Yee Haw! I've never seen anything like it in Iowa. Ginnie and I and Ginnie's granddaughter, Aria, were invited to the Suzanne and Adam Lange farm (or ranch) north of Burlington to watch them move 200 head of Angus cattle from one pasture to another, riding kill-pen horses (horses that were headed for slaughter). Yep, not by ATV, or on foot (like we used to do it), but by rescue horses, cowboy style, the cattle were pushed or herded to fresh grazing ground.
The old horses loved it as did the riders. The Lange farm is some of the most beautiful country this side of Wyoming—rolling green, lush hills, thick timbers of oak, locust and maple, with not a building in sight. The Langes have nine pastures, numbered one-through-nine, 12 miles of fence, and move the herd every three-to-five days, depending on conditions. They want to keep the herd fat and happy with plenty of fresh grass in front of them at all times. Not only do the Langes raise feeder calves, but also provide custom care for other people's Angus cattle.
Suzanne's dad, Charlie Nealey, and his brothers trained hundreds of horses a year. When Suzanne was six her dad said, “Suzanne, I'll take the buck out of'm, if you'll put the miles on'm.” So Suzanne rode the horses three hours a day. She couldn't feel her rear for a spell, but she became an expert rider.
Then life happened—high school sports, marriage, children—and she drifted away from horses. But four years ago the Langes moved to the farm they have now, and Suzanne thought they had a place for a horse, so she bought one. She told her husband. He was agreeable. “That was easy,” she thought. “Maybe I'll buy another.”
A friend of Suzanne's, Angela Hollingsworth, told her about a mustang that was in a Kill Pen in Kansas. Suzanne went there, but it was sold. However, there was a mare that looked okay, so she brought it home. Her only intention was to ride with her kids. But she found a few more rescue horses and thought, “Maybe we should try them on the cattle.”
One of the geldings, Duke, was a former ranch horse. Suzanne was having a hard time with him. They were butting heads. Suzanne's cousin, Trina Nealey Hulse, a former high school rodeo queen, suggested she call an acquaintance, Trevor Phillips, who was a good horseman. Suzanne messaged Trevor and said, “Hey, I'm move'n cattle. You wanna come out and help? I'll put you on Duke. He's a freight train out of control, so you better hang on.”
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