A Woman of Authenticity and Action

Have you ever wanted to be a cowgirl? I mean a “real” cowgirl.

Do you care passionately about the land?  I mean care with a deep, driving passion?

Then do I have a story for you! 

She walked into my office a week ago. There was an air of electricity all around her. A beautiful woman, no bigger than a minute, but she just exuded gentle power.  Her posture was straight, her stride purposeful. She was dressed in a typical cowgirl outfit — jeans, belt buckle, boots, and a lovely hat ... and her steely blue eyes.  She really caught my attention, and I was drawn to her. That was before I read her book. Let me introduce you to a dedicated, hardworking, visionary, with a gentle spirit by the name of Heidi Redd. Her book is an autobiography, an adventure story, a story of deep love, aptly named “A Cowgirl’s Conservation Journey.” 

Heidi was born curious, adventurous, and a risk-taker. She was the youngest in a close family with two brothers. She was always a “tomboy” doing the same things as her brothers and was lovingly supported by her parents. She was particularly close to her dad. She rappelled from mountains and was a scuba diver in her early years. After graduating from Utah State University, with a degree in education, Heidi, thirsting for new adventure, backpacked through Scandinavia to Africa. 

Upon returning to Salt Lake City late in the summer, Heidi rekindled a friendship with Robert Redd, whom she had met while at college. His sister was in Heidi’s sorority. Robert was part of the family that owned the Historic Indian Creek Cattle Company and Dugout Ranch, that was established in 1889. It was a large cattle operation. Robert invited Heidi to visit the ranch for the fall gathering. She had been teaching, but the school break gave her a chance to accept the invitation. (A fall gathering of cattle, also known as a fall roundup, is the process by which ranchers gather their scattered cattle from remote pastures, typically before winter sets in. The purpose of a fall roundup includes sorting cattle for shipping to market (especially steers), preparing calves for weaning, and moving herds from summer to winter grazing areas).  

Heidi drove her little red Triumph out to the ranch, not as a guest, but as a real cowhand. She rode many miles with the other cowhands through the late fall heat and dust. This experience, although taxing, helped Heidi realize that she belonged at the Ranch and not in the classroom. Robert proposed to her, and she accepted. She says, “Looking back, I can see a clear third party. There was never a question of where we would live. We both wanted the Dugout.” (The Dugout Ranch in Utah encompasses approximately 5,200 to 5,507 private acres and includes an additional 350,000 acres of adjacent federal grazing allotments, making it the largest private inholding within the Bears Ears National Monument).

The adventures began and never really ended as she and Robert navigated through challenges, seasons, growth, loss, and love. They had two sons, Matt and Adam, both of whom worked with their parents and other cowhands at the Dugout. Miles and miles of rough country, herds of cattle, through brutal heat, dust, and freezing cold — the ranch thrived. 

“While the ride to reach the cows was easygoing, the gathering work that awaited us was demanding. We agreed on a location to meet, and then we spread out to ride our assigned areas. We worked alone, each of us collecting cattle as we found them and doggedly pushing them toward our designated gathering point. Other times, the cows had different ideas. You’ve likely seen herding look romantic and epic in the movies. Well, let me tell you the reality was often exasperating and downright ugly. The cattle frequently hid in the brush, bolted from us, or even dove down to the bottom of steep arroyos. I learned I had to constantly read the mood of the animals and pinpoint the lead cow in a bunch. Most important, I had to remain composed and patient. Whatever the cows did—and they frequently did a lot—it was all in a day’s work for us.” All the while, Heidi was falling more and more in love with the place, the landscape, finding it a very spiritual experience. 

The work was a labor of love, sometimes it was dangerous and always exhausting, but they still frequently stopped to admire the amazing landscapes they were working in. Heidi recalls: “Suddenly, an ear-piercing bellow erupted behind me. I spun around, locking eyes with an enraged cow, easily over 1,000 pounds, who was charging at me at full speed. Dust clouds billowed around her furious hooves and her gaping nostrils flared like steam vents. I started to bolt, but my boot sank in the deep sand of the dry stream bed. I felt like I was running in a dream. As I flailed and strained to look back and the she-devil, likely hollering some choice curse words, I caught my toe on a rock and down I went. My heart stopped, and I closed my eyes, bracing for the blow. The cow made a disgusted headshake, passed me and ran off.”

Ranch work is nowhere near as romantic as we might imagine. Keeping herds safe, breeding, inoculating, moving cattle in all weather, protecting them from predators, retaining good help, purchasing supplies, keeping records, weighing and selling part of the herd while securing new stock. There were always concerns about finances, protecting the land, delicate ecosystems, and much more. It is not a glamorous life, but some, like Heidi, have it in their blood and bones. Her deep love of the land and her vivid descriptions filled me with awe and joy. Heidi Redd was and continues to be a living, breathing, integral part of her beloved landscape. 

It was a family affair, and Heidi talks about her boys that she loves with her whole heart and soul: “From birth, my sons were different. As they grew, their personalities became even more distinct, like adjacent but divergent tree limbs, each one unique and special. My older son, Matt, grew into a confident man, reflective and energetic. His brother Adam, younger by four years, is outgoing, with a deep love for ranching and animals.” As both sons grew, married and had their own families, they all stayed involved in the Ranch. 

This free-spirited and cherished way of life almost ended for Heidi in the wake of her divorce from Robert Redd, her husband of 23 years. Robert still held a fifty percent share, and he wanted to sell. Heidi Lamented: “Running the Dugout was all-consuming. The years slipped by in a blur of seasons, cowboy adventures and cattle on the move. Focusing on keeping the operation afloat and paying off my debt, I was not thinking about Robert, or the unfinished financial business between us. His call late one afternoon in 1994 pierced my world. He had a major announcement—he wanted to sell his portion of the Dugout…I remember staring numbly at the uneven floorboards as I listened to his words, struggling to focus. I could not begrudge him. But the magnitude and impact of his decision was just dawning on me.” 

Heidi wanted to hold the land and protect it, not out of greed or personal gain, but out of deep love and respect. She was heartbroken. Weeks passed, and real estate agents dropped by and shared their glitzy visions of golf courses, condos, and high-rise five-star hotels. This broke Heidi’s heart. She knew she must preserve this precious and unique landscape. Her steely resolve kicked in. She knew she must take action to preserve this land she loved so much. 

It was an arduous journey that required unlimited amounts of time and patience, but Heidi achieved her goal. Many days of grueling negotiations between The Nature Conservancy (TNC), Heidi and Robert, Matt and his family, and Adam and his family, at last produced a solution. 

This solution saved the land and enhanced the operations. The herds flourished and because of agreements and support from many agencies and people, the Ranch also took on new roles. The Nature Conservancy purchased the land and was the primary supporter. The Dugout Ranch became the base when the Canyonlands Research Center (CRC) officially launched, together with the U.S. Geological Service, the USDA Forest Service, the Bureau of Land Management, the National Park Service, Utah State University, and the Division of Wildlife Resources. 

“When I explain it to people, I put it this way: The CRC is a unique outdoor laboratory. Top scientists from around the world come here to study climate change, biological soil crusts, rangeland management, drylands vegetation ecology, and more.” 

“The launch of the CRC marked another major turning point in my relationship with TNC. I thrived on the new energy emerging at the Dugout, as it became a hub for innovation and problem solving. With support from the Cummings Family and the Alternative Vision Fund, TNC converted a portion of the Dugout barn into a lab and classroom space and built an open-air pavilion as well as a small tent cabin camp for visiting scientists.”

Heidi retired from running the cattle operation in 2015. Consequently, her son Matt and his wife Kristen took over more of the responsibilities. Heidi is still involved in other ways and relishes her role as ambassador, along with Dr. Nicole Barger, the CRC’S first research director…” I especially enjoy visiting with the young graduate students from places like Ohio, Colorado, and New Mexico--and even Peru. Today, thanks to the vision of Nicole and Kristen, the CRC hosts the NATURE program (Native American Tribes Upholding Restoration and Education), which welcomes Indigenous students, hailing from tribes throughout the West, for a learning exchange program each summer.”

Heidi is a legend in her own time, a member of the Cowgirl Hall of Fame, and a true inspiration who never doubted her calling. “…Crawling into bed, I gazed out my open window at the face of the Sundial, ghostly and solemn in the moonlight…All these years, I’d never questioned my calling. My heart and soul had been fulfilled by this land and by my work with the cattle. Now, to my surprise, I had found a new purpose…I think what it comes down to for me is fragility. There’s nothing more fragile than the desert. A single footstep crunching through the biocrust can take hundreds of years to heal. A spiritual artifact damaged or stolen is lost forever. Land consumed by too many humans demands wild no more. As an old cowgirl touching the wall of my winter years, I’m fragile too! I am aware my presence here is fleeting-a flicker in the march of time. But I have a voice, and I have raised it as a passing steward to this land, and I hope in service to the planet.”

Heidi Redd could have been an extremely wealthy woman had she agreed to sell the property, but Heidi’s priorities were not to become rich. Her complete love and devotion rested in the land and keeping it safe. She describes it with such love, and her actions came from that love and resulted in even more beauty. She is a woman of authenticity and passion.

I have used many of Heidi’s quotes with her permission because they illustrate the truth of her life, and no one could say it as well as she has. There are many more rich stories in her book, which  deeply touched me, inspired, and moved me. I cried, I laughed, and I held my breath reading some of her adventures. I have the deepest respect and admiration for this woman. I urge you to read her book. It is a gem.

The Mancos Library has a copy Heidi donated. If you are outside the area, request your library to get a copy. Reading it and understanding what is threatening Indian Creek will help us to become part of the solution and not the problem.

“Heidi’s deep connection to these landscapes came alive through her stories. Her words made me laugh, weep and appreciate that very few people possess the skill, courage and tenacity needed to be a cowgirl or cowboy,” Sarah Jewell, former Secretary of the Interior, wrote in a foreword to “A Cowgirl’s Conservation Journey: Stories from the Dugout Ranch.”

“What I want is for every person to find their own Dugout—their own touchstone. Wherever you live, find a natural place that hasn’t been destroyed. It might be an open space in your city block, or a creek behind your house, or maybe it’s a natural wonder you only see on vacation. Let yourself seek an emotional connection to those lands and waters and be passionate enough to defend their existence.”

This clip is a couple of years old, and unfortunately you can’t hear the interviewers’ questions, it gives you a good taste of who Heidi is and the severe issues impacting Indian Creek.