Showing posts with label cowgirls. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cowgirls. Show all posts

Friday, June 29, 2018

Nyssa Nite Rodeo Part II: All the Pretty Cowgirls and Cowboys



Wednesday June 27 2018

The Nyssa Nite Rodeo's a big fast-paced, slick show, of cowgirls and cowboys, flash and glamour, dust and sparkle, speed and horsemanship, skill and daring, rough and reckless. 

The cowgirls with their long flowing hair and brilliant smiles, the cowboys with their swagger and stern stares (or cracking smiles after a successful 8 second roughstock ride) dazzle the crowd and bring the old Western way of life to the spotlight.

Yep, Garth Brooks knew what he was talking about when he sang about the broncs and the blood, the dust and the mud, this thing they call rodeo.










Wednesday, May 27, 2015

Must Love Cows


Wednesday May 27 2015

It's not a prerequisite that a horse living in the West in Cow Country must love cows, but it helps that they at least aren't scared of them.

It's not a prerequisite that someone riding horses in the West in Cow Country must be a cowgirl, but it helps that you can competently fake it when local ranchers need help moving cows.

We don't dress the part: our horses wear endurance saddles, biothane breast collars and bridles, Easyboot gloves and brushing boots, and we wear helmets. If we wear long leather chaps, we'll probably have tights on underneath them. The ranchers are used to our funny costumes; they tolerate us if we get the job done, and know when to stay out of the way.


We joined about 20 other cowboys and cowgirls on the Owyhee front, and split up to gather and move a hundred head or so of cattle toward their next higher pasture. Dudley can get a little worked up when moving cows - not so much at the cows but at the dozens of different things going on at the same time in all directions, like when a cow shoots out of the herd and a horse takes off galloping after to head her off - but he feigned being a fairly competent cow horse.


After we'd all gathered them up, and corralled them, and the Real Cowboys and Cowgirls went to work sorting, roping and branding, and we were standing out of the way watching and holding our horses, one little cowboy told Regina, "You don't have to wear your helmet."

"That's alright," she said. "I'm not a Real Cowboy."


We do know how to turn and gather cows and keep them moving - not to push to hard or not to let up too much; we know to give bulls - particularly fighting bulls - a wide berth and leave those to the real cowboys and cow horses.

We prefer good footing and good weather: we chose to help on the day that wouldn't be so rugged and rocky and hard, and we chose the day that wouldn't be so long, since afternoon thunderstorms are a regular occurrence right now, and I'm afraid of lightning. (And here's a good reason to be, which just happened this weekend, not all that far from here!: http://www.ktvb.com/story/news/local/2015/05/26/nampa-man-caught-in-memorial-day-storm-gets-struck-with-lightning/27980899/ )

As it was, we almost got overtaken by a thunderstorm as we rode the 5 miles home from the cow corrals, while the cowboys were still at work branding.

We sped home where the footing was good, ducking off the ridge for the last mile, giving us at least a sense of more comfort and safety,

while the blue-black cloud on top of the ridge boomed and crackled. Mufasa spooked a bit at the cracking thunder, but Dudley just trucked along.

see? we really made it home just in time!

I'm not a Real Cowgirl, and Dudley's not a Real Cow Horse, and he doesn't love cows, but we had a Good Cow Day, moving cows in a little corner of God's country, Owyhee County.

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

The Invisible Cowboy



Monday April 5 2010

Just sitting down for a late afternoon fresh cup of Starbucks. Just taking the first delicious sip when...

"You want to come herd some cows with me?"

"Aw, man!" I whined.

I could think up many excuses: I'm sore from the endurance ride. It was cold. I hadn't finished packing for an early morning departure on a road trip to California tomorrow. Didn't have riding clothes on. My coffee!

Connie already had her horse Finneas saddled; she caught Jose for me as I changed clothes. I saddled up, and off we went. A half dozen or so cows were up Pickett Creek canyon on her 40 acres - which merges fencelessly with our 200 above that.

Oreana rancher Bob Thomas has cows on both sides of Pickett Creek, but somewhere they got through a gate or busted through the fence onto our properties. Connie had seen one Big Red Bull in the lot. Bob was gone for a few days, so it was up to us two cowgirls and two horses to get them off the property - or else they'd be eating our grass and leaving us icky souvenirs until Bob got back to drive them out.

Yes, it was up to us two cowgirls and two horses and... Dudley! Dudley had been turned out on the upper 240 with Finneas, and he was waiting for us at the fence. We hadn't ridden a half mile up the canyon when Dudley came galloping up behind us to join the round up. Well, why not? He'd spent some time with a cowboy trainer for a while.

We found the half dozen cows across the creek. And another half dozen on this side, two of them bulls, one of them a Big Red Bull. Oh boy! "If he turns and runs at us, Jose and I are outta here!" "So are Finny and me!" Dudley too, I reckon. We got around behind them and got them moving across the creek, back downstream toward the other herd.


Jose hadn't objected when Connie had pulled him off his hay, nor when I saddled him up (he thought he'd have a couple of weeks off after Saturday's Owyhee Tough Sucker endurance ride), nor when we quickly cantered up the canyon toward the cows, nor when we started moooooving the cows. In fact, he seemed quite interested in the procedure.

Dudley was hanging back with us as we pushed the cows down-canyon, somewhat close to the border fence, along which we were hoping to find a gate - that we were hoping was open... but we weren't sure exactly where the gate was, nor if it was open. Connie guessed the cows broke through one of the gates along this fenceline... but it was only a guess.

We had the cows moving along in a nice single file line... until the terrain got a bit hilly, and we got stuck behind them when the lead bull darted down into the flat along the creek.

We let them go, since we really didn't know where this gate was. Jose and I sort of just kept an eye on them as they went back and crossed the creek, while Connie and Finneas, and Dudley and his Invisible Cowboy rode on along the fence toward where we thought the gate was.

Well... the gate was a lot further on than we thought. Besides, it takes a bit of skill, probably more than we had, to keep cows moving in one direction, then turn them out a gate along a straight fence. It helps if you have a gate in a corner.

A gate in a corner! I knew of one behind us, about a mile up the canyon! Change of plan!

Since the cows were already across the creek again, and now headed up-canyon toward that gate, and on the road, which was not too far from the other parallel fence, I said, "Let's keep moving them that way and use that fence line! There's a gate at the far end of the canyon, in the corner along that fence. You go up ahead to open it, and Jose and I will keep them moving toward you!" It's easier to move cows in the direction they already want to go, than to try to convince them they are wrong.

Connie and Finneas took off around and ahead of and past the herd and disappeared, while Jose and I made for the herd and kept them walking along the road, led by the Big Red Bull.


Dudley and Invisible Cowboy first followed Jose and me, but he watched Finneas galloping up the canyon and out of sight... he decided to run after Finneas instead. He took off at a whinnying gallop! (and scared Connie and Finny when he roared up on them.)

The cows were moving along fine - walking on the road and walking steadily more or less, but Jose was starting to get a little uncomfortable by himself, and no longer having fun. He'd freeze, then try to turn towards home, then leap when I nudged him. But he was still being the best cow horse ever, keeping those cows moving in a group up the canyon.

When Connie and Finneas, and Dudley and Invisible Cowboy finally got back and joined us behind the herd, Jose switched back into working cowhorse mode. The cows thought about heading for the creek to cross it again, but Jose and I cut them off, putting ourselves near the head of the herd, and turning them back up to the road and the fence. Connie and Finneas and Dudley and Invisible Cowboy drove from behind, and, as the herd strung out a bit, and the middle few of them thought again about the creek, Dudley and Invisible Cowboy moved exactly where Dudley needed to be, to turn the cows back in their line, heading the right direction. I SWEAR Dudley knew exactly what he was doing.

Jose seemed to know exactly where to put himself too - I wasn't paying much attention to him - just automatically leaning and legging him and one-handing the reins as I yelled and waved at the cows. And he seemed so interested in the whole procedure, and how much control he had over those cows.


Between the 6 of us, we kept them moving right where we wanted them - closer to that fenceline and straight for that open gate - (we had a feeling Big Red Bull knew these gates and where to go), and pretty soon, Big Red was stepping through the gate off our property, leading his herd of strays out.


Yeehaw!

Connie jumped off and closed the gate after the last of them, and I jumped off and hugged Jose, the Best Cowhorse Ever. Dudley got a big hug too, and they all got Cow Herding Treats.

On the way back, we rode the other fenceline, and found that gate they'd busted through. Connie wired it shut, then the 6 of us headed back home after a successful day on the ranch, hung up our bridles and chaps, and fed the ponies.

The Best Cowhorse Team Ever.