The Dam That Didn’t Stand a Chance

From the open skies of Wyoming, here’s this month’s short story about ranch life, an insight I learned from my family, and a piece of trivia, along with some special book news.

Story

The HO pasture was our winter range in the early 1980s, a broad sweep of Wyoming land where cattle roamed far and wide. Getting to the eastern reaches to check the herd meant crossing Dirtyman Draw, and that was never easy. The two-track road dropped down into a cut that sometimes ran twenty feet deep and then crossed the drainage channel where Dirtyman spilled into Seminoe Reservoir. When the reservoir was full, the shoreline turned into a soggy mess, too wet to cross.

Dad needed an alternative route. “We’ll build a dam upstream,” he said. “That will give us a crossing and hold back the spring runoff.”

Rod and I were the crew. We rumbled upstream in a Case W14 Articulated Front Loader about half a mile from the reservoir and got to work. We alternated driving the rig, trading shifts as the loader carved out tons of sediment to form a base. The fill dirt went into building up the crest of the dam, which would double as our new road. Then we dug a drain trench for overflow once the reservoir was full.

The work was dusty and stubborn—the powdery sediments refused to pack tight. By the time we finished a couple of days later, we were proud. Rod and I drove the Case over the dam, plenty of room to spare on either side, and headed home to brag to Dad about our skill as heavy equipment operators. He just smiled.

Dirtyman Draw is no small drainage. It funnels runoff from a thousand acres east of the Haystack Mountains and west of the Stone Fence outcrop. That first spring, the ranch suffered one gully-washing storm after another. The fast, deep runoff hit our dam like a horizontal tornado and blew it to smithereens. Water tore through the crest and washed our new roadway downstream in a muddy torrent.

I doubt even concrete could have survived that year. We never tried to dig there again, but every time I pass Dirtyman Draw, I think about that proud little dam—built with sweat and optimism—swept away like it had never been there at all.

Insight

A boy in the country must become familiar with all the variables in Mother Nature if he is going to survive.

Did You Know?

Dust and windblown sediments seldom adhere to one another, and no amount of work will turn them into the kind of firm base a dam requires.

Book News

I’m thrilled to announce that my memoir, A SOMETIMES PARADISE, has been selected as Wyoming’s adult “Great Reads from Great Places” pick for 2025—and will proudly represent the state at the National Book Festival in Washington, DC, in September.

What an honor!

Read the full press release here.

Until next month,

Mark Miller

“Though we were luckier, Rod and I experienced something like Sefarino Gonzales, who also “collided head-on with the unpredictable caprice of Mother Nature.” From A Sometimes Paradise.