From eight months to 80-plus years, the crowd gathered at the Weible Ranch south of Charlo for Saturday's branding represented generations of family and friends.

Cowhands wrangled three calves at a time to the ground, damp from Saturday’s sporadic rain showers. One perched on a calf’s head while the other stretched out its back legs and held on. The youngsters bawled as they were poked with needles, doused with wormer, and finally sizzled with a red-hot branding iron, wielded by Duane Weible.

“I wouldn’t do it this way, but the kids insist,” he said, referring to the tough, agile assortment of young men and women who were wrestling reluctant calves to the ground. Some older hands took turns too, especially when it came to separating cows from their offspring, or delivering vaccines.

An easier solution would be to run the calves through the chute, and eliminate the wrestling, but where’s the fun in that?

Duane spent most of the day heating the branding irons to molten red in a barrel stove, which was in turn fueled by a stack of wood and surrounded by onlookers trying to evade the chill of an unpredictable spring day.

Meanwhile, Duane’s wife, Janette, was in the house, riding herd on grandchildren and preparing the post-branding barbecue of hamburgers, hot dogs, mac and cheese and potato salad.

Duane bought the ranch in the 1980s where his dad, Roy Weible, and wife, Alta, had tended cattle, draft horses and 10 kids. He and Janette raised three children – Brady, Bailey and Hailey – and each was on hand for the branding, along with spouses, friends and neighbors.

In all, Duane estimated around 40 people had come and gone through the day, which began at 10 a.m. and ended around 4 p.m. when the last of about 180 calves was set free and reunited with its mom.

As the crew headed to the house for dinner, Duane’s oldest sister, Shirley, pointed out that the help came cheap. “All it costs is a burger,” she said.

    From eight months to 80-plus years, the crowd gathered at the Weible Ranch south of Charlo for Saturday's branding represented generations of family and friends. (Kristi Niemeyer/Leader)
  

    Cowgirl Myla Gaustad was ready to lend a hand during last Saturday's branding. (Kristi Niemeyer/Leader)
  

    In a ritual as old as the cattle industry, Duane Weible adds his brand to the flank of an unhappy calf. (Kristi Niemeyer/Leader)