Round Up

The other day, I got up around 6:30 and knew I had round up, which did not excite me. Round up is what it sounds like. A couple of us get on horses and ride out to the pasture to bring in all the horses for the day. Again, this is that cowboy imagery that I’ve grown up idolizing but when it comes down to it, I don’t enjoy going fast on horses. I still haven’t fallen off of one yet and hope I never will. I’m pretty comfortable trotting around in the saddle, but loping is a different story. And the problem is once one horse starts going fast, they all do.

So I took my shower and put on all my gear (cowboy hat, denim jacket (yeah, it’s not hipster and out here, just American), jeans and boots) and headed out to the corral. Cooper was getting out there about when I was and we got ready to mount up. Speedy (the very same horse who tried to kill me day one), Murray (I ride him a lot, but he walks like he’s drunk), and Hector Luis Gonzalez (he’s a womanizer) were all hitched up and ready to go. I figured I’d ride Speedy or Murray (they’re the only two I’ve ridden consistently). I settled on Speedy because I hadn’t ridden him in a while.

Tim Bishop, the last cowboy, showed up around then to help us out. I started brushing Speedy and noticed he was pretty jumpy. He was not cooperating at all, turning his butt to me every time I tried to brush him, moving around. So Tim walks over to grab a hold of him and then things got pretty scary. Tim got a hold of his lead rope and Speedy starts going nuts, so I move out of the way. I mean this horse is braying, jumping everywhere. Then he goes up on his hind legs and lunges at me and Tim. I’m behind Tim so he falls back on me and we both smack into the fence.

Let me preface this by saying, Tim Bishop is just about the sweetest man you’ll ever meet. I mean he’s a tough old dog, but he’s always smiling, never has a harsh word to say to anybody, and rarely gets angry. So needless to say when he does get angry, it’s not pretty. He grabbed Speedy by the lead rope and tugged him back down to eye level, “I will kill you horse! I was trying to loosen your rope so you could eat!” (Yeah, Tim talks to them a lot). He then made Speedy give him a kiss and make up, which was funny. And nobody was hurt.

But needless to say, after that I was not about to ride Speedy. This was my first time on round up duty, I don’t enjoy going fast, and I got the impression that was gonna happen. “You’re breathing pretty hard, a little shook up?” Tim asked with a smile and a slap on my back. “Little bit,” I confessed. So I saddled up Murray, a great big sorrel, and mounted up. Then things decided to get crazy again.

Murray doesn’t like dogs that much. He’s kind of used to them, but doesn’t like them. So I’m on top of Murray, and he starts kicking and freaking out. So I grab onto to the saddle horn, always my first reaction when things go wrong, and pull the reins back. “Whoa, whoa,” I tell him. I get him to stop and Tim walks up. “Get off for a minute.” Tim was in the rodeo for years, broke horses to pay for college. Like I said, the last cowboy. He gets up on Murray and pulls the reins around, makes him go in circles and calms him down.

He rides Murray up to the fence and dismounts. “Alright,” he smiles and hands me the reins. I take a deep breath and get in the saddle. The morning’s already got me worried enough without sprinting across a field with horses. I get on Murray and Tim’s standing there holding him steady. He knows I’m shook up. “Hey, you feel good?” he asks energetically. “I’m alright,” I say half-heartedly, hoping he’ll tell me I don’t have to go. But Tim’s not one to let you off the hook and I need to suck it up. Tim says, “Hey, just do it like the Duke.” With that, I nudge Murray’s sides and we go out into the field.

Rebel and the three other ranch dogs are running in and out of the horse’s feet like idiots, but Murray is used to it by now. Fortunately, Cooper is with me, mounted on Hector. He’s a really calm guy and never worried. He starts making small talk to try and calm me down. I’m starting to feel better at this point. Riding slow or even trotting (which is by no means fast) doesn’t bother me anymore. But I know we’re gonna lope which isn’t as fast as a gallop, but is faster than I want to go.

We cross the creek over into the back pasture. It’s high enough to come up over Murray’s legs and hit my boots. Not shallow. I start thinking about how scary it’s gonna be tearing back over that creek with a herd of horses. Cooper’s just chatting away as if he’s been doing this everyday his whole life. He’s been riding only a little longer than I have, as far as I know.  We get across the creek and I see the herd in the distance. It’s Pedro, whose the size of Godzilla and is the jumpiest horse you’ve ever met, Millie and Belle, both painted, both sisters, both fast, then Red Cloud, huge horse, beautiful, and Tex, sweetest horse you’ve ever met, most cooperative by far, closest one to being like a dog.

Cooper and I get up behind the four of them and Cooper looks at me, “Alright,” he says, “We have to yell at them and get them going. It’s how Tim does it and it’s the only way I know.” I gulp, “Do they go fast?” Cooper nods, “Yeah, just hold Murray back if you want.” We both know Murray isn’t gonna stay back once they get going.

Cooper gets behind them and does his best cowboy whoop and holler. The horses start trotting. Sure enough, Murray starts to trot too. I pull down my hat, get a good grip on the reins and think, “Here we go.” The horses start running, just like you see in the movies, and Cooper and I are right on them driving them towards the creek across that rocky Wyoming soil. I’ve got my hand so tight on that saddle horn it might as well be glued down.

The herd cuts right through some trees and we stop short, they’re coming back around in front of us. I pull around to the left to cut them off and we hit the water. So there we are with the morning light gleaming off the water, kicking up waves and running those horses towards that deeper creek crossing. I suddenly realize this is just like everything I’ve held dear growing up. I remembered John Wayne in The Cowboys running those horses up the hill in the opening credits. I remembered Tom Selleck in Monte Walsh driving horses across the rocky creek. I remembered Gus McCrae (Robert Duvall) and Woodrow Call (Tommy Lee Jones) driving that herd of cattle to Montana in Lonesome Dove. And in some cheesy way, it’s like I’m all a part of that now.

I was terrified flying across that sage and rock laden ground in the orange morning light, but I couldn’t help but feel so happy at the same time. I was driving horses. It was something I had thought about since I was six or seven and now I was doing it. I was still holding on for dear life, but as we came close to the corral and those horses started to ease up, I couldn’t help but look at them going in in front of me and think of how awesome it all was.

Tim was waiting in the corral, smiling as usual. “How’d it go?” he asked me. “Not bad,” I smiled and dismounted.