Raised on the Cow Crew

Have you ever seen those movies about how a group of men, often rough around the edges and with little parenting experience, but with good hearts, end up caring for a little girl? They may not care for her on a daily basis, but they do become her cheer squad and teach her important things about life. That’s kinda what it’s like growing up as the rancher’s daughter.

We live on a small enough ranch with a big enough family that we are able to take care of the ranch ourselves without having to hire full-time hands. So, as a little girl, I did not experience the stereotypical cowboy movie scenes of the ranch hands saddling my pony, making things for my dolls, or the general putting up with my little girl antics. Unlike Lenore in the Ballad of Utah Carol, my Utah was usually my dad. But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t raised by cowboys.

When I was old enough to keep up with my dad on a horse and mostly keep myself from getting killed while working cows, my dad would take me with him to go day work on other ranches. Sometimes it was just small jobs for friends and sometimes it was for a larger ranch. I learned a lot from being on the cow crew from a young age. The first couple of years I learned mainly how to keep up with the crew and out of danger.  I learned the pecking order of the crew and how to take a joke at my own expense. And while I didn’t talk a lot on the crew, I learned that you could glean some interesting information if you were quiet. (Cowboys are an underrated source of information.) But I also learned the art of a well-timed joke or witty remark. Though respecting elders is important on the cow crew, if you say something smart it’s free game for the rest of the crew regardless of age.

I learned practical things too on the cow crew that contributed to learning the art of being a good hand. I learned when to ride up on my horse and when to give the cows space. I learned not to use the hot shot if the wormer had already been poured on, else you would catch the cow on fire. I learned how to hold a calf down while others ear marked and castrated. I learned how to draw medicine and give shots. When I was big enough to not get trampled, I learned how to bring the cows up in the pens. A lot of things I learned from my dad, but there was always one tip or trick that I learned from someone on the crew. Nothing feels better than when you are struggling with something, usually a stubborn cow, and when you finally get it done the whole crew gives a little cheer.

That’s the thing about being the kid on the crew. Of course, you are going to be picked on a little, but you are also going to be cheered on and encouraged. I remember when I was about 14 and I rode my first colt that I had trained to work. It had been a couple of days since I rode him, and he was feeling fine and fresh on that muggy summer morning. As everyone was getting on their horses, I was loping him down and he started pitching a fit. I am sure he wasn’t bucking as hard as it felt, but as I was concentrating on staying in the saddle, I could hear in the background, “Ride’em Pepper, ride’em!” (You also will get a nickname if you spend any amount of time on a cow crew.)

Some of those cowboys I grew up with I call uncle, some of them are just mister. Most of them never had to help me saddle my horse, though some did on occasion. Most of them probably had to wait while I lined my horse up to the trailer fender to climb on, but I never felt rushed. If there was food to be shared, I was one of the first ones it was offered to. The best tuna fish I ever had (and I hate tuna fish) was straight from the can that someone just happened to have in their truck on a really long day. Not all of the cowboys I grew up with helped me in the same exact ways, but I know that each of them would have swung that red blanket over their head for me, just like Utah Carol.

Thanks, Boys.

The Rancher’s Daughter