The Ranchers

When I think of a cowboy, there are no sequins or rhinestones involved.

But there are jeans laden in dirt and mud. And hats with the brims folded and faded from years of sun and grime.  There are hands worn from feeding and fixing and mending. There are strong arms and strong legs. And tired backs and feet.

I remember waking to the sound of the cattle when I was growing up. I didn’t live there, but the low sounds of their bellows first thing in the morning brought comfort to me when I was there. This past weekend I got to wake to those sounds. I took my coffee out to the corrals and bid them good morning, and was greeted with curious stares.

One of my best friends hired me to take family photos as a Christmas gift to her mom. I suggested doing it during branding as I knew the whole family would probably be there. And I could take my son with me….he’s a city boy and I felt he needed a little country in his life. A little dirt. This is a family I have known for almost 20 years. A family who has always welcomed me, comforted me, and fed me as if I was one of them. And I can’t even begin to express my gratitude to them for this past weekend. It was where I needed to be. Where my heart needed to be. With the lowing cows and dirt in my hair and rain on my face. There were several times I had to step away and catch up with my emotions, but… it was where I needed to be.

Branding day is one of the biggest days of the year for a rancher, and the entire surrounding area. The date is set by word of mouth…and they come. With pickups and trailers and horses and kids….to help. And the only payment for a day of back breaking, hand bleeding work, is a good meal at the end, which takes all day to prepare… food preparation is not an easy task.

The cattle are rounded up in the morning from all over kingdom come, driven into the corrals. And then the calves are separated from their mammas. And then comes the music. Both on each side of the fence bawling for the other for the rest of the day.  It’s  loud and chaotic. And just when you think the dust is settling……the irons are hot, and branding begins. The calves are roped in one by one. Vaccinated, branded and castrated all at the same time. There are wrestlers everywhere. There are ropers everywhere. There is one man branding. And let me tell you, it’s a scary thing coming close to getting branded by the hot iron in the face (me… that was me.) The dust and dirt and smoke fill the air. The kids are right in the middle of the chaos… and the older wrestlers are eager to let them help, teach them the right way. Knowing that someday, it will be the little ones to be wrestling the calves.  It’s a true talent to be able to wrestle a calf with a 6 year old under your arm, because the calves, they are strong and will kick you. They aren’t trying to hurt you, but they will, badly at times.  Calves are cute, yes they are…. but wild kick will take the burliest of men down to his knees.

And all the while there is an audience. Cheering and laughing and helping and sending in kids to test their strength. There is hay jumping and horse riding. There is laughter. And banter. And hugs from people you only get to see at that time of year. There are chaps for protection and spurs to get the horses moving and ropes flinging into the sun and then brought down fast and quick.

It’s all a sight to behold.  And I am lucky I got to.  I was lucky to smell the smells, feel the dirt. I am a girl who doesn’t mind it. Needs it actually.

At the end of the day, your face is covered in filth, your clothes are covered in manure, your hands are sore, your muscles are spent…but your are still smiling, because the biggest, most grueling job of the year is done.   You get to stand back with all your neighbors and friends and family, and toast with a cold beer. Watching the dust settle. And the smoke dissipate.  You get to eat the amazing food that’s right there waiting for you (and guys it is amazing believe me) and if you’re lucky you shower before you pass out from exhaustion. That or get stuck in a rainstorm on the way home… and let nature do that job for you, and you laugh hysterically and hug your friend who is also soaked to the bone…. because that’s all part of branding.

To the cooks, the cattlemen and my friends… thank you.