THE ALARM CHIMES AT 6 a.m. I hit snooze for half an hour before I’m finally roused from my cot by the sound of hooves. The metal roof of the classroom, my makeshift bedroom, amplifies the soft rain. Looking out the window, I see men in cowboy hats and slickers rounding up horses and mules that grazed all night in a nearby pasture. All the stock needs to be in the corral by 7:30 a.m.

The six cowboys are from different locales, including Pennsylvania, Missouri, Minnesota, Texas, and Georgia, and one from New Zealand. They are all here, just west of Philipsburg, Montana, standing in the rain, covered in mud and a bit of manure, to become hunting guides. Today, they will learn how to attach an elk carcass to a mule; tomorrow’s lesson is basic veterinary care for their stock. Nearly every day for six weeks they will ride horses, even if only for a mile or two.

Cody Hensen (middle, left), of Royal Tine Guide School in Western Montana, prepares future guides for a career spent outside.

On my way to the cook tent, the rain comes in waves. Inside, LeRee Hensen is busy setting out bacon, eggs over easy, and caramel rolls. Cowboy coffee percolates on the wood stove. Camp cook, guide, and proud owner of a dozen black and tan hounds, LeRee is one half of Royal Tine Outfitting and Guide School. The other half is her husband Cody Hensen, who takes on the outfitter, guide, and lead instructor roles.

In the early 1960s, Cody’s grandfather bought land in the hills adjacent to what is now the Anaconda-Pintler Wilderness in Western Montana. Cody’s father worked as the cow boss in charge of the stock on the Montana State Prison ranch in Deer Lodge. As a kid, Cody wasn’t much into cows, but he loved horses, the woods, and especially the chunk of ground that his grandfather owned, where he and LeRee now run their outfitting school.

Cody graduated from the University of Montana with a business degree, and opened Royal Tine in 1994. At the time, he was still working as a packer and guide for more than a dozen other outfits in order to find new ways to improve his own business. It was in Missoula where he met LeRee, who was there learning small engine repair and welding. “I was going to work on the Alaska pipeline,” she says, “but one thing led to another.” They were married in 1996.

After breakfast, the students each grab a mule from the corral and tie them to the hitch outside the classroom where I spent the night. Everyone takes a seat inside as Cody opens a binder. On a dry erase board he goes over the differences between decker and sawbuck saddles, and how to tie diamond hitches to each.

For the fall hunting season, guides make an average of $100 to $300 per day, plus a 10 to 15 percent tip. It’s hard work and long hours, but the students agree that you really can’t beat the views from the office.

Married since 1996, Cody and LeRee Hensen have been working together as owners of Royal Tine Outfitters and Guide School ever since. Photo by PJ Del Homme

A camp full of testosterone-laden young men could make an intriguing setting for a documentary. In fact, producers from a reality show once approached the Hensens about

Guide student, Austin Wethington, checks his GPS to find the location of cow elk spotted earlier. Photo by Allen Morris Jones

making one. They declined. “They wanted to create a bunch of drama, and we have no interest in that,” says LeRee. “It [would have] made the school look like a big joke.”

There are two downsides to the guide school business that Cody and LeRee adamantly agree on. “I’d rather stick an ice pick in my eye than pick new stock,” LeRee says. For both the school and their own outfitting and trail-riding business, they need incredibly patient and well-trained horses and mules to deal with those who have little or no livestock experience. “Everybody and their dog has a crazy horse in their backyard that they want to sell you,” says LeRee.

The other downside is the shopping. Every couple of weeks the couple will drive to Missoula and spend around $2,000 on food. “By the time we get to Drummond [30 minutes from camp], we’re already in a foul mood,” LeRee says.

At dinner that night, everyone washes up outside and takes off their cowboy hats. On the menu is elk meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and salad with bacon vinaigrette, and everything is cooked from scratch.

An experienced camp cook, LeRee also teaches a two-week camp cooking course and a four-day Dutch-oven course. Many of her students are older men who no longer hunt but want to be in on the camp experience. Being the cook is a great way to still get to hear stories around the campfire, she explains. But it’s not only for the older set; Wethington plans to come next year for the cooking school as well.

When it’s time for me to leave, the sun comes out for just a spell. The students still have another five weeks of sleeping in wall tents and working outside, rain or shine. In my rearview mirror, I watch smoke rise from the wood stoves, flattening into the damp air. I feel a pang of envy knowing these guys will spend their summer and fall seasons fighting mosquitoes, horseflies, and stubborn stock. They will guide not-so-horse-savvy visitors from all over the world into Montana’s most beautiful places and love (nearly) every minute of it.