Attend a Historic Auction

HORSE AUCTION

Babbitt Ranches Manager Vic Howell is a veteran cowboy and auctioneer whose strong voice, quick wit and horse sense make for smooth selling.

Thirty-two frisky young colts and fillies and four yearlings-sorrels, bays, buckskins and duns await their fate on a bright July day. All are up for bid at the Babbitt Ranches' annual Hashknife Colt Sale. Nearly 300 people have arrived on a Saturday morning to size up the merchandise, and the highest bidders will snag fine horses.

The site of the 2004 sale is the Babbitts' Cataract Ranch about 20 miles south of the Grand Canyon's South Rim in limestone country pocked with bunchgrass and a few dark junipers-land so wide and free you can see the curve of the Earth.

Around 10A.M., a herd of diesel pickup trucks rumbles into Redlands Camp, consisting of a small house, cinder block shed and barn, log corrals and stock tanks. Men in Levi's and white straw cowboy hats talk over the pole fence, women closely peruse the sales pamphlet and kids dash to the soft drink cooler. Eventually, license plates from Kansas, Oklahoma, Texas, New Mexico, Nevada and Missouri fill the lot. One couple has driven all the way from Chattanooga, Tennessee, for the event.

There's a long history behind this sale. It goes back to 1886, when the Babbitt brothers-David, George, Charles, Edward and William-came from Ohio to Arizona and began buying land around Flagstaff. Over time, the Babbitt Ranches' empire came to include the Cataract, CO Bar and Hashknife ranches across northern Arizona, and they began breeding horses to help with the cattle.

Out in the round pen on sale day, Vic Howell, ranches manager and a seasoned Babbitt cowboy, explains that minimum bids start at $800 for the fillies and $1,500 for the colts.

"Well anyway, here we go folks," intones Howell. "Thanks for coming. . . we appreciate your interest . . . and appreciate you get your hand up so we can see it. You buy 'em today on these babies," he adds. Just after 11 o'clock, the gate swings open and the first two horses run in, circling the ring and staying neck and neck with their mothers. Bidding begins fast and furiously for the first filly, a golden palomino. Vic's head swivels around as he rapidly rattles off hundred-dollar increments: "Anybody for $900? A thousand? Twelve hundred,

Horse buyers from across the country study the goods, in the corrals and on paper. Itemized brochures, which also serve as bidding devices, give buyers details.

'Anybody for $900? A thousand? Twelve hundred, thirteen hundred, going once. going twice Sold!

thirteen hundred, going once . . . going twice . . . sold!

The buyer is Mike Pock, who says he has come to the sale “just looking for a little filly.” His other main criterion in choosing this particular horse is “a high percentage of Driftwood” in reference to the famed sire of well-regarded ranch and rodeo stock. “These are workin' horses,” Pock observes. “They wouldn't be on this ranch if they weren't tough.” And another thing“horses gotta have feet” to work in rocky country like his ranch north of Phoenix.

Out on the bleachers sits Ed Raap who arrived the night before from a ranch in Pahrump, Nevada, looking for working geldings. To him, horse selection is based on two things: conformation—“the way the horse looks”—and, similarly, genetics. “Babbitts specialize in Driftwood,” and like many other buyers, Raap was drawn to the sale by that popular pedigree. When he attended two years ago, rain forced them into the barn. Today, a few clouds gather in the blue sky like big bolls of cotton, raising people's hopes. But whirling dust devils compete with the rare cool breeze, and rain remains a mirage.

Meanwhile, using soft-sell tactics, Howell keeps the bidding going at a lively pace. “This Number 6 might be the best one in the sale,” he cajoles. And by the final bid of $3,200 from a Montana buyer, it may well earn that designation. Out comes Number 8: “I bet he'll be able to catch a cow and fast,” Howell promises. Then Number 11: “That is one fancy filly.” And Number 16: “You came to buy him, you bought him.” Everybody's head is turned by Number 31, a beautiful bay filly that is sleek as a seal. She goes to the lucky bidder for $3,050. And so it goes, for more than an hour, as buyers in dark sunglasses maintain cool expressions, nonchalantly leaning against the rail, bidding with a nod of the head or a flick of the hand.

While Babbitt Ranches now raise cattle on more than 700,000 acres, they also breed horses and have been doing so since the out fit's earliest days. At first a few people got together for colt branding, and the Babbitts sold a few fillies to their neighbors. When competi tion arose for some of the colts, they started drawing names. The breeding program continued to grow, and by the early 1990s the colt sale had evolved into a bidding system.

These days, nearly 250 to 300 people show up on the second Saturday in July for a chance to buy these desirable horses. Stopping to talk beside bags of cattle feed cubes inside the barn, retired ranches manager Bill Howell, Vic's dad, recalls that “the sale just kind of soared up and became a big thing.” In the early days, he said, a colt would bring $40. He's careful to share credit with John G. Babbitt (a Babbitt descendant) and Frank Banks, men who had the perspective and knowledge to start the horse-breeding program and keep it going. And as far as Bill is concerned, if you draw this crowd of people, “you know it's working.” For the sale, the 3-month-old colts are brought into pens with their mothers. Each colt bears a small black-and-white number on the hip, along with the historic Hashknife brand. In the 1800s, the Hashknife was one of the biggest land-and-cattle operations in the state, at one time stretching from Flagstaff nearly to New Mexico. The Babbitts acquired the ranch at the turn of the 20th century, and they have kept the brand exclusively for their horses, says ranches president Bill Cordasco.

The fathers of the colts in the sale-Cowboy Ben Driftin, Cow boy Drift, Cowboywood, Frosty Gold Knight, Proudgun and The Double Cowboyare called the “Hashknife Sires.” To Cordasco, there's a “bigger picture” involved beyond selling Some registered quarter horses once a year. What makes the colt sale so special is that it represents Babbitt Ranches, he says. To him, it's about the tradition of a working ranch, the owners, employees and their families, neighbors and the larger community. The day concludes with a barbecue lunch, plates loaded with beef-Babbitts' of course-and beans, coleslaw and watermelon on the side. Buyers line up to make their down payments, and they'll be back next spring to pick up the colts when they're weaned and halter-broke.

At afternoon's end, Steve Vanlandingham, who keeps horses on his ranch just north of Flagstaff, finalizes his purchase of three colts and a yearling. The $2,000 for the yearling will go to a scholarship fund for ranch kids started by cowboy artist Bill Owen. And Vanlandingham is a satisfied customer. “I think I got a bargain,” he says. “They're quality horses.” Rose Houk also wrote the “Get Wild in Flagstaff” story in this issue. Tempe-based Don B. Stevenson grew up on a farm in Iowa with his pony, Dusty.

The colt sale assignment brought back fond memories as he mingled with the animals prior to the auction.