Before we begin, I must clarify when I say lost on a drive that I do not mean an actual drive down the highway. Nor do I mean figuratively. I mean actually lost – but on a horse in a pasture in what cowboy’s call a drive. I just thought it important to clarify. Ok, now we can walk down memory lane.
During our engagement, I had come up to visit my soon to be husband one last time before I moved home with my parents before the wedding. I had to leave fairly early the next morning in order to gather the last of my things in Fort Worth and make the long trek back to Houston. However, he convinced me to join them that morning and assured me that we would be done in time for me to meet my targeted time of departure. Wanting to make use of every minute we had together, I agreed.
The next morning, we got up early, ate breakfast, and waited for daylight. Several of his friends were helping, as we were gathering a pasture and then moving the cattle to another pasture.
As a reference point, I had never worked cattle on a horse. I’ve since then learned that there are a million and two unspoken rules on etiquette and how to properly work cattle. I was hoping there was some book so I could somehow learn said rules before I broke them. Unfortunately, there is not. And so it goes, you learn trial and error. Perhaps one day I’ll write a book for future ranch wives who did not grow up doing this…
Daylight was breaking so we went out to get our horses. Fortunately, my sweet husband to be had already saddled my horse. He handed me my leggings and I went to slip them on. I would like to say that this was my first time to put them on or my last time to make this mistake – but neither is true. I had been previously instructed on the proper way to put them on, but in the scurry of the morning (and feeling like everyone was waiting on me), I got flustered. I went to slip them around and quickly realized something was wrong. As I tried to slide, they didn’t budge. I was somehow tangled up in my leggings, gracious. I looked at my man panicked, begging for help. He gave me that “really?” look and told me I had them on backwards. Well – I had figured that part out. I slid them back to take them off, now really realizing that everyone was waiting on me. I was praying that I was hidden in the barn and they couldn’t see me, but was almost certain that was not the case.
To my embarrassment, the situation got worse. Somehow my spurs had now gotten stuck in the leggings when I was trying to take them off. Now, I was really stuck – and really flustered. I lifted my leg for my fiancé to take off my boots so he could pull them out and I could get my leg out. I tried it again, this time successfully. However, much to my demise, I turned around to find the whole crew mounted and politely waiting for me. The morning was off to a great start, and I was already wondering if I should have passed on this excursion.
We trotted off in line towards the pasture. Once we came to the pasture, we stopped and everyone looked to my future father-in-law for direction. He told me to stay near him and follow the road (which I later realized would have been a much easier job), to which my husband-to-be quickly spoke up and said that no I could come with him. Listening to my command, I trotted off to follow him – unknowingly cutting in front of two other men. I would be made aware of this error later in the day. It is considered rude to cross in front of someone. You should instead go behind them. (Honestly, I thought this “rule” was rather ridiculous at first. However, a few years in, I’ve now come to see the importance of this etiquette. However, how in the world are you supposed to know!) I followed behind my husband-to-be while several other men followed behind me. As we reached certain spots, he would drop a man off. We finally reached the end of the pasture where I was dropped off. He told me to go alongside the fence line. He instructed me to zig-zag alongside the fence line about a 100 or so yards out. I would cover this area while the other men covered their respective areas to ensure that all the cattle were gathered from this pasture. Sounded simple enough. Then he rode off to get to his spot.
I was supposed to stay in line with everyone. The key is that everyone moves at about the same pace. Well it was suddenly thick and brushy, and I could no longer see him (my next man). Confused at what pace to go and recalling that he said trot-like pace, I tried to not move too slow. The whole time, I had the feeling I was way behind. After all, I had spent the whole morning feeling like I was one step behind. I was determined this time that would not be the case. I tried to focus on my zig zags, a little unsure of how big the zig and the zag were supposed to be, and look for cattle. “What if I miss one? How in the world can I be sure I got them all? It’s so thick.” Those were all questions going through my mind as I suddenly felt totally unprepared and inadequate for this job. I wasn’t even sure where we were supposed to end up. Unable to see anyone, I just kept going at my own pace, determined that I was fully capable and did not need to call for help.
Fortunately, Gage later called me to see how I was doing and where I was. I wasn’t exactly sure. He told me to stop once I got to where the fence changed. I agreed but was confused about what that meant until after I hung up. I realized I had already passed that spot – oops. I quickly started backtracking to get to that spot while calling him to let him know my realization. His response of – “O, you are way ahead of everyone. Just wait where you are” made me realize I was no longer behind but now two steps ahead of everyone. Now, I really felt like I messed up.
To my relief, he came to my rescue. He found me and we made our way together. The rest of the morning wasn’t as difficult and I did my best to follow him and stay out of the way. As we went along, I got advice on what I did wrong and what to do instead. It was my first exposure to the unspoken cowboy rules. You know, the things you are just supposed to somehow know. The advice came with well intentions; however, it was not received at all how it was meant. I’m sure this comes as a surprise to any wife reading this.
I’m three years in, I’d be lying if I said I still don’t get just a touch nervous on a drive. It’s difficult to find your next man in brushy pastures and I’ve yet to perfect the art of the cowboy call when hollering to locate your next man. I will just resort to a phone call or a text if unsure. Thank goodness for technology. However, I’m happy to say that I’ve come along way. I can successfully put my leggings on (Can we also point out that up until that time I had only known leggings as the Lululemon variety…), move cattle, and observed enough to know the majority of the unspoken cowboy code (and well so much more….). Dare I even say, I’m a little better about receiving correction. Maybe.
Happy trails, y’all. Hope you got a good laugh!