The Buckaroo Hall of Fame in Winnemucca, Nevada, resembles the men it celebrates—gritty and quiet, getting the job done without much fanfare. Tucked into a glass-walled room in the Winnemucca Convention Center, this high desert town is the center of the universe for the Great Basin cattle industry. The museum stands as a record of the men who built a way of life most people will never see—and even fewer understand.

Last August, nearly 200 people gathered to recognize five inductees. There was a lot of family, the crews who had worked with and for these men, and a lot of stories. Always the stories.

Five names were added to the record: George Wilkinson of McDermitt, Nevada; Walt Leehmann of Lake County, Oregon; Claude Barkdull of Ellison Ranches’ Spanish Ranch; Charlie Van Norman of Tuscarora; and Bill Kane, longtime buckaroo boss at the Spanish Ranch. In upcoming issues, we will recognize inductees into the Cowboy Halls of Fame from other states as well, but today we recognize these buckaroos.

George E. Wilkinson grew up buckarooing the desert country outside McDermitt, Nevada, and he never really quit.

For nearly 65 years he rode horseback, wearing out three saddles along the way, each one a Mittleider out of Nampa, Idaho. They started out basket-stamped and ended up worn smooth, the leather thinned down from years in the saddle.

Wilkinson took over the Little Meadow Ranch from his father, working country that straddles the Nevada-Oregon line. Every spring meant trailing cattle 50 miles out to summer range near the Owyhee River, then bringing them 30 miles back home again in the fall.

He started riding at four years old. Later, a hand named Chico, hired by his dad, showed him how to start colts—snaffle bit first, then the two-rein, and eventually straight up in the spade bit.

Wilkinson spent seasons riding with outfits like the Lucky Seven and Oregon Canyon wagon crews, horseback every day branding calves, gathering cattle, and sometimes picking up wild horses out of that big, open country. His first saddle, built by N. Porter, is still around, handed down and being used by the next generation.

At Little Meadow, he held onto the old ways longer than most. It was one of the last outfits without a gooseneck trailer. George preferred it that way, doing his work horseback, same as he always had.

He’s 95 now and still going. After stepping back from ranching, he and his wife moved to Nampa, Idaho, but the miles he put on horseback are still written into that country.

Bill Kane was born in Elko, Nevada, in 1942, and raised in the South Fork country near Lee. He rode a horse to school as a kid—rain, snow, or dry—and started colts for area outfits before he was out of high school.

After graduation, he went to work breaking horses for the Marvels at the 25 Ranch near Battle Mountain. Not long after, he hired on at Ellison Ranches’ Spanish Ranch, riding colts. Stanley Ellison saw something in him and offered him the cow boss job. Kane took it—a job he held for the next 27 years.

It was, as he put it, his dream job.

Running a crew in that country meant more than just cattle. Kane taught green hands how to shoe horses, how to find their way in big desert country, and how to get the work done without getting in trouble. “Once they learned what to do, they were good help,” he said. He had a deep respect for the older hands too—the ones who already knew.

The work followed the seasons. Spring meant the wagon out, branding calves and trailing cattle to higher country. Fall was his favorite, gathering and classing cattle, bringing everything back together. The hardest part of the job, he liked to say, was finding a good cook.

Kane showed horses at the Elko County Fair for years. One of his best was Smarty Pants, a horse he’d started for Willis Packer and later bought himself. When Kane rode him in the show pen, he usually won.

He spent most of his life horseback and made a name that still carries across northern Nevada—not because he chased it, but because he did the work day in and day out, and made it hold together for nearly three decades at the Spanish Ranch.

Claude Barkdull was born in 1908 in Farmington, Utah, tied by blood to the Ellison family that built one of the Great Basin’s landmark outfits. His grandmother, Susannah Ellison, pushed him to go north and learn the business at the Spanish Ranch in Independence Valley. He went and stayed.

He started on the hay crew. By the time he came back for good, with his wife Frances “Frankie” Hamblin, he was all in. They raised three kids—Kieth, Kirk, and Donna—while building a life at the Spanish Ranch, where he would spend the next 35 years.

He worked his way up to buckaroo boss, running cattle across the ranch and the big desert country tied to it. He wasn’t a man who hovered. If you did your job, he left you alone. If you didn’t, you got one more chance—and that was it.

But Barkdull wasn’t all business. After brandings, he’d wrestle the buckaroos. He played baseball against the CCC crew out of Tuscarora. And when Sunday rolled around, he went roping.

At Jack Creek Ranch, owned by Bill Drown, the jackpots drew a crowd through the summer and fall. Barkdull and his partner, Nelo Mori, were hard to beat—Claude on his buckskins, Buck and Buttons, steady and sharp in the box.

Mori never forgot it. “When you read books about cowboys,” he said, “he was one of the greatest who ever lived. When you talk about cowboy heroes, remember the name Claude Barkdull.”

Walt H. Leehmann came out of deep Oregon ranch country. His family settled in Lake County in 1875, when his grandfather, John Henry Leehmann, immigrated from Germany and married into the Bishop family, owners of the 7B and Anchor Heart Ranches near Lakeview.

Walt grew up there, breaking horses for neighboring outfits and learning the work early. After graduating high school in 1937, he went on to Oregon State University, earning a degree in animal husbandry in 1941, then came straight back to the desert country he loved.

When war broke out, he enlisted in the U.S. Army Cavalry and was stationed at Fort Riley, Kansas. He shod horses there for extra money, using the same skills he’d learned back home. He rose to the rank of captain, then deployed to Europe, where he landed at Omaha Beach on D-Day.

After the war, his plans shifted. He had once thought about becoming a veterinarian, but instead he came back to the work he knew—raising cattle and feeding people.

In 1947, he married Virginia Jean Switzer, a nurse who had also served during the war. Together they built a life at the 7B Ranch, running Angus cattle and wintering and calving at the Alkali Lake Ranch in northern Lake County. They raised five children, grounding them in work, horses, and responsibility through 4-H, FFA, and ranch life.

Leehmann ran nearly 2,000 head of cattle across that wide, dry country. He became known for his horsemanship, his cattle sense, and the way he carried himself in the community—steady, capable, and willing to pass along what he knew.

In late 1940, Charlie Van Norman of northern Nevada was among the first men out of Elko to pass a physical and be drafted into World War II. He was 22 years old, with little more than a year of high school and some cowboy experience behind him.

He rose quickly through the ranks, becoming a first sergeant, then going on to officer training in Texas. He served with the 70th Infantry “Trailblazer” Division and later as a captain in the 370th Medical Battalion under General George Patton.

He saw hard country and harder conditions. During the winter of 1944–45, one of the coldest on record in Europe, his unit was in combat almost daily. The Trailblazers helped liberate 38 towns. At one point, Van Norman swam the Rhine River under fire. As he reached the far bank, he was struck in the head by shrapnel.

He stayed in it until the end. The war ended on May 8, 1945, and he came home with a Bronze Star.

Back in Elko County, he and his wife Della bought the Henry Schmidt homestead on Smith Creek in Independence Valley. From there, they built what would become Van Norman Ranches Inc., working alongside their sons, Robin and Bill, and their families.

Van Norman focused on making the land and cattle better. He worked closely with the Bureau of Land Management and the U.S. Forest Service, helping develop voluntary grazing plans that fit both the country and the operation. He served on advisory boards and earned a reputation as one of the most respected grazing managers in Elko County.

He didn’t make much noise about it. Soft-spoken, steady, and capable, he led the same way he always had—whether in uniform or on horseback: by doing the work and expecting it to be done right.