The Women Wranglers of Montana's Dude Ranches

Audrey Hall/Lone Mountain Ranch

“You’re going to want to see this.”

Monica Ellis, Lone Mountain Ranch’s head wrangler, points up the hill. A group of 15 wranglers—all but one, women—descend towards us with purpose and poise. Some are trotting on horseback, others swinging their arms to mimic a lasso motion, doubled up on tractors, as they lead more than 20 horses back to the stables. The sight was thrilling; pins and needles rushed up my spine.

It was the final day of Cowgirl Up Week, an annual get-together at Big Sky, Montana’s iconic dude ranch. The celebratory week started on the ranch back in 2017 and takes place at the tail end of the summer season in September. Every year, it draws women from around the world who have an itch for the quintessential American west ranch lifestyle. Our days prior to this one had consisted of daily horseback rides led by the head wranglers, a day trip to Yellowstone National Park, and tickets to their end-of-the-season rodeo. There were opportunities to learn the ways of the wrangler, too—from how to trot if you’re a beginner rider, to how to communicate with your horse during a ride.

The exhilaration I’d felt seeing the wranglers at work, I later realized, was because I’d never witnessed so many women dominating their field at once, particularly one usually associated with cowboys in story books and characters like John Wayne immortalized on screen. “You’d be surprised,” Ellis told me at a denim- and diamond-themed dinner to celebrate the end of the week. “There are more female wranglers running dude ranches in the west than you think.”

Ellis, who has worked as a wrangler for ten years at ranches across the Rocky Mountain West, has seen an increase in women applying for wrangler positions on ranches in Montana, Wyoming, Colorado, and Arizona. At Lone Mountain, where she’s worked since 2021, she says that women often make up over 80% of the applicant pool.

The origin of the dude ranch dates back to the 1880s, when the Rocky Mountains became an increasingly popular tourist attraction for urbanites who wanted to learn the way of the cowboy on a working ranch for a few days. Due to the physical demands of the role and the English settler tradition of family farms, where ranches were passed down to the sons, men were usually prioritized for the wrangling jobs. But women have long been making contributions to ranch and farm life: Mary Fields, the first known African American woman Star Route mail carrier in the U.S., became a critical figure in delivering mail across treacherous terrain via stagecoach, while also managing livestock and farm operations on a mission site.

Over time, the rise of mechanized agriculture made dude ranch life less about physical strength, and further opened the door for women—so much so that in 1934, Levi’s introduced the first line of jeans for women, known as Lady Levi’s, to cater for them. (Beforehand, women were known to borrow their husband or brother’s jeans to work and ride more efficiently.) There have been more recent markers of progress, too: Grand Canyon National Park's mule wranglers had their first all-female team last winter, and according to the latest trend reports from the United States Department of Agriculture, from 2015 to 2019 the women operators on American farms jumped from 14% to 51% of those employed.

“I’ve been doing this since I was 18 years old and have spent nearly every summer on horseback since I was nine,” says Siobhan Flynn, 33, the head (and sometimes sole) wrangler at Montana dude ranch Hidden Hollow Hideaway. “I’ve seen more and more women stepping into this role. It’s inspiring. For many of us, it’s not just a job—it’s a lifestyle and a passion that we’ve been able to turn into a career.”

At Sweet Grass Ranch in Montana’s Crazy Mountains, head wrangler Erin Dringman, who grew up on the ranch, has hired wranglers for eight years. She’s noticed a trend of more women applying for roles—and subsequently, there are now always more women than men on duty.

A wrangler’s job involves both hospitality and labor-intensive farm work. “You’re on your feet from 7 a.m. until 7 p.m., five to seven days a week,” says Ellis. “Depending on the day, you’re in the saddle for anywhere between two and eight hours. When you’re not saddling horses, maintaining stalls, or completing daily chores, you’re tackling projects like fixing fences or overseeing land upkeep.”

Says Flynn: “We're kind of a one-stop shop. I wrangle in the mornings, sometimes in the afternoons, and I'm the hiking guide. Sometimes we're fencing, and sometimes I'm a ranch hand.”

More hospitality tasks include half-day and full-day rides, cattle herding, and overnight packing trips with guests. Almost like a concierge, wranglers help tailor experiences to guests’ needs, whether it’s riding at their own speed, or wanting to see a specific trail at a certain time. “Dude ranching offers a very particular and unique dynamic,” Ellis says. “It’s not something you can replicate at the beach or a hotel. It’s a family atmosphere, just like at any historic dude ranch.”

While Flynn is a self-described “horse girl,” many successful applicants to these dude ranches have no ranching background. “You don’t have to be born into this lifestyle to succeed. I’ve seen so many women come into this industry and thrive,” she says. Ellis has noted that staff are “eager to learn everything—from fixing fences to driving tractors.”

She believes the growing interest in ranch life comes from a desire to “feel more connected with the land and know where their food comes from.” Jobs at ranches offer a way to immerse in this lifestyle, all while earning a living. Flynn adds that the hands-on nature of ranching appeals to those seeking a deeper connection with the outdoors. “It’s physical, it’s demanding, and it’s rewarding in ways you can’t replicate in an office job.”

Plus, responsibilities on each ranch change seasonally. Ellis says that in the winter, the nature of driving teams of horses for Lone Mountain Ranch’s sleigh ride dinners—a bookable experience for guests when it’s too cold or snowy to horseback ride—is just one example. “It's really a special thing that the ranch keeps alive and utilizes as part of their day to day life—and it’s a means of revenue in the winter time.”

Yet despite the rich history of African American cowboys, there is still work to be done when it comes to racial inclusion and diversifying the dude ranch. According to a 2021 poll, 67.9% of all wranglers in the US are white. Comparatively, 22.1% of wranglers are Hispanic or Latino and 4.1% of wranglers are Black or African American. Some progress is taking place, though: Colleges out west, like University of Montana and Utah Valley University, are hosting new rodeo programs to introduce people from diverse backgrounds to the sport.

Looking ahead to the future, women wranglers now have the responsibility to teach their skills to the next generation themselves. “It's about expanding the knowledge of driving and teaching a new generation,” says Ellis. “[Both] men and women.”

When it came to my own wrangling journey at Lone Mountain Ranch, I was surprised by how quickly I gained confidence. In just three days I went from a scared beginner rider to being able to trot uphill at a steady clip. So much so that, on one sunset ride, I felt at ease enough to apply my lipstick on horseback while holding a pocket mirror. “Now that’s what I call liberation,” joked one of my fellow riders.

Originally Appeared on Condé Nast Traveler