might
Swift as I can be, try as I may
You see these Furry Flurries just like fine chocolate melt away.
John St. Aubin Boyer — A Man Ahead of His Time
The Shepherd’s Journal, Vol. 7, May 1915, page 11
Australian Sheep-Shearing
Demonstration in Wyoming
Bitter Creek Scene of First Trial in U.S. – Prominent Men Interested in Plan to Better Systemization of Industry in West
Expected Plan Will Benefit Wool Industry – Experiment Big Success – Enables Western Product to Compete in Markets of the World
The following description of the wool-shearing and wool packing demonstration recently held at Bitter Creek, WY which appeared in the Salt Lake Tribune and which is to our minds a classic, will be read with intense interest by our readers all over this and other countries.
“It is a little after dawn—cool and still and grayish-blue—when your train rolls up to the diminutive Wyoming station of Bitter Creek, and you swing down from the steps of the sleeper.
“The blat of a chilly old ewe echoes down the rails with the snort of the disappearing train, and you walk across the tracks to meet the big automobile that comes whirling along the sage-skirted road. You settle into a comfortable position, the car turns its nose to the south, and heads back along a road that twists its winding way through a broad, shall wash between Wyoming buttes.
“Another twenty minutes and you top a swell in the road and spread at your feet is a sight that brings the sheepmen in your car up alert and keen-eyed.
“On an acre or two of rising ground in the wash stands a spick and span yellow-painted T-shaped building, flanked at its further end by a score of sheep pens, while a half dozen tents, a big new bunkhouse, a kitchen and dining room and an office building lie grouped a short distance away.
Catches Sun’s Rays
“Big skylights in the roof of the T-shaped building catch the first rays of the sun as it swings up from beyond the eastern hills. You drive into the years to the accompaniment of the staccato explosions of a gasoline engine exhaust, and an instant later your ears catch the steady clicking of nearly two score shearing machines.
“And in the rhythmic, stentorian chatter of these twenty wool-clipping blades there’s a note that’s new—a note that’s final—the swan song of the oldest, the most ruinous and costly practice the wool industry of the west has ever known—the shearing of sheep in filthy pens and the indiscriminate packing of good, bad and indifferent wool in such a manner as to permanently injure practically every fleece in the pack, and pulling down the value of the good wool to the level of that which is poorest, even as it comes from the sheep.
“It is just a little difficult to believe that you are at the doorstep of the first Australian-system sheep shearing corral to be built in America!
First Time Here
“It is hard—a little bit—to realize that you are about to spend the day watching the operation of a system of shearing and preparing wool for market that has carried New Zealand and Australia into the fore ranks of the sheep countries of the world, and yet is this month in operation in the United States for absolutely the first time.
“Here, six miles south of Bitter Creek, Wyo. J.E. Cosgriff, president of the Continental National Bank of Salt Lake, and one of the best-informed and most practical wool raisers the West has ever known, and T.W. Boyer cashier of the Continental National Bank; J. St. A Boyer of Rock Springs and J.K. Hartt of Rawlins, Wyo., have erected the first sheep shearing corral in American designed, constructed and operated exactly as are the great, successful Australian shearing sheds, the wool from which commands the highest prices in the biggest wool markets of the world.
Educational Campaign
“No chapter in all the history of the sheep and wool business of the western states of this country has held greater interest, or a more marvelous promise for the future than the education campaign on the proper preparation of wool for market at its source. This has been carried on the past year by Mr. Cosgriff throughout the intermountain West, and which has now culminated in the erection of an Australian style sheep shearing corral wherein are correctly and vividly illustrated the benefits that accrue to sheep and wool men when their wool is properly sheared and properly prepared for the market at its source—the shearing pen!
“It is scarcely necessary to recall the fact that early in 1914 Mr. Cosgriff brought to this country at his own expense a world-famous wool expert, W.T. Ritch, who, during practically all of 1914, traveled throughout the intermountain region in Mr. Cosgriff’s employ, lecturing and illustrating to sheep and wool men the system of shearing and preparing wool for market that has made Australia and New Zealand the foremost wool-producing countries in the world.
Interested in Subject
“Among the many prominent men in the sheep business upon whom Mr. Cosgriff’s educational campaign has made a deep impression was Mr. Boyer, cashier of the Continental National Bank and his brother, J. St. A Boyer, who under the firm name of Boyer Bros. Inc., are large sheep owners in Wyoming.
“J.K. Hartt of Rawlins, Wyo., Mr. Cosgriff’s partner in the sheep business, was also impressed by the possibilities of the Australian system, and at the expiration of Mr. Cosgriff’s contract with Mr. Ritch several months ago the Boyer Bros. and Mr. Hartt offered to share with Mr. Cosgriff the expense of erecting a model Australian shearing shed. It was felt that this would form a fitting climax to the educational work Mr. Cosgriff had carried on personally through Mr. Ritch.
“Much credit is due Mr. Boyer of Salt Lake and his brother, Mr. Boyer of Rock Springs, and Mr. Hartt of Rawlins, Wyo., for joining with Mr. Cosgriff and erecting near Bitter Creek the first Australian system shearing establishment this country has ever known. These men control the Boyer Bros. Inc. sheep company, the Antelope Livestock company, the Pioneer Sheep company and Cow Creek Sheep company, whose 65,000 sheep are being sheared at the model shed.
“I had been led to expect a great deal from the Australian system of shearing wool and preparing it for market, but what I have seen here today so far exceeds my expectations that I find it hard to express the enthusiasm I feel,” declared Chris Juel, a sheep grower of fifteen years’ experience in Wyoming and president of the North Side State Bank of Rock Springs, Wyo., as he stood with hands clasped behind his back, watching every move of the clock-like operations going on around him in the shearing shed.
“Here,’ he continued, ‘in my judgement is the answer we have long sought to the problem of just prices—and better prices—for our wool; here is the answer we have long sought to the question of how to improve the breeding of our sheep; here I am actually seeing with my own eyes shearing and wool-packing conditions that I have thought deeply on for years, but had despaired of ever seeing materialize in this country.’
“And his words come as but the echo of hundreds of similar expressions, from United States government experts, agricultural wool specialists of half a dozen different states, bankers, stockmen, sheepmen, wool growers and wool buyers who during the past three weeks have threaded their way out among Wyoming’s buttes to the Cosgriff and Boyer demonstration Australian shearing shed near Bitter Creek.
“Men who have both written and spoken against the Australian system have come to this shed, watched the operations for a day or two days, and then confessed their former errors in judgment and left to spread the news of the success of this first Australian system shearing shed in America.
The Sounds of Summer
Ashley, a long-term guest at the ranch, commented a few weeks ago about the changes in sounds at the ranch as we launched into summer. Now, full-on mired in the brief but spectacular moment of Wyoming summer, I am acutely aware of the change in season and the cacophony of sounds that season ushers in. After the stillness and silence of a winter which saw snow falling and accumulating day in and day out for months, summer came in with a rapid crescendo of sound beginning with the return of the birds.
Birds
Technically, the birds returned in spring. Spring in Wyoming is often still snow, slosh, cold, and mud, making it feel like a cruel extension of winter. But they came, and this year, the sounds they brought with them were delightful and hopeful. It was a reminder that winter, at some point, does end. The YL is home to hundreds of migratory birds, A few live out the brutal winters, like the American Dipper. The first hints of summer on the horizon are always the sounds of the Sand Hill Cranes. The Cranes migrate through the valley, their distinctive trilling bugle audible across miles.
There is also the raspy chatter of the Magpies. The Magpies do not migrate and tough out their winters here. In the early summer, their chicks start to fledge, and the shrill squawking from their tiny peaks belies their actual size. It is a full-time job to instruct the cats on their job – voles, moles, and rats, yes, birds of any kind, no. Then there is the random scream, “Put that DOWN!”
Then the hummingbirds arrive, and with them, the buzzing and whirring of their tiny wings and constant movement for food. In prior years the YL would be home to hundreds of hummingbirds, creating a backup at the drive-through of the hummingbird feeder trough. The males show off for the females who remain fixated on getting their food while the males’ whirr whirr whirr look at me show continues.
Summer Project Sounds
In winter, silence reigns, with the deep snow muffling most sound. In summer, the noise-canceling headphones come off, and the volume increases. By mid-June, the ranch is in full summer mode with the sounds of shovels digging up the weeds in the flower beds and holes for new plants and shrubs. Saws of all kinds are cutting wood for various projects, splitting, chopping up downed trees, and trees that need to come down before causing more damage and work. With the saws comes the sound of the woodchipper digesting all the brush, small branches, and bark, cutting it into mulch and chips for paths, gardens, and our new venture, Hügelkultur. Running back and forth to scoop up the logs, chips, and wood is the quad with the unmistakable sound of a mechanical workhorse.
The Creek
And amid all the burgeoning mechanical noises of summer, the first sound to herald in the new season is the sound of rushing water from Savery Creek. It starts with the unmistakable sound of bubbling water in early spring as the creek begins to melt. As the days march forward into summer, so does the creek, rising with the daily snowmelt moving from a bubbling brook sound to a raging torrent of water moving past the cliffs and slowly eroding banks depending on the amount and force of the amount of snowmelt. This year was the highest the creek has been since moving here in 2017. The High Savery Reservoir, about 20 miles upriver, overflowed the spillway this year, meaning it, too, was full.
Old Friends and New
By late June, one begins to hear the sounds of motorbikes moving along the Savery North Road onto the Savery Stock Drive as they traverse section one of the Wyoming Backroads Discovery Route launched in 2022. Many of these riders stop at the YL for lodging out of curiosity because they have heard the chatter about the ranch and our chocolate chip cookies on the Facebook group or to leave an extra vehicle. Along with the sound of bikes comes the chatter of people sharing a love of motorcycles, adventure, and new experiences. Some of them stay overnight and enjoy a cool dip in the Savery Creek.
My favorite sound of summer is the sound of voices, friends coming to visit, and help in all the summer projects on deck. The sounds of new guests who find us online or through word of mouth, asking about the ranch’s history and our unique and unconventional histories. There are always the sounds of dogs barking, cats meowing, and the voices of kids running around enjoying nature and the wide-open expanse like we used to when we were young – long before organized play dates and orchestrated events. The sound of kids playing is one of the most heartening sounds of summer.
And then there are the early mornings with only the birds awake when one can walk the path along the river and hear only the sounds of nature and the swish-swish of steps in the long grass when all the extraneous sounds are still deep in sleep. These are the hallowed sounds of summer.
Go Outside and Play
I am from another generation. The generation where we just went outside to play. My mom even locked the door in summer, so we were not running in and out, “I’m not spending money to cool the outside!” could be heard frequently. We would grab our sugar-fueled Kool-Aid and head back to whatever story was playing out at the time.
Nature in the Big City
I grew up in a suburb of Chicago, which differs from the vision of an outdoor mountain hot spot. But we were lucky; we had a vast forest preserve on the other side of our subdivision, Elizabeth Conkey Forest Preserve. In the early 1900s, Chicago was already a fast-growing city, and local leaders had the foresight to preserve land by voting for and establishing a Forest Preserve District in 1914 and acquiring their first public land (500 acres) in 1916. Today the Cook County Forest Preserve covers 70,000 acres across Cook County’s 604,800 acres of land mass in the county. Over 10% of land in Chicago and its suburbs is protected by nature.
When I was a kid (I moved from Chicago when I was only 11), I didn’t understand the importance of the Cook County Forest Preserve Project. I just knew we could run and play for days, unburdened by parents, rules, and expectations. We collected fireflies, tadpoles, and frogs and concocted wild stories that invoked a healthy sense of fear and fantasy into our play. There were no orchestrated, structured play dates. We ran across a fairly busy road with no crosswalk or light and into a field towards the forest and invented, played, and constructed intricate social systems all before the age of 11.
We Need More Nature
Sadly, today, the Nature Conservancy estimates that kids spend less than 4 hours per week outside! That was a “bad” day in the summer for me in the 70s. I don’t think my mom thought about the health benefits of nature in 1974 when we were playing in the woods. I think she just wanted to watch her soap operas in peace. But here’s the deal, nature matters to kids. Maybe we knew it instinctively. However, it only hit home once we had decades of decline in time spent in nature. We didn’t experience the full effect until we had ten years of tablets, phones, television, and electronics under our belts. The “don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone” idea.
“Nature provides many lifelong benefits across physical health, mental health and academic competency. A healthy exposure to Vitamin D promotes bone health and helps minimize issues related to diabetes and heart disease. Even playing with dirt has shown to reduce anxiety and stress levels in children. Introducing different natural environments to children can help them think beyond their immediate surroundings and build well-rounded perspectives. Nature-based learning and education improves a child’s academic performance and critical thinking.”
Taking Nature for Granted
I spent much of my life outdoors as a runner, cyclist, and hiker. I explored, camped, and always knew I’d rather be outside than inside. When I would get stressed, I would go outside. Even years later, living in Las Vegas, a veritable concrete jungle, I sought out the healing trails of Red Rocks and Mount Charleston.
There were few studies, even in the early 2000s, about the effects of nature on stress and anxiety. I hiked because I knew it made me feel better. I never thought about the “why” I just walked in the mountains, smelled the pine, and exhaled the mounting stress and anxiety of my difficult job.
Research on the Benefits of Nature
As we’ve entered an era of nature research, scientists are beginning to quantify the benefits of nature — something I instinctively knew made me feel better. Biologist and journalist Kirsten Weir, in her article, Nurtured by Nature, highlights the importance of getting outdoors.
• Spending time in nature is linked to both cognitive benefits and improvements in mood, mental health, and emotional well-being.
• Feeling connected to nature can produce similar benefits to well-being, regardless of how much time one spends outdoors.
• Both green spaces and blue spaces (aquatic environments) produce well-being benefits. More remote and biodiverse spaces may be particularly helpful, though even urban parks and trees can lead to positive outcomes.
Why the YL?
In 2017, I moved from Rwanda to my husband’s family ranch in Wyoming. It is remote, isolated, and bathed in nature. The YL Ranch sits at the end of the Savery Creek Valley. It abuts BLM land, Big Sandstone, Little Sandstone, and the Medicine Bow National Forest. Every morning when I am here, Shaka and I walk. We walk the .75-mile loop along the Savery Creek on our property, through Water Conservation land, and around BLM back to the ranch. In one section, I feel like I’m walking down a long aisle of a 16th-century European church. The trees rising high on both sides, the long grass coming alongside as I walk the well-worn path breathing in the scents of summer. I’ve come across bears, moose, deer, elk, bobcats, and coyotes on my daily walks. Each time sparking a moment of “awe” and gratitude radiating throughout my body.
The Nature Fix — Experiencing Awe
Two recent books I’ve read by Florence Williams, “Heartbreak” and “The Nature Fix,” both scientifically delve into the healing power of nature and specifically the effects of “awe.”
“Until recently, though, there was surprisingly little scientific investigation of awe, despite the fact that it’s considered one of the core positive emotions along with joy, contentment, compassion, pride, love, and amusement.” Paul Piff, a psychologist at the University of California, Irvine, says in “The Nature Fix,” “A deeply powerful, awe-inspiring experience can change someone’s perspective for a long time, even permanently.”
Piff ran an experiment to see if awe induces generosity. He found that people in the experiments gave away 40% more lottery tickets when they experienced intense feelings of awe versus those who did not. In another experiment, the researchers took saliva samples to measure levels of cytokine IL-6, a marker for inflammation. Lower levels are more advantageous to general well-being. Higher levels are linked to stress, depression, and poor muscle repair. The findings were remarkable. “Experiencing awe was the only one that predicted significantly lower levels of IL-6. Awe causes us to reinforce social connections, which are in turn known to lower inflammation and stress. Awe wants to be shared.”
Today’s World
So, all of this being said, I am rethinking everything in my life at the moment….or at least the purpose of this beautiful property I am blessed to own. The world is a bit of a mess at the moment. Just getting on a plane in the US fills me with anxiety, unease, and apprehension. Is this the plane that must land because of an altercation by a passenger towards the crew? Is this the day when I’m shopping in Walmart in Craig that someone who has a beef with society takes out their anger on innocent shoppers and shoots up the local Walmart?
People are angry, on edge, and, in all reality, hurting and suffering. There is so much unresolved trauma in our society due to our lack of mental health care, general health care, and, in the case of Wyoming, a “Cowboy Up” attitude fueled by guns and stoicism in the face of personal challenges.
Building a New YL Ranch
The YL Ranch is morphing into a place to reconnect with nature for more than five hours a month. This is the recommended amount by Japanese researchers. If being in nature for five hours a month can reduce our blood pressure, stress markers, and anxiety, what can five hours a day do? The persuasive thought in the study of nature is the “three-day effect” that, given three days in nature, our stress hormones diminish, our overall sense of calm and well-being increase, and our creativity sores. We offer our prefrontal cortex a break from the daily onslaught of technology and work responsibilities.
In Florence Williams’s book, The Nature Fix, she says, “”We seem to be giving our prefrontal cortex a break, so our thinking brain is quieting down and given a rest, so that can refresh our creativity and allow for mind-wandering. People’s self-concept seems to change too. It’s just this kind of wonderful gift to have that time and space to think about those things.”
Do we really need to be told this? Yes, I am living proof. I live in nature, yet I have not taken three days in a row off in years. I am chronically tethered to social media for work. What if I miss that one big donor opportunity? Since I cannot be tasked with going on a three-day break, I will develop a life of three-day effect living. And while I do, experiencing “awe” on this morning’s walk, I will do what I do best. I will help others achieve their moments of “awe” through the nature around me at this beautiful ranch.
The Little Free Library — Take One! Share One!
“The very existence of libraries affords the best evidence that we may yet have hope for the future of man.” – T.S. Eliot.
The Boyer YL Ranch proper sits on about 100 acres at the end of the county-maintained road on the banks of the Savery Creek. A portion of the old Main House was built in 1905 with several additions over the years. Throughout the property are various buildings in varying degrees of habitability spanning numerous eras of the Boyer family. One of those buildings was George Boyer’s old garden shed.
The shed sat in front of a portion of George’s old house, the hen house as it was remembered. The trees, grass, and nature reclaimed the hen house over the past two decades with little left of the place. Yet, the garden shed stood solid in waist-high grass until June 2020. That summer, a “derecho,” a straight-line windstorm, tore through the valley, uprooting over 17 trees on the property and taking down hundreds of large branches. One of those branches landed squarely on the garden shed, damaging the roof. That’s when I knew the shed needed to be saved, and it was perfect for a Little Free Library.
When I lived in Las Vegas for a minute back in 2020, my girlfriend and I would walk her dogs around the neighborhood, and her neighbor around the corner had a Little Free Library. It was the first one I saw up close and personal, and I loved the concept. It was simple. I love books. As a kid, I loved to read Clifford the Big Red Dog and my favorite, The Beaver Pond by Alvin Tresselt. Then it was Encyclopedia Brown and Nancy Drew. By the time I hit high school, reading had taken a back seat as sports, music, work, and friends took center stage. By the time I hit my 20s and 30s, business and motivational books filled my shelves.
Then, I moved to Rwanda. When people say they don’t have time to read, it’s because they have a television. There was no television in Rwanda, only books. My nights were spent lying in bed, with no electricity with my headlamp shining onto the page of whatever book I could get my hands on. Books were almost nonexistent in Rwanda. When you don’t have access to books, it’s incredible how much you want a book.
Since 2009 I have read hundreds of books literally. I’ve read to learn about new countries, the cultures I lived within, how to navigate relationships, what makes people tick, what made me tick. Those books over the past 12 years changed me inextricably. As I read, I collected. Libraries didn’t exist in Rwanda when I first arrived. All of us expatriates living in Musanze read and shared what we had. Hauling books in suitcases with space already claimed by our respective employers (and bottles of good wine) proved a test of weighing, reweighing, and reshuffling. The library of books that remained when I departed Rwanda filled an entire eight-shelf bookcase.
I own a Kindle, but it is not my reading modus operandi. I like books, covers, pages, ink on paper, books. I like libraries but prefer to purchase books because I mark dog-ear pages and often break bindings. I’m an owner, not a renter. Consequently, since returning home, I continue to accumulate books and have few to share books with where I live. I started putting books in my Airbnb cabins, and people began to ask if they could take a book they started reading while staying in their cabin. I give away all books. If you read it, it’s yours. Just read.
Hence, the idea for my own garden shed turned Little Free Library was born.
Unbeknownst to me, a scheming group of dear friends, led by my husband, devised a plan to salvage the garden shed. They placed it on a trailer to move around the ranch, all in time for my birthday this past June. When I rolled up on the back of my husband’s motorcycle the afternoon of June 11th, there it was, out of the weeds, on a trailer and ready to be rehabbed.
I spent the rest of the summer tearing off the broken roofing, shoring up the corners, and replacing bats. I put on a new roof (done by my husband because I’m afraid of heights). We also replaced windows, built shelves, and painted the inside in all sorts of crazy colors. In the process, I learned to nail properly, use three different kinds of saws (keeping all my digits intact), and have a meltdown while trying to build an intricate (for me) shelving system. By October, the garden shed became the Little Free Library, Charter #130297.
It is the big box store of Little Free Libraries. Most Little Free Libraries are more like large cabinets, some in funky locations or built out of tree stumps or other unique venues. I have not seen an LFL quite as big as the garden shed LFL, but more books need more space, and there’s more to read.
As I look around the world and interact with my fellow humans, I immediately know who is well-read and who reads only social media. Reading allows one to expand their vocabulary, gain a wide range of knowledge, and think analytically. I read books that challenge my perspective and my biases. I can spot propaganda and spin almost instantly. Whether that’s an intuitive trait or hypersensitivity, who knows. I do know that either way, I have an arsenal of facts, statistics, and the emotional intelligence garnered from hundreds of thousands of pages read on a diversity of subjects. This is what reading gives individuals and society. Harry Truman said, “Not all readers are leaders, but all leaders are readers.”
Take a book, share a book, enjoy a book at the Boyer YL Ranch Little Free Library!
Learning More About Doreen Evans Phipps Boyer
In October 2018, I wrote a story about Doreen Evans Phipps Boyer. Doreen married Jock’s Uncle George, an eccentric, feisty man pickled in gin. George and Wince, Jock’s father, both lived at the Ranch in the last years of their life, and they fought like cats and dogs…and rabid raccoons. The bright spot Jock remembers about George was always Doreen.
After the blog was published, we began to receive emails asking if we knew more about this remarkable woman. We received emails from as far away as New Zealand from a man who is an MG racing car enthusiast. We added a few bits of information but not much about her personal life between her last race and ending up at our Ranch.
In August of this year, we received an email from Graham Phipps, Doreen’s son. A distant relative of his from Australia sent him the blog I wrote in October of the prior year. Graham “googled” us…because isn’t that what you do?
Graham wrote, “I am so happy that the Ranch is still in the family. I have many memories of my stay there with my mother.”
After several emails back and forth, we were finally able to reserve a date for a visit to the Ranch. It had been decades since Graham had been here. Graham and his wife Carol spent a few days with us late in August, and he shared so many beautiful stories about his mother.
One of the questions which always nagged at me was why there was no mention of her divorce. What was her life like after divorce? Marrying into a wealthy American family as a Brit had its pitfalls, and according to Graham, she never entirely fit in with the Phipps family. Still, to me, I envision a larger than life woman, decades ahead of her time, who just refused to follow protocol. I know why I loved her from the first photo of her I saw. She was behind the wheel of her race car. That was who she was….different.
Jock’s cousins Tito and Don also spent time with Graham and Carol, and looking through all the old photo albums brought her to life. What I wouldn’t give for an afternoon with her! I still have so many unanswered questions.
This November, we received an update from Geoff Broadhead in New Zealand. He and Carol had gone to Auckland, New Zealand, to visit the Southward Museum. This museum has Doreen’s former race cars, her MGs.
In September, I received an email from Catriona Erler, a friend of George and Doreen’s. She too had seen the blog and reached out to tell her story of Doreen. She gave me permission to share:
I knew George and Doreen in La Jolla, and stayed once at the Ranch in 1980, I think, as the guest of my mother and stepfather, Joe and Susannah Haber. My mother was a close friend of the Boyers before she met my stepfather. For many years before she married Joe, she would stay in a sheep wagon at the Ranch as George’s and Doreen’s guest.
I remember they told me about rounding up all the cats for the drive from La Jolla to Savery each spring and back again in the fall, putting several together in gunny sacks so they could keep each other company. Apparently, the cats were relatively comfortable and happy with the arrangements.
I also remember Voltaire, the goose George hatched from an egg that had washed out of the nest after the river ran high and flooded the nest. Voltaire was devoted to George, and my mother had photographs of George running along flapping his arms to show Voltaire how to fly. There also was the time a raccoon got into the kitchen were Voltaire stayed at night. The clattering of pots and pans alerted George and Doreen to the crisis, and they got there in time to rescue Voltaire, but not before he got a scratch across the side of his face. The scar remained, giving him a distinctive look and making it impossible to confuse him with any other goose.
As a valued member of their family, George and Doreen brought Voltaire back to La Jolla for the winter, and there George would take him for long walks through the neighborhood and along the beach. One day Voltaire disappeared. George called the police, and they put out an All Points Bulletin to find him. Voltaire was found and brought home. Eventually, they decided he’d be happier living at the duck pond at La Jolla Beach and Tennis Club. The pond was located along the drive into the club, and whenever Voltaire heard their car, he’d run to greet them. I would take friends to visit him too.
I remember many a happy Saturday morning having leisurely brunches on the George’s and Doreen’s patio. There was always lots of laughter and witty conversation.
George called me early in the morning the day Doreen died. I went straight over and spent several hours with him and Doreen’s children, remembering her and sharing our stories.
Doreen was one of the least pretentious people I knew, full of fun, open and friendly, and always ready for a party. Although I know George’s eyes wandered (he propositioned both my mother and me – unsuccessfully), he adored Doreen, and she adored him.
Thanks for the opportunity to revisit my memories of George and Doreen.
Thank you to all the people who have helped bring Doreen to life for me. There are times when you only have to look at a photo to know how special a person was to this world and to the people in it, someone whose legacy remains.
Still would love to sit on the porch for a sundowner with you, Doreen. You are missed.
Meet the Most Famous Boyer — Doreen Evans Phipps Boyer
Learning about family histories as one marrying into an eclectic, intriguing and provocative family often leaves you with more questions than answers. The more I delved into Uncle George’s wife, Doreen, the more I wanted to know, yet was left only asking questions with few answers.
How did she meet George? How long did she live at the Boyer YL Ranch? What was she like? Why did she marry George? That story is for another “Meet the Boyer’s.”
She was my husband’s favorite aunt. He remembers her proper British accent and how she would walk with her cats around the ranch. Jock does the same thing with our two cats, Kongo and Dobby. He said everyone loved her. She had a “way” about her, and he remembers how much she loved the ranch.
Who was she? When you “google” Doreen Evans you find many accounts of her life pre-Boyer YL Ranch days. She was born in the UK in 1916 and came from a family of motor racing enthusiasts. She was racing by the time she was only 17.
A woman race car driver in 1933? Even in today’s world female race car drivers are still an anomaly. Doreen was fierce on the track, once jumping out of her car after it had caught fire while it was moving. Doreen raced LeMans on the MG Team known as the Dancing Daughters. In 1936, she retired after her partner and fiancee, Alan Phipps, crashed their team car on the first lap. For some reason, that sentence makes me want to sit down, have a glass of wine with her and ask her exactly how she felt watching her husband crash their car on her very last day. More questions than answers.
The Phipps were an extremely wealthy family from Denver who later went on to own the Denver Broncos. Through various blogs and stories written about her, I know she had three children. Who are they? I do not know.
Doreen’s adrenalin coursing through her did not evaporate when she retired as she took up flying. To what extent? More questions.
At some point, she divorced Alan Phipps, another gutsy move for a woman married to a wealthy man in the 1950’s. Unconventional, we know. Why did she leave Phipps? Was it a desire to return to a life of adventure?
There are a few photos I have found around the ranch, one most striking is of her sitting in a race car in the mid-1930’s and a soldier in a Nazi SS uniform standing beside the car. It fell out of a notebook she kept which I haven’t begun reading. I already have too many questions.
From the stories I’ve heard from my husband and his brother, their Uncle George was slightly north of cantankerous. He was an alcoholic and had a temper. Doreen and George seem like they are from parallel universes. Was it him? Was it the ranch? Was it the adventure she loved?
She was a stunningly beautiful woman with an adventurous spirit to match. How long was she at the ranch? Sadly, I will never know her as she passed away in California in 1982, when I was a sophomore in high school in Kansas, a universe away.
If anyone knows more information about my “Aunt” Doreen, I would love to know more about her. Pictures of her are integrated into the photographic history of the ranch. One sits on our piano, another on my desk, where she inspires me daily.
Kim Weston Photography Workshop
The last week of June the Boyer YL Ranch was fortunate to host the Kim Weston Photography Workshop. This is the second time for this group to use the YL as their photography backdrop having been here five years ago in 2013.
Kimberly Coats, co-owner of the Boyer YL Ranch, sat down for an interview with Zachary Weston, a fourth generation photographer, to talk about the group’s experience this past June
Tell us a little about Kim Weston Photography? History, Awards, etc.
Weston Photography is a family owned and operated photography business located at Edward Weston’s former home in Carmel Highlands, California. We are a leading provider of fine art nude photography workshops and offer handcrafted silver gelatin prints by Edward and Kim Weston.
How many workshops do you host per year and what are the locations?
We host around 5-6 photography workshops per year. We like to host 3 Wildcat Studio Nude Workshops at our home on Wildcat Hill in Carmel, CA. We try and schedule at least two destination workshops, and the locations of these workshops differ from year to year. A few locations we have gone to in the past include Germany, Spain, and France. This year our destination workshops included the Boyer YL Ranch in Wyoming and the Holz/Weston Workshop in The Catskill Mountains in Upstate New York.
Why did you choose Boyer YL Ranch?
We chose Boyer YL Ranch because it provides an endless amount of inspiration and creativity. The main house, cabins and surrounding grounds are amazing. There is so much history at the ranch, and you feel like you step back in time while you are there. There is so much beauty it is sometimes hard to take it all in!
What was the highlight of this last workshop held in June at the ranch?
The highlight for us was seeing all the amazing work created by our students. The quality of work that came out of this workshop was exceptional.
What if any was the feedback from your clients regarding the ranch workshop?
All of our participants had nothing but good things to say about the workshop at the ranch. From the aspen grove to the grounds at the ranch, they were amazed with all the photographic opportunities. All their needs and expectations were met, and they all thoroughly enjoyed their time.
Courtesy of Kim Weston
Courtesy of Greg Edwards (Boyer YL Gate Arch / Night in Wyoming)
If you are interested in hosting a specialized retreat, please contact us at boyerylranch@gmail.com