It’s definitely summertime. Tucson hit record highs this weekend, over 110 degrees. But luckily Mitch and I were no where to be found- we were off on summer adventure part 1: Colorado. We arrived to Denver Thursday night along with my younger brother, Jimmy, and Friday morning loaded up into a too-small-for-5-adults car with my mom and aunt and headed south- to The Ranch! The Ranch has been something of lore for most of my life. My grandpa is partial owner/investor in a cattle ranch. It was originally located in Wyoming, but moved to southern Colorado in the late 90s. We arrived after 6 hours in the car and many top 40 songs altered to include “cow” (I’ll never hear 21 Pilots: Stressed without singing “and now we’re stressed cows” again).
Friday night was for settling into “the old house” which was powered by an extension cord run from the current house and lacking working plumbing. There was however a nearby outhouse and the old bathroom contained a bathtub literally overflowing with alters. Who needs the Hilton with a place like this? It was like grown up summer camp- adorably rustic complete with ranch dog who lives outside and happily greets all visitors.
The locals commented on the heat, while we Arizona’s scoffed at the mid-80s and nice breeze and marveled at the lovely scenery and sunset. We got to take in some roping practice and even got some lessons from a neighbor kid who was about 6. He was quite sad to hear we lived in the city and didn’t have any horses of our own. After a family style BBQ we wandered around a little and headed to bed, knowing the next day was the main event.
Saturday morning the cowboys were up by 4:30am to head out to the pasture to separate the calves from the cows. Luckily they didn’t have any need for amateur volunteer ranch hands at the hour, and we didn’t need to report until about 9am. I volunteered to drive the water truck because I can drive stick and Mitch and Jimmy can’t. And what a truck it is- a large flatbed pickup with a 300 gallon water tank on it that would be used to spray down the corral mid-day to help with the dust. I consider myself a pretty proficient manual driver, but I definitely ground the gears a bit as i ambled down the dirt road with it’s deep ruts from many a truck and horse trailer who had come before me.
When we reached the pasture the separating was well underway. Calves were being corralled and their mothers were pushed into the nearby pastures, including the one that also functioned as a parking lot for all the neighbors and their horse trailers. The visual was pretty comical- cows literally walking in and out of trucks and people while their calves were roped and shooed into small corrals. The sound was like something I have never heard before- deafening moos coming from the distressed mothers as they walked along the fence, wanting their babies back and trying to find them. I couldn’t help but feel a little bad for these poor mamas, but I also knew they’d be reunited soon.
Then, it was branding time! Branding, i learned, is quite the event. Everyone comes. All the neighbors, friends, family, and anyone you can get. It is a true trade based system- you come to mine, I’ll go to yours. No one is paid for branding other than in cheap beer and a giant meal or two.
I’m a city kid through and through. I figured branding was just that- branding. You put the hot iron on the cattle, end of event. Nope. There is so much more to it! Branding includes vaccines, ear notching, ear tags, castration of the male calves, and then the actual brand. In this case the Brand is an upper case Y upright and then again on its side, meaning the calf gets the hot iron twice. This is a team event.
First, the ropers ride their horses into the pen and get a calf- by roping their back legs, in true rodeo fashion. They then drag the calf out by its hind legs- and I do mean drag. The calf is on its side at this point, falling over from the force of it’s legs being pulled out from under them. Then the “wraslers” come in- they’re lined up along the side in teams of two- a flanker and a header. The flanker grabs the legs, the header grabs the tail and they work together to flip the calf so its left side is up- all calves are branded on the left hind quarter. Once the calf is on the correct side, the guy with the tail goes up to the head and lays his knee on it- hard. These are baby calves, weighing up to 350-400 lbs. The flanker leans on its side while the header grabs its front leg and lifts it, T-Rex style. Then the next group comes in. While the calf is being held down it is given two vaccines by two different girls. As soon as they give the vaccine in the under arm area, for lack of a more scientific term, they mark the cow with colored grease chalk to signify it has been vaccinated. The calf also gets an earn notch and an ear tag. The brander comes over with a hot iron and lays in the brand. As you can imagine this is the hardest part for the guys holding down the calf- because that calf is not pleased! If its a male calf, a guy with a knife is waved to and he comes over. With two small cuts and a motion that looks oddly like milking, he removes the testes from the sack, meaning there is very little blood and no need for any additional help with healing. If a calf is noted to have a particularly runny poop or messy butt he might received an additional medication to treat him and keep him healthy. After this, the calf gets turned around so when he jumps up he doesn’t run back into the pen.
The calves jump and run a few feet away and seem bewildered for a couple of minutes, but then quickly go back to their usual cow business. They wander around and join the other group of calves, nibbling at grass and mostly just standing around. I imagine the branding feels much like getting a tattoo- hurts in the moment and smarts a bit afterward, but overall isn’t too painful. They don’t try to lick the wounds or really pay them any mind after 30 seconds or so.
This continued until just over half the calves were done. Then there was a beer/water/lemonade break, the corral was sprayed down with the water I so precariously drove over, and everyone chatted a bit. The corral was cleared and the first batch of cattle were reunited with their anxious mothers, happily trotting out into the pasture and continuing to eat and stare off into the distance. Then it was time for round two and the whole scenario repeated itself until all 430 cattle were branded, notched, vaccinated, tagged, castrated, and returned to their mothers.
I was fascinated. The entire time. Jimmy and Mitch were trained to “wrastle” and my mom, aunt, and I were instructed on how to vaccinate. We took turns and traded out with other vaccinators as well- there were 2 teams, but over 200 cattle is a lot of vaccines for one person to give! We had little helpers to chalk some of the time- this is the job given to the little girls who will be vaccinators in a few years. The little boys were in charge of “nut buckets” and followed the guy with the knife around to collect the newly separated testes. Teenage boys are wrestlers, and experienced riders and ropers go into the pen. The ranch owner or leader rides but doesn’t rope, he is there to direct, delegate, and oversee.
I expected chaos, but I got a well oiled machine. Everyone has a role- the youngest helper was about 3 and held hands with her mom while she vaccinated. Everyone watches over the little kids, but in all honesty they need very little supervision. These are ranch kids- they’ve grown up on horses, just like I grew up with a dog. There is no fear or concern, just total comfort when surrounded by huge animals.
I also expected redneck, Trump lovin, women hating macho men. But everyone was kind, welcoming, friendly, and happy to help. The sense of community was lovely and we city kids were embraced. We were taught how to do things, given help and examples, and allowed to be part of the big event. And when it was all done we returned to the ranch house with everyone else for a big meal and camaraderie.
Certainly stereotypical gender roles were present, but there was a teenage girl who helped wrastle, a young mom who was a roper, vaccinator, and general bad-ass and several other exceptions to the stereotypical. It made me happy to see that although these practices have been around and mostly unchanged for generations, the roles women play are certainly expanding. As I watched the little girls stride out and chalk calves with gusto, I was really proud and impressed by the conversion of traditional and modern and I’m confidant little 3 year old Kylie is going to be just as much of a bad-ass as her mom.
As for the cattle- they’re fine. For now. These are beef cattle. They’ll be sold in a few months and sent to a feed yard where they’ll gain weight and then be sent to the slaughterhouse. But they’re free to live a nice life until then. They have thousands of acres to roam and graze, and even the feed yards are outside with space to walk around, lie down, and do other cow things. From what I’ve observed that is mostly pooping wherever you please and staring off into the distance. Family ranching is very humane and not at all the torture you see in the movies or PETA ads.
I didn’t have strong opinions on farming or meat production prior to this, and honestly I still don’t. I eat beef. I’m sure much of it is raised in terribly conditions because I’m too poor to afford the free range, hormone, antibiotic free stuff. And I don’t see that changing. I’m a realist.
The final counts:
430 calves branded
40 people involved (easily)
6 calves wrangled by Mitch
12 calves wrangled by Jimmy (he’s young and spry)
100 (plus?) calves vaccinated by Annie
2 ranch dogs (one was darling puppy!)
2 nights
3 days
11 hours in the car (round trip)
1 crazy adventure and once in a life time experience (unless we go again next year!)
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