Story by Robert W Dean

The sun was just beginning to make its descent into the evening, the windows were down and a brisk air mixed with the smell of pine and sage was pouring into the cab as we came rolling into this quaint yet vibrant town. There is something different about this place and though I’ve been here many times, I can’t seem to put my finger on it. Maybe that’s why I’m so drawn to it. It is an interesting place, a crossroads of sorts for the wanderers, outsiders, and folks that just like to live at their own pace. It’s true though… this place is magical.

As I started nearing the edge of town I realized I hadn’t eaten all day so I called up Bri and asked for her recommendations and see if she wants to join. She sends me directions to a place I’ve never been to.

A few minutes later, I’m standing outside this lively restaurant and bar called Paloma, just taking in the atmosphere of the town and thinking about the next couple of days that lay ahead of us. Bri and I had a few conversations leading up to our shoot about the tone and scope of this story. We both agreed that it should be a more documentary-style approach. “It’ll feel more authentic and organic to me, how about you just follow me around for a couple of days and see what comes of it?”

The thing about working with people you met through social media is you have no idea how it’s going to play out in person. I felt good about this meeting though because I knew we all had a common thread that ran through us — a love for adventure and a love for this iconic brand — Stetson.

Just then Bri comes walking up strutting cowgirl boots, denim shorts and a shirt that she wears inside out. We exchange our greetings and walk inside where instantly I realize just how small of a community Santa Fe really is, especially if you grew up here as Bri did. Her friend Molly is the bartender and will make you one of the best Mezcal cocktails you’ve ever had.

After chatting with Bri over a couple of drinks and some of the finest tacos around I was even more excited about this shoot. That is the great thing about social media, it allows us to connect and collaborate with a wide range of super creative folks that we may not have discovered otherwise. Artist, Craftsman, Cowgirl, and Photographer Bri Cimino is one of those people. I’ve been a fan of Bri’s work ever since I stumbled across her on social media so this was a real honor.

The next morning I follow Bri and her close friend Jason down a dirt road that led to her house and a dusty outdoor horse arena. Even though a storm is hanging on the horizon Bri and Jason take the top off her patina blue International scout. After a few squirts of starting fluid, she roars to life and Bri looks at me and says “Let’s hope the windshield wipers still work.”

Bri and her dog Falconi

Before we roll out for the day, Bri needs to do her chores.

Bri feeding her horses Thunder and Bandit.

After the morning chores are finished up we crawl into her international scout and head out for the day.

Bri and I have a mutual friend, Scott Corey, who owns the one and only Santa Fe Vintage. He runs a location called The Outpost and the other called the Showroom. I’ve never seen the showroom so Bri decides to make that our first stop of the day.

Next up we decide to go back to Bri’s place for a mid-day coffee. Bri is somewhat of a “Jill of all trades” She appreciates hard work and it is apparent that she puts her heart and soul into whatever it is she commits herself to, whether it be her leatherwork, photography or her horses.

A photograph on her wall catches my eye. It is an old film photo of a horse nibbling and tugging on a woman’s shirt. I ask Bri what the story of the photo is. She tells me “my grandfather captured that moment, it was right before my mother found out she was pregnant with me. I guess the horse knew before anyone did.” These kind of photos are my favorite.

Bri is an easy person to talk to. She keeps an abnormal situation—an interview in which a stranger is asking you personal questions about your profession —as normal and reciprocal as possible. She is kind and polite, and has a wealth of knowledge about the history of Santa Fe:

Born in Taos and raised in Santa Fe. Bri grew up loving the outdoors, animals and art. She works in Santa Fe as a hairstylist during the weekdays, traveling to photograph equestrians on the weekends, learning to make her own horse tack, and somehow still finds time to ride her horses into the desert.” New Mexico is a special place for many people and for me, It is about the space and the light dimension that exists in the high desert air. Where the Rocky Mountains end and kiss the land where the desert begins. Where the earth meets the sky at the horizon without building to obstruct the view.”

One thing is for certain. Bri’s New Mexico roots run deep. She comes from a dying breed that still believes in heritage and has a deep love for the stories that live on through the generations.

We hop back in the scout and head South down the turquoise trail towards Cerrillos.

After a short drive, we land at Mary’s bar. If you’ve never been to Cerrillos and you ever find yourself driving down the historic turquoise trail then you must stop off here. Trust me you won’t regret it.

After a beer and some conversations with a few locals, we head back out to a favorite place a Bri’s – Waldo Canyon.

As the golden sun was setting over the ever-stretching landscape and the day was starting to wind down I felt like I had a newfound appreciation for this part of New Mexico.

Day two we woke up early and headed out to Abiquiu. The entire way we talk history and Georgia O’Keeffe. “This land captivates many and until you see it for yourself, you can only look at paintings or photographs and question a place like this actually exists. One can only hope when others travel to experience it with their own two eyes, they will respect the land and cultures that have been here for hundreds of years.” – Bri Says

Bri on her horse “Scout” ridding through the incredible Abiquiu landscape.

We wrap up day two here at Skybound farm. A good friend of Bri’s place where she often keeps her horses.

At the end of our two-day shoot, I felt like I had formed a new lifelong friend in Bri. Here was a super unique and talented lady that is living life on her terms. I thought to myself “That’s what this is all about right there”. What a great experience. I have a feeling it won’t be the last.

~ Robert W. Dean

This story is meant to be a small glimpse into the life of Navajo shepherds and pay respect to the sacred relationship between the Navajo people and their Navajo-Churro sheep. It’s commonly said that one must be Navajo to truly understand the depth of this sacred bond and what it means among families, clans and on an individual level. For that reason and more, this story was told by the shepherds themselves.

By Heath Herring and Leney Breeden

These words resonate across the Navajo Nation, cutting straight to the core of what it means to be a shepherd. They symbolize the relationship between the Navajo-Churro sheep and the Navajo people. These shepherds, along with their flocks, have all been affected by the drought that has plagued the Southwest in recent years. But despite the hardships, this way of life is filled with harmony, peace, and beauty.

Colby is a young shepherd outside of Sawmill, Arizona in an area called “Che’chiltah” meaning: “Among the Oak Trees.” He has a flock of Navajo-Churro that he raises with the help of his family.

The Navajo-Churro is a rare, endangered breed of sheep commonly thought to be adapted from the Churra, which were carried to North America by the Spaniards over 400 years ago. Because of this adaption, the Navajo-Churro is incredibly acclimated to the desert conditions of the Southwest. It has the ability to thrive in conditions where other breeds would likely perish. It has a unique, two-part fleece, unlike other sheep breeds that only have one. The fibers are long, lustrous, low in lanolin and take natural dyes readily. The result is a strong, beautiful yarn that has been spun and woven into many traditional Navajo weavings for centuries.

“The story is that the holy people took down the clouds for the sheep’s body, willow branches for the legs and crystals for their eyes. It was just a statue until they breathed life into it. Then it was alive. The sheep was quiet, so they put the thunder inside it and gave it a spirit and a voice. The sheep are sacred, that’s what I see when I look at Navajo-Churro. The Land is wild and they match it. They have a unique spirit. You can feel it. They put life back into the earth.“ — Colby Yazzie

Drake Mace is a Shepherd who creates beautiful, traditional weavings and spends every day tending his Churro flock in Chaco Mesa, New Mexico.

“Churros are resilient and flighty. Which is good when they’re on the range because they’re alert and can flee from predators. They’re also excellent mothers. They take care of their lambs even when it’s raining or snowing. A lot of the fine wool breeds will just abandon their lambs or leave them to freeze in those conditions, but Churros won’t do that. They’re good sheep to have.” — Drake Mace

“In Navajo, we say ‘Dibé be’ iiná’ which means ‘sheep is life’. We live off of the sheep. They provide us food, sustenance, wool— everything. A lot of shepherds live by that saying. The sheep are a big part of our history. I’m with my sheep every day. From morning ’til dusk. As Navajo, we talk about Hózhó, meaning harmony amongst everyone and balance between all living things. That’s what my life with my sheep brings me.” — Drake Mace

Kelly Skacy is a shepherd in Northern Arizona. Her flock of Navajo-Churro has been with her family for generations. Kelly came to learn and love this way of life through everything she was taught by her father, Herbert, who still works alongside her to this day.

“The sheep hold us to our land. They are the reason we remain close to it. Because of them, we see every sunrise and we never miss a sunset. It is because of our sheep that we still hold on to our reservation. If we lose them we will lose our land.” — Kelly Skacy

Eliseo Curley is a shepherd, weaver, and educator in Shiprock, New Mexico who’s been raising his own Navajo-Churro for about six years. Every Spring he hikes 20 miles into the Carrizo Mountains, alongside other shepherds and their flocks, to take their Churro to a sheep camp for cooler weather and better grazing during the warmer seasons.

“What I like about this way of living is having the freedom to do what you want. You’re not being controlled by a 9 to 5 job and stuck in the same old routine. With this lifestyle, you don’t always know what you’ll do in a day. You wake up, cook breakfast and then an hour later you’re out harvesting wild tea somewhere. Next, you’re going to a ceremony, weaving, visiting the sheep camp, or maybe even teaching classes the next day. It’s spontaneous, and that’s what I like about it.” — Eliseo Curley

Many shepherds speak of this life being handed down from their grandparents. It’s predominantly instilled by their grandmothers, as Diné (The Navajo people) are historically a matriarchal society.

“My grandparents always had sheep. When I was around 8 years old, I would help take care of them, shearing them when it was time to shear, then following as they herded the sheep. So a lot of this I learned at a young age.” — Eliseo Curley

“My grandmother always said her sheep were her mother and her father because they were passed on from generation to generation. She would tell us ‘they’re your mother. They’re your father. So take care of them like they take care of you.’” — Drake Mace

“I chose Churro sheep because my grandfather passed the herd onto my dad. So I look at it as holding onto what my grandparents had and continuing that legacy. My Dad says, ‘when you have livestock you have to work right beside them.’ I am a strong believer in working for what you have. I’m down here every morning, rain or shine. You have to do what you can, by all means necessary, to help them in whatever conditions you’re in.” — Kelly Skacy

“I chose Churro because I love the versatility of the wool and how it’s variegated throughout my weaving. Red, brown, grey, black and white. I love the natural colors. There’s a lot of designs you can create with just four colors at the most. I used to use a lot of processed yarn until I fell in love with spinning my own wool.” — Drake Mace

These pieces are not only works of art, but handwoven stories of a people and way of life. They communicate strength, intention, and endurance in a way that fully utilizes these multi-faceted sheep that hold so many gifts. These weavings are also a tangible representation of a slower, thoughtful lifestyle – a powerful message to an otherwise fast-paced world.

“Weaving is something I’m really passionate about. It’s an aspect of the sheep life that I love so much, and it ties me to my history.” — Drake Mace

While many shepherds speak of peace and harmony with the land, the sheep and one another, most agree that this can be a hard way of life at times. Mother Nature calls the shots. Ongoing drought, remote locations, limited resources, and grazing conditions can be financially strenuous for shepherds on the reservation.

“It’s hard living on the reservation. We don’t have access to a lot of stores, and all the border towns are 50 plus miles away. We live completely isolated. So living on the Rez can make you a very strong individual. There are rough patches in life but you just gotta stay strong and positive and persevere. Have goals. Stick to your guns. Be yourself. Live your life every day, and be grateful for what you have, instead of moping around about what you don’t have.” —Drake Mace

“I wish more people had an interest in preserving old ways. Those ways got us through so much. They got us through The Long Walk, through the livestock reductions and through hard times in general. Every single day that we go through, the animals get us through it. I think it needs to be stressed that it’s very important.“ — Colby Yazzie

“Despite not always being financially stable, you will always be rich in your life with your livestock and in the things that you know.” — Eliseo Curley

A lot of the hardship on the reservation can be attributed to the drought that hinders plant growth on the rangelands for the livestock to survive on. The lack of plant life forces shepherds to purchase hay, the prices of which have been rising. The hay has to be shipped in from further and further away because it’s unable to grow substantially near the reservation.

“The drought has affected us in many ways. We used to run about three to four hundred head of sheep, but we had to cut back to about 120. We use hay and supply sheep with nutrients during these conditions. I think a lot of people lose their herds because of the drought. They can’t afford hay so when there’s no feed, grazing is all they depend on. It feels good to have some rain around here this Spring.” — Kelly Skacy

There was a small reprieve during the Spring, but there’s no telling how long it will last. Especially with the upcoming heat and summer wind which could cause everything to dry out again.

“My main goal with the Navajo Churro is to help my family and others and help to supply them with resources.” – Colby Yazzie

“My hope is to carry on the traditional knowledge and pass it on to younger people, or even people my age, who are out there wanting to learn. That’s what keeps me going – teaching other people what I know. Which can take me places to talk to others, not just on the reservation but across the country. This way of living doesn’t keep you in one spot. You’re helping people all over the place. That’s what I enjoy.” — Eliseo Curley

“If I won the lottery tomorrow, I would buy a nice spread of land, and just do what I do because it’s what I love. I’m just happy to be amongst sheep. “ — Drake Mace

“This is the way of life that I want to live. I love being a shepherd. You don’t get the same day twice. Doing this and being here makes me happy and there’s nothing else I would rather do. To me, it’s carrying on a legacy. Not everyone sees the value of the wool, to me it’s everything.“ —Kelly Skacy

In addition to this way of life, the Navajo-Churro sheep are also raised and protected by others who wish to see the breed flourish. Navajo, Hispanic and Anglo shepherds and producers alike all work hard, often together, to protect and help perpetuate the growth of this breed and increase awareness about its endangerment, cultural significance, and invaluable qualities as a sustainable breed. The Churro are incredibly resilient, as are the shepherds who raise them, but nature isn’t cutting anyone any slack. There is currently a serious need to continue raising awareness about drought conditions in the Southwest and the impact it’s having on shepherds and all agricultural life throughout the region.

For more information about Navajo-Churro sheep visit: navajolifeway.org and navajosheepproject.org

Special thanks to Kody Dayish

Photography by Maaike Bernstrom

Maria and Andrew Coughlin live in a small seaside town outside of Newport, RI called Tiverton along with their Bernese Mountain Dogs Whiskey (8mo) and Moose (3). Andrew is a wooden boat builder and boat captain; Maria is a photographer and former boat captain. They bought “Seven Girls” in September 2018 up in Elliot, Maine. They were on the lookout for a wooden lobster boat that they could transform into a comfortable cruiser for their family. “We love the lines of lobster boats, the easy handling and the back decks for entertaining.”

“Seven Girls” is a wooden 33-foot, 1960 Ralph Stanley lobster boat, originally built by Ralph for his father and named after his seven sisters, in Southwest Harbor, Maine. In 1999, Ralph Stanley received a National Endowment for the Arts National Heritage Fellowship and now the lines drawings for “Seven Girls” are in the Library of Congress (fun fact!).

Andrew and Maria met while working on boats and over their 5-year marriage they have renovated houses, antique cars, and this vintage lobster boat. “We love a good project and this boat is so special to us because it really gets us back to our roots of being on the water. We wanted a boat that was nice, but not too nice. One that our dogs and friend’s kids couldn’t mess up. We wanted something that was comfortable to cruise over to Cuttyhunk or Nantucket or Marthas Vineyard for a weekend getaway; or just to sit on the mooring and watch the sunset with a cocktail.”

By Sofia Jaramillo

I am swaying back and forth in a hammock on the deck of my family’s ranch in Colombia. The hustle and bustle of the city is long gone. We are a few hours outside of Manizales in the western region of the Andes. I close my eyes to slow down and soak in the sounds of the forest.

As thoughts fade away, I start to hear a symphony of birds. There are at least five distinct calls. This isn’t many, considering Colombia has the highest diversity of bird species in the world. Nonetheless, the melody is magical. Bugs hum in the background providing a steady baseline. Parrots, Baranquillos and Honeycreepers fly among the bamboo and gigantic umbrella-shaped Saman trees. Palm tree leaves flutter in the soft wind, mimicking the pitter patter of rain. As I look to the west, a sea of green lush rolling hills extends as far as the eye can see.

This is one of my favorite places in the whole world. I love it not only for the spectacular scenery but for the family history that resides here. This is the land where my father grew up and the ranch that my great grandparents started. When I visit I always feel a strong presence of family, from the current day and the past. I feel connected to my roots and I am at home at Maracaibo.

My great grandparents, Emigdio Jaramillo Ruiz y Lucía Jaramillo Rivera, purchased the property in 1946. The ranch was already built when they bought the land and now the structure is over 100 years old.

Over the years it has been inspiring to see my Tio Andres improve and modernize the ranch. Hundreds of dairy cows roam the pastures, while pigs grow fat in their stables. Most recently, he planted a beautiful citrus orchard. I admire my uncle’s passion for the land and ranching. It is a pleasure to learn about his work and interesting to see the differences between the ranch in Colombia and those where I grew up in Idaho. My father moved to the states as a young adult to study economics and agriculture. After his academic career, he ended up in the mountain town of Ketchum, Idaho. I was born and raised in Idaho, but I’ve been lucky to visit Colombia many times as an adult.

In the West, I’m used to seeing lots of sagebrush and some pine trees on ranches. But here in Colombia, we ride through bamboo forests with long vines hanging from the trees and if we are walking, we often have to protect our faces as we navigate through towering, sharp grass. The volcanic materials in the ground around Maracaibo make the area extremely fertile.

Fruit and plants grow everywhere. At the entrance to the ranch, my uncle stops his truck and gets out. He walks toward a patch of small green squishy fruits on the ground. They are my Abuela’s favorite fruit, acidic guava (guava acida)! They fall from the tree and we collect them for her to make juice. Acidic guava is very strong and has a similar taste to Sour Patch kids candy. It’s nearly impossible to eat without puckering your face.

My uncle also puts some elegant light green striped plants in the back of the truck. He takes them to use as decoration at Abuela’s home. I can’t help but estimate how expensive a similar plant would be at a gardening store in the United States! Here they are free and grow abundantly.

On the ranch, some of the workers wear traditional Colombian hats from the region. They have black and white rings around them. They are made of straw and their huge, floppy brims extend far past the browline. But, my uncle and cousin are elated upon seeing the straw Stetson hats I bring and they instantly appreciate their Texano (Texan) look. They note how well made they are and how useful they will be at the ranch. The straw material is perfect for the humid, warm weather in this region. My cousin Tomas wears his new Stetson hat with pride and later adds it to his hat collection at home.

Tomas will be the next to take over the ranch. He’s soft-spoken, but a funny character with a big heart. Some of my favorite memories at the ranch have been with him and my other cousins. Whether it is the memories of running around chasing ducks as young ones, racing horses so fast we could barely hold on, or collapsing after big family meals and taking siestas, these moments are meaningful to me. I am so grateful that, although I was born many countries away from them and into a different culture, they have shared this space, history and love with me. We are, after all, family.

Jessica Ilalaole is a born and raised Hawaiian native shaped by the love of nature, art, and exploring. After relocating to a rural mountain setting, Jessica continued to explore art, inevitably falling in love with metalsmithing. Working out of a cottage studio and spending her free time backpacking in the wilderness, Jessica is most inspired by mountains, folk art, mysticism, traveling, natural beauty and the mysteries of old. CobraCult jewelry is owned and operated solely by Jessica with occasional help from friends and loved ones.

Photography by Nicole Morgenthau

“I moved out of a city environment and into a rural mountain setting, which has allowed a deeper connection to the world around me. I’m able to notice the movement of animals and the shifts in the weather through the large windows in my workshop. I’m also able to watch the subtle changes in season.”

“My workshop is located on our rustic property at the base of the Sangre de Cristo mountains. I’ve recently been watching the snow recede from the mountain tops. I believe the seasons have a big impact on my creative process and resulting work. During spring, the animal activity is abundant and I may be more focused on animal shapes and vibrant colored stones. The fall and winter bring a new color scheme and more silence. With the snow insulating the world around my home and workshop, I feel the most creative and tend to dig deeper. In the summer I do a lot of hiking and backpacking. New Mexico has such a rich history and the warm months allow for more exploration. I don’t see how an artist couldn’t be affected by the seasons because it changes how we look inward as well as outward.”

Photographer Heath Herring sets out on yet another road trip to Texas to introduce Patrick Archer, Christopher Jones, and the Texas Poitou Donkeys.

“Poitou. You say it like Pwah-too,” said Patrick as we looked out across a field of giant, dreadlocked, four-legged creatures that looked like some beautiful cross between a donkey and a wooly mammoth. A few gnawed at the grass while others stood still as statues, like some wise, ancient beasts that drifted straight out of the middle ages onto a green Texas pasture.

Fewer than 80 Poitou Donkeys existed in 1980. Tractors came along, and the demand for mules collapsed. The breed’s limited geographic area in France also increased its vulnerability.

Patrick and Chris devote their lives every day to the Poitou herd and other animals, but it’s not for the money. In fact, everything they make from farming goes right back into the farm and the animals they’re working so hard to raise and protect. Technically, their day job is operating a yearly event called the Winter Park Ski-Music festival. They manage the entire operation from Texas and trek out to the Rockies every Spring to put it on. Officing from home makes it possible to manage the festival and the farm together.

Patrick: Chris and I are not farmers by trade but by choice. Before all this, I was a big box retail manager and Chris was a banker. Both careers were stressful so we purchased a small tract of land so we could escape and breathe. We both love the outdoors. It didn’t take long for me to want to populate the farm with livestock.

Patrick: We started out small – literally. This all started with miniature donkeys. And of course ducks, geese, and other barn animals. Now we have a small herd of cattle, fallow deer, goats, assorted barnyard animals, and we raise Poitou Donkeys.

Chris: Operating a farm as a secondary source of income is extremely rewarding, but still full of surprises.  Whether it’s animal health, mechanical breakdowns, or whether you never know what each day brings.  I enjoy being outside, doing whatever needs to be done and improving the overall operation. Self-accomplishment is my fuel, and operating a farm fills my tank, even during more trying periods.  I just wish the yields of farming/ranching were more financially rewarding.

One of Patrick’s go-to hats is the Gus Crushable Outdoor. He stole it from Heath a couple of winters ago on his second visit to the farm.

Patrick: Since moving to the farm full time, we have amassed a collection of hats for just about every situation and season. We definitely have our favorites. I’m always going to reach for the well-worn felt and Chris is definitely a straw hat guy.  We have been collecting vintage cowboy hats for years. There’s something about a well worn/beat up cowboy hat that speaks to me…much like a great pair of broken in boots or leather gloves. From our work on this farm, I can appreciate the blood, sweat, and tears that go into managing land and livestock. When I have one of these old hats on, I try to do it justice.

Patrick: The Poitou donkey is an ancient French breed. They look like wild, prehistoric animals. They’re huge! At least 14–15 hands (56–60″) high at the withers and weigh 750–950 pounds. Long hair is their most striking feature. It hangs in cords from their entire body. Essentially Poitou donkeys are big, shaggy, lovable, social creatures who also happen to be very smart and very affectionate. They’re also extremely gentle and love attention.

To learn more about the Texas Poitou Donkeys visit: https://facebook.com/TexasPoitouDonkeys/a