Cattle Drive!!!
Do you remember when you were a kid and you wanted something so badly that you would do almost ANYTHING to get it? A new bike? Pair of roller skates? A pony?
When I was 8 years old, the thing that I wanted with my whole self was not a possession. It was a privilege, an invitation.
Every year on July 1, the ranchers in our area would sort out the healthiest of their cow/calf pairs, throw in a few bulls, and together we would blend our stock into a massive cattle drive that took from sun up to sun down to accomplish. Our destination was federal grazing land far up in the foothills where the cattle would spend the summer. We had to take our time moving the herd because if any of the cows got separated from their babies for too long while wending our way up the valley, both halves of the pair would go back to the last place they nursed, and wait for the other. To make sure we didn't lose any stragglers, we had to stop the whole herd every so often and "mother up", allowing time for the Mamas and babies to have a snack and make sure the other was okay.
This cattle drive was the pinnacle of excitement for the summer. It was a time for all the neighbors to spend the day together, commiserate about cattle prices, shoot the breeze, and it was a time to REPRESENT. Every rancher sent up at least 4 cowboys to help out with their share. Most of these were hired hands or sons. Even at a young age, I saw the sideways glances between the men and knew they were sizing each other up. You just didn't go on the drive to take up space...you had to earn your place.
Oh how I wanted to go. I started bugging my Dad at the age of 6. He would make the long drive to the ranch for a few days around this time and I would beg him to take me along. It was so good to see him after being apart all summer, and I just wanted to be with him all day on horses...what could be more fun? Of course he declined the first couple of years because I was much too young. And I clearly didn't understand the whole concept and rigors yet.
And it WAS a rigorous day. The cowboys got up before the sun to get the cows milked and chores done, then they had to drive their herd to the gathering place, and THEN the drive began...high up into the hills for about 15 miles. There was no whining allowed. And you had to prove yourself beforehand. You had to be tough, follow instruction, no complaining. You had to be WORTHY. Going on the cattle drive was every ranch kids dream.
Days leading up to it were a frenzy. Only the fittest cows could go. First we had to gather all the cows and their babies to our big fields by the barn. Then we ran them up the road and the ones that got to go the mountains would be sorted through one gate, the ones that needed to stay at home were funneled off into another pasture. Once we completed that, we ran all the chosen ones through the chute and made sure their brands were visible, their ears were tagged with special Forest Service tags, and we ran a trail of insecticide down their backs to help battle the vicious flies and mosquitoes up in the hills.
I had pretty much decided that this was my year. I was going to work so hard and do such an outstanding job that my Dad was going to put his hand on my shoulder and say "I've decided that you are going on the drive this year! Good job!!" I thought about this all the time. It was my focus. I knew I could do it!!
My job was the gatekeeper. I remember watching my Dad and Grandpa in awe as they conferred. And sorted. Dad with his index and middle fingers straight out, his other fingers fanned out underneath. He counted. And pointed. I watched his eyes. I knew when he was going to cull a cow and calf and when he was gonna look at me to open the gate wide. Only the hardiest cows and calves were allowed in through my gate. Oh how I wanted to prove myself. I wanted to show him I could do it!! I was tough!! I really was...until a calf that wasn't on the "list" bolted through the gate. Dad had seen something wrong with one of the mother cow's eyes that would need treatment over the summer thereby causing her to stay back from the cattle drive. He saw the calf go through the gate along with the approved pairs. And he knew he didn't want this pair included. He saw the Mama cow turn to follow her baby. I remember it in slow motion. He threw both arms high into the air and hollered "Don't let her through Kris!!" This was my chance to not let him down! There was NO WAY that cow was getting through!! I launched all my 58 pounds at that green Powder River gate and heaved it shut just as the cow barreled her way through. I remember that she casually glanced my way with a look that plainly said "Speed bump!" and charged after her calf, throwing the gate forward with a twang, and consequently sending me flying onto my back into a quagmire of cow poop and mud. I laid there for a second longing for a reason to cry. I wasn't hurt. I was just SO PISSED. I felt like I had failed my Dad. I wanted so badly to prove myself and make him proud. I got up and looked his way. He couldn't hide his disappointment but I knew he understood. He got off his horse and came over and wiped the goo off my backside. "You okay?" He asked. I still didn't trust my voice so I just nodded miserably. "Ya know just because I yell at you doesn't mean I don't love you" he added. "Now let's go cut that pair out, we've got to treat that eye." Business as usual. What a relief!
Later that day, at dinnertime he turned to my Grandpa and cleared his throat. "I figured we could let Krissy ride Dan this year. What do you think?" My world stopped. Grandpa stroked his chin for long hours (felt like it), and looked at me with a wink as he said "You really think she's ready??" My Dad said "Yup, she's ready." And it was settled! Just like that! I was SO EXCITED!! I gave a whoop and ran to them both and hugged them with all my might.
I was too excited to sleep that night. My Dad put me to bed at around 7:00 pm while there was like 3 more hours of sunlight left. But he knew I would need it. I remember sleeping on the floor of his room because I was so scared he would forget me in the morning.
That next day was one of the happiest of my life. Truly. Yes the day was long and dusty. And yes, I did get in the way of a bullfight and my horse didn't like that too much. And yes, there were times where I was so tired, or I was afraid to get off my horse to go the bathroom because he was really tall and I was afraid he would bolt as I got back on. But every time I got into a bind, I looked up and there was my Brother to lend a helping hand, or my Dad checking in on me, telling me how proud he was of me. And I watched, and learned. I watched how my Brother sat so tall on his horse, how he shrewdly predicted where the cows would try to take off and try to lose the herd and he blocked their path. I watched how my Dad, Grandpa, and Brother REPRESENTED. And there wasn't a prouder cowgirl anywhere. I came from THE BEST stock!! :)
Make it a great day!
When I was 8 years old, the thing that I wanted with my whole self was not a possession. It was a privilege, an invitation.
Every year on July 1, the ranchers in our area would sort out the healthiest of their cow/calf pairs, throw in a few bulls, and together we would blend our stock into a massive cattle drive that took from sun up to sun down to accomplish. Our destination was federal grazing land far up in the foothills where the cattle would spend the summer. We had to take our time moving the herd because if any of the cows got separated from their babies for too long while wending our way up the valley, both halves of the pair would go back to the last place they nursed, and wait for the other. To make sure we didn't lose any stragglers, we had to stop the whole herd every so often and "mother up", allowing time for the Mamas and babies to have a snack and make sure the other was okay.
This cattle drive was the pinnacle of excitement for the summer. It was a time for all the neighbors to spend the day together, commiserate about cattle prices, shoot the breeze, and it was a time to REPRESENT. Every rancher sent up at least 4 cowboys to help out with their share. Most of these were hired hands or sons. Even at a young age, I saw the sideways glances between the men and knew they were sizing each other up. You just didn't go on the drive to take up space...you had to earn your place.
Oh how I wanted to go. I started bugging my Dad at the age of 6. He would make the long drive to the ranch for a few days around this time and I would beg him to take me along. It was so good to see him after being apart all summer, and I just wanted to be with him all day on horses...what could be more fun? Of course he declined the first couple of years because I was much too young. And I clearly didn't understand the whole concept and rigors yet.
And it WAS a rigorous day. The cowboys got up before the sun to get the cows milked and chores done, then they had to drive their herd to the gathering place, and THEN the drive began...high up into the hills for about 15 miles. There was no whining allowed. And you had to prove yourself beforehand. You had to be tough, follow instruction, no complaining. You had to be WORTHY. Going on the cattle drive was every ranch kids dream.
Days leading up to it were a frenzy. Only the fittest cows could go. First we had to gather all the cows and their babies to our big fields by the barn. Then we ran them up the road and the ones that got to go the mountains would be sorted through one gate, the ones that needed to stay at home were funneled off into another pasture. Once we completed that, we ran all the chosen ones through the chute and made sure their brands were visible, their ears were tagged with special Forest Service tags, and we ran a trail of insecticide down their backs to help battle the vicious flies and mosquitoes up in the hills.
I had pretty much decided that this was my year. I was going to work so hard and do such an outstanding job that my Dad was going to put his hand on my shoulder and say "I've decided that you are going on the drive this year! Good job!!" I thought about this all the time. It was my focus. I knew I could do it!!
My job was the gatekeeper. I remember watching my Dad and Grandpa in awe as they conferred. And sorted. Dad with his index and middle fingers straight out, his other fingers fanned out underneath. He counted. And pointed. I watched his eyes. I knew when he was going to cull a cow and calf and when he was gonna look at me to open the gate wide. Only the hardiest cows and calves were allowed in through my gate. Oh how I wanted to prove myself. I wanted to show him I could do it!! I was tough!! I really was...until a calf that wasn't on the "list" bolted through the gate. Dad had seen something wrong with one of the mother cow's eyes that would need treatment over the summer thereby causing her to stay back from the cattle drive. He saw the calf go through the gate along with the approved pairs. And he knew he didn't want this pair included. He saw the Mama cow turn to follow her baby. I remember it in slow motion. He threw both arms high into the air and hollered "Don't let her through Kris!!" This was my chance to not let him down! There was NO WAY that cow was getting through!! I launched all my 58 pounds at that green Powder River gate and heaved it shut just as the cow barreled her way through. I remember that she casually glanced my way with a look that plainly said "Speed bump!" and charged after her calf, throwing the gate forward with a twang, and consequently sending me flying onto my back into a quagmire of cow poop and mud. I laid there for a second longing for a reason to cry. I wasn't hurt. I was just SO PISSED. I felt like I had failed my Dad. I wanted so badly to prove myself and make him proud. I got up and looked his way. He couldn't hide his disappointment but I knew he understood. He got off his horse and came over and wiped the goo off my backside. "You okay?" He asked. I still didn't trust my voice so I just nodded miserably. "Ya know just because I yell at you doesn't mean I don't love you" he added. "Now let's go cut that pair out, we've got to treat that eye." Business as usual. What a relief!
Later that day, at dinnertime he turned to my Grandpa and cleared his throat. "I figured we could let Krissy ride Dan this year. What do you think?" My world stopped. Grandpa stroked his chin for long hours (felt like it), and looked at me with a wink as he said "You really think she's ready??" My Dad said "Yup, she's ready." And it was settled! Just like that! I was SO EXCITED!! I gave a whoop and ran to them both and hugged them with all my might.
I was too excited to sleep that night. My Dad put me to bed at around 7:00 pm while there was like 3 more hours of sunlight left. But he knew I would need it. I remember sleeping on the floor of his room because I was so scared he would forget me in the morning.
That next day was one of the happiest of my life. Truly. Yes the day was long and dusty. And yes, I did get in the way of a bullfight and my horse didn't like that too much. And yes, there were times where I was so tired, or I was afraid to get off my horse to go the bathroom because he was really tall and I was afraid he would bolt as I got back on. But every time I got into a bind, I looked up and there was my Brother to lend a helping hand, or my Dad checking in on me, telling me how proud he was of me. And I watched, and learned. I watched how my Brother sat so tall on his horse, how he shrewdly predicted where the cows would try to take off and try to lose the herd and he blocked their path. I watched how my Dad, Grandpa, and Brother REPRESENTED. And there wasn't a prouder cowgirl anywhere. I came from THE BEST stock!! :)
Make it a great day!
This is one of my favorite posts of yours so far! I can just imagine everything so vividly. I love you and I love that you're writing these stories down. - Mikaela
ReplyDelete