Got a Question? Ask a Cowboy Poet!
September 2023
Ranching is tough work. It can be a relentless, all-consuming grind. But sometimes all that grinding adds a polish to life. Where does the grind stop and the shine begin? That’s the gist of this month’s line-blurring question from Over-Worked. Whether innovations in tech, innovations in wit, or the simple pleasures of sociality, this month the poets pinpoint those special somethings that bring levity to the drudgery, and show how they “balance” work and life when the two are often indistinguishable.
"Work-Life Balance" is a term that is thrown around a lot. For many people in agriculture the line between work and life is blurry if not invisible. Describe something special you’ve experienced that helped make a tough task more fun.
-Over-Worked
Yvonne Hollenbeck:
I've always enjoyed working outside alongside my husband, whether it be in the hay field, calving pen, or feeding cattle in the wintertime, although this can sometimes test the marriage, especially when sorting cattle or pulling a pickup or tractor that won't start. But all in all, the greatest "something special" that has made a tough task more enjoyable is the advancement in equipment. We can now do so much more in much less time than in years past and actually enjoy comforts (especially in tractors) almost as good as in our living room. But perhaps the greatest improvement I have enjoyed is the placement of good cattle guards (what we call auto gates). As you might have guessed, I am the one who always has had the job of opening and shutting gates and we have a good number of them on our ranch. We now have good auto gates into several pastures, our calving lot, and places where I once had to open gates several times a day. You will never know how much I enjoy those auto gates!
Dick gibford:
To Over-Worked:
I try not to work very hard anymore, because I am getting a tad bit long in the tooth, or teeth (I have six left, the denture don't count), but my position on this outfit is unique, and I realize not everyone is so lucky, or whatever you want to call it. I still manage to man this remote cow camp, push the stragglers outta the mountains in late fall, and push some up in the spring that are too lazy to climb the steep mountain trails. I gather the big calves into a couple traps, cut the mama cows back out into the wilds with the bulls, and ride the water places and keep ’em maintained. That might sound like a lot to do, but it really isn’t if you like being horseback and have lotsa time.
As far as how to make a tough job more fun, well, when you have been a horseback cowboy for almost 60 years, a fellar’s definition of fun changes a little. When a cowboy is young, a lotta long circles and fast, kinda dangerous ridin’ seems a lotta fun. When older, it don’t take near as much to have fun. I never could figure out how to make a tough day in the saddle fun, just would cowboy up and try and think how to make it as easy on horses and cattle as possible…and keep in mind that Rome was not built in a day. At least on this ranch, there is usually always mañana.
You say the line between work and enjoying life gets blurry if not invisible. During drought years, we experienced that for sure. But aside from that, life here is usually not much of a battle, as long as we get enough rain. Thanks for the question, it's a good one, and makes us all think about what's really important.
Here's a poem I wrote that most folks seem to like:
Critters
My two best horses,
Buddy and Jerry,
Standing head to tail,
They have carried me over many a trail.
One is a strip-faced sorrel with a long red mane,
And Buddy’s the blaze-face chestnut with two sock feet,
Long scar on his hip where he got caught
Between a gate and a fence in a real tight spot.
We have lived in this camp for many years now,
And those are the best I have had to jump in front of a cow.
We are partners, me and those two,
When it comes to cowboying, they know what to do.
It's evening now and the cattle are stringing out to graze,
After being shaded up on another long hot summer day,
And lately there's been a waxing moon bright,
Making the coyote bark most the night,
And while the birds go to roost and coyotes howl,
The lion leaves its ledge for a night on the prowl.
And in a few more days when the moon’s big and white,
The bear will walk the country till long after daylight,
And if it don't wind a lion kill, or some such meal,
It will shade up in a big juniper at the top of a hill,
On the high ridges where afternoon zephyrs blow,
The big bucks lay in the shade looking down at the valley below.
Hawks and eagles are soaring around,
Screeching now and then,
Hoping to spook up a meal, down there on the ground.
There's a lot more critters,
I can’t mention them all,
From the biggest down to the small.
From the big range bull,
To the mama cow and her baby calf,
Just watching those calves play makes me laugh.
I reckon critters mean more to a man,
When there's no people around,
And you live way out in a camp,
50 miles from town.
-Dick Gibford
Annie mackenzie:
A cooler full of beer and good people.
DW Groethe:
One of my favorite parts of this lifestyle is how it's always a part of your day no matter what you're doing or where you're doing it. Sooner than later, you're gonna be talking livestock or haying or fencing or one of a million other things that are ag-related. But when it comes down to a job that turns work into something fun, you can't beat a good branding when all the neighbors show up to help. (That's why it's called 'neighboring.') Plenty of folks to swap around the various jobs that need doing so everybody gets some break time and time to b.s. and maybe have the odd libation to help settle the dust a bit. I mean, you just can't beat a good branding for putting fun into what could be a lot of hard work for just a few hands. Thanks for the question.
Ta daa,
dw
Bill Lowman:
That's a deep question that I could write a 200-page book on, but I will answer it in a single word. Humor!
A good, honest day of hard physical work can keep a person young, both body and mind. It's when you quit is when you get old. I grew up beside my two older brothers and our dad, doing it all by hand–pitching hay, developing spring water for cattle in deep, heavy mud bogs and deer flies, hand cutting cedar posts in the winter to be hand dug in a fence line come summer. There was always 40 head of horses around to groom tails, trim feet, and start colts.
My brothers and I excelled in all sports in high school and college. We grew up with, developed, or inherited a dry humor to make long, hard, tough jobs bearable. Our dad was a natural at it.
I now have had many local, state, and national achievement awards and am very honored and humbled by them. But my deep love and motivations continue to be to develop our Badlands home ranch that I grew up on, and to do so with the help of our next generation son and family from across the yard.
Yes, it's a hard life. I've had nine broken bones and two head concussions trying to "prove up" to older siblings that have now produced four major joint replacements. I've also battled a lifelong dyslexia disorder. Webster calls a vacation “a period of rest and freedom from work.” My description of it is to enjoy your daily work with humor. I don't think Noah owned his own ranch.
Waddie mitchell:
Wrote this last winter, true story.
Red Breasted Robin
Early spring can bring cold storms
That might start out as rain
Then freezes the moisture left
And do it all again
Your boots freeze to the stirrup
Icicles hang from brim
Water trickles down your back
Numb ears and nose and chin
It had been a six-week month
Since we had been to town
We're close to rolling our beds
To rid us of our frowns
Brian swung in from the rear
He’s cowboss for the crew
Looking straight ahead full time
Pulled up between us two
Not one of us acknowledged
that he was even there
Mad's hugging close as spandex
We feel it everywhere
Icicles hung two inches
Off Brian's waxed up 'stache
He asked, if we like poetry
Then sat up unabashed
"Red breasted robin
Sitting on a pole
Wiggle waggle went his tail
PWFFFF went his hole"
He hadn't turned his head one bit
We three had held our wails
Until he blew that big PWFFFF
That's when we lost ourselves
Those icicles on his 'stash
Exploded in the air
We near fell off of our horses
Things got better right there
We sure weren't any drier
And weren't warmer at all
But we didn't roll our beds
’Fact stayed through works that fall
A well-timed funny moment
Can turn things a different way
Brian built a good mem'ry
From a cold and nasty day
-Waddie Mitchell
