by Jill M. Hames

Created on: April 24, 2008   Last Updated: October 31, 2008

My First Wyoming Guest Ranch Job

I arrived at the Wyoming guest ranch on August 1, 2006. It was the middle of the summer season, and I knew that I would be the new guy coming into an established group, but I was excited to be in a new place facing new experiences. The first of those new experiences was the cold, wet August day. Being from the South, I firmly believe that August should be the hottest time of the year. Jackson, Wyoming holds a different opinion.

I met the ranch manager as he picked up the week's guests and followed his van up the narrow dirt road to the ranch 40 miles outside of town. It had stopped raining and the ground was starting to dry, but I did not see much of the scenery on that first drive. All my attention was focused on missing the ruts, keeping the wheel steady over the washboards, and not panicking over the unprotected drop-offs. At last we turned into a half-mile long dirt driveway and arrived at the ranch.

I was shown to the bunkroom, and left alone to unpack my car in the few hours before dinner. I quickly moved in my things, made my bed, and then wondered what to do. I took a walk down to the barn, feeling conspicuous with no trees to hide me. Nobody was around, so I walked back to the bunkhouse and tried to keep busy. I waited until the other girls were walking down to the lodge for dinner, and went with them. The staff had their own table, and everyone was friendly. I was quickly told, "Don't be shy. Get all the food you want; it doesn't last long in this crowd." It was true. Staff ate after the guests, and we joked that we felt like dogs straining on the leashes until released, then gobbling what we could grab. After dinner, I wandered back to the bunkhouse with the rest of the staff. Everyone I met offered me a beer and seemed surprised when I politely declined.

I was hired as a server and housekeeper, and at 6:30 the next morning I showed up for my first shift. The doors to the lodge were locked, and it was cold outside. I tried all the doors, waited a bit, then wandered back to the bunkhouse, hoping to meet someone. I met the girl who was training me, and she tried all the doors, complaining that it was not her job to wake up the cook to open the lodge. By that time the cook showed up and we got to work. There was so much to remember for breakfast set-up, I did not know how I would ever remember it all. Plus, I was starving. I always eat breakfast, but none of the other workers seemed interested. I made it through serving

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