Road Stories

I love saddling up before daybreak and long-trotting into large pastures in which I’ve never been. I never get tired of the cool morning air and warm glow on the eastern horizon. At Bill Smith’s colt branding in July, 33 riders evidently felt the same way. They didn’t mind rolling out of bed at 5:30, or sooner, to saddle up and gather Smith’s broodmare band in West Texas. It certainly doesn’t require 33 cowboys to round up 49 mares and their foals, but a mob of saddle-bound “helpers” filed in behind Smith anyway. They trotted over red dirt and mesquite brush to the north, and in less than two hours they were back, thoroughly surrounding those mare-colt pairs.

I hauled my horse to the event and trotted along, but I had to double-back early in order to set up for photos. Later in the afternoon, after the foals had been branded, most of the mob helped herd the horses back to their pasture. Even with the temperature above 100 degrees, they were glad to help. I followed along, this time setting aside my camera and simply enjoying another ride on my young bay mare.

I kept thinking, “What will the security personnel think,” when, as they inspect my luggage, discover those Wranglers with a mysterious green residue caked to the back pockets. I’m sure they’ll have an idea of what it is when that unmistakeable aroma breaks out of my bag and assaults their nostrils.

I felt kinda bad about it, but there was not time to wash my jeans before my flight from Montana back to Texas. So I crammed my favorite jeans in a trash bag, along with several other soiled items, and zipped up my suitcase.

It all started in the branding pen. I was on Dave Miller’s ranch to take photos and record video. I ended up flanking my fair share of calves. John Welch pointed at a juicy pile of cow dung at our feet and joked, “Wanna just go ahead and sit in that and get it over with?” When you’re rolling around on the ground with frightened calves, poop gets smeared everywhere. That’s just the way it is. I still wouldn’t have figured I’d sit smack in the middle of the largest, stickiest piles in the entire pen while holding one calf’s hind leg.

Rain delayed our progress in the branding pen, so I left the ranch late. My flight was early the next morning, so I only had time to clean off my boots and get a few hours of sleep. I doubt that airport security appreciated the souvenir I packed.