Cattle Drive Installment No. 2

For a Once-In-a-Lifetime Experience – Part II
By Mark Brickman

As you may remember from our last installment, I went on a cattle drive in 1991. As we left off, I was assigned a horse named Tank. Let me tell you why the Southern gentleman wanted to warn me about Tank. I didn’t know what a registered quarter horse meant, but that’s what Tank apparently was. I still don’t know what that means, but I found out that Tank could run like the wind. Too bad we were told quite emphatically that we were not allowed to let the horses run. Tank would win gold in Athens if he was on Team USA.

I have too many unbelievable stories to share, so I won’t dwell on Tank, but I was told that Tank was an unusual horse; he couldn’t be tied up to anything that wasn’t permanent, like a barn, a truck, a 50-story building. It’s just a real shame that a cattle drive in the middle of nowhere doesn’t have any of these fabulous structures. In the next few days, I witnessed Tank pull a twenty foot tree out of the ground, and the night before we left on our adventure of a lifetime, Tank (and I swear I didn’t have anything to do with it) pulled a fence down that had been standing for sixty years. As I lay uncomfortably in my sleeping bag on Sunday night out in the open on a pitch black night anticipating getting up and beginning my adventure, the yell of “stampede” as forty horses were let loose from the falling fence being pulled out of the ground somehow did not do anything to lessen my fear and apprehension. Ironically, it was just the first of many nights where no sleep would come.

Our cattle drive came complete with a trail boss, a chuck wagon with two cooks, about six professional cowboys and two non-English speaking Mexican guys who set up and took down our tents (tents with no bottoms!). On Sunday night when the trail boss was introducing himself, he was very clear that when he says “boots on the ground” at 4:30 AM, we were to get up. He, in the most friendly and warm way – not --told us that if he found us still in our sleeping bags after 4:30, he’d throw a bucket of ice cold water on us. I believed him. The cowboys told us that we should believe him; he’d done it before.

So after my first restless and fitful night, and waiting what seemed like two nights to hear the trail boss call out “boots on the ground,” I got up in the pre-dawn darkness and went to go search for my horse, little Tank. It was the warmest morning that we would see for this cattle drive. It was probably 40, but in the middle of the night without sleep, it felt freezing. I approached the large white horse, unbelievably still tied to the picket line, and groomed and fed him. I should mention at this point that we were instructed that we’d have to groom, feed and water our horses before we fed and groomed ourselves.

As I stood in the dark waiting for my horse to eat his oats, somebody walked by and said, “Why are you feeding that horse? Tank is down in the lower corral. You better hurry!”

Panicking, I went in search of the lower corral. I didn’t even know there was a lower corral. Sure enough, there was Tank running around in the huge fenced in area by himself. He and I walked back to where the food was, and yes, the grooming, watering and feeding process was repeated. And as everyone else was sitting down to our first breakfast together, I was standing there hand-feeding my horse because his head was too large to fit a feedbag on. That was enjoyable!

The trail boss said we’d be leaving at sun up, and that gave me just a little time to figure out how to get on my horse. Tank was too tall! His stirrups were above the level that I could reach my leg up to get on him. So embarrassingly, while everyone was already on his/her horse, laughing and waiting patiently – even my friend, Sam – I was walking around trying to find a stump or a huge rock that I could use to get on mine. After about five minutes of searching, I found a bucket and used that. I made the decision at that point that I would just stay on my horse without getting off for the next eight days. That would be shortlived.

Sure enough, at sun up we departed. Not so bad. Not so bad. We left the relatively comfortable confines of Spanish Springs Ranch and headed off on a narrow trail to find our 400 head of cattle, what was promised to be about 15 minutes. We were split into groups of A, B and C, which would allow each buckaroo to ride in a different position around the herd every day, left side, right side or rear. I can tell you that the rear is not a good position to be in and certainly not my favorite place to be.

We did eventually find the cattle, which were waiting in a large corral on the outskirts of the ranch. It was at first very exciting to be riding along, but mostly behind the 400 cows as we traversed the narrow dirt trail. I of course rode alongside Sam, who rode proudly, but tentatively. At this point, the riding was slow, easy and quite uneventful.

After about another hour, the trail expanded, and we took our pre-assigned spots on the left side of the herd. Just as I was settling in for a morning of …well, yes, riding my horse, Sam said, “I have to go to the bathroom.” Being a very dutiful friend, I responded, “I’ll wait for you,” and we stopped moving forward and Sam got off his horse and sauntered into the bushes to the side of the trail. I was a bit concerned that the cows and other riders were passing us by, but this was the call of nature! It was a higher calling. As I waited for Sam to do his business, I determined that I was going to have to give up going to the bathroom myself because I couldn’t possibly get off my horse.

After a few minutes, Sam called to me and said he needed my help. Knowing that Sam was a big boy, I knew it wasn’t something having to do with his zipper. Thank God! Sam said, “I can’t get back on my horse!” This was becoming an epidemic. “He won’t let me back on.”

I said, “Sam, just calm down. He just doesn’t know you yet. Let him relax a bit, and then try again.” Sam did just as I said… for about thirty seconds. Then he tried again. His horse, Red, was being a bit stubborn. My first thought was to jump off my horse so I could help Sam, but then reality set in and I realized then we’d have both of us off our horses. That wouldn’t work.

Sam was attempting to calm his horse down by screaming “Dummy! Dummy! Dummy!” Red didn’t seem to take kindly to that kind of treatment. I was becoming kind of upset myself. I truly didn’t know how to help. Sam then said, “Mark, you ride on ahead. I’ll get on. Let me just stay here by myself and I’ll get back on.”

“No, Sam.” I can’t leave you here…by yourself. What if you can’t get on?”

“No, really. I’ll get on. Let me just be here by myself. You go on ahead. I’ll see you soon.” As I turned around and headed back to the trail, I didn’t feel good about leaving. The cows and all the riders were long gone by now, so I headed back in the direction that we were headed before being rudely interrupted. I couldn’t help but feel that I was leaving Sam to die. How would I explain that to his brand new wife, Brenda? “No really, Brenda. He begged me to leave him. I swear! No, that’s not true. He’s a fabulous horseback rider!!” No, I don’t lie that well.

It took me at least fifteen minutes to catch up to the rear of the herd, and I realized that they were stopping ahead for a mid-morning break. How fortunate. Everyone got off his/her horse but me. I told you…I wasn’t getting off my horse! For nothing or no one. But I was getting more and more worried about Sam. What if he didn’t catch up? When would I report him missing? I didn’t want to embarrass him, and equally important, I didn’t want to hold us up.

Literally as I ran through my private thoughts, I looked up and saw in the very far distance a cloud of dust way, way off. Could that be Sam? What is that if it’s not Sam? Lo and behold, the cloud of dust was getting closer, and the excitement was stirring within me. I quietly said, “Way to go, Sam! You go, boy!!” I watched the cloud of dust grow in size and knew that I’d feel a lot better in just a minute. But as the dust became easier to define, I realized that the large cloud of dust was being caused by a truck heading in our direction. I was totally deflated and disappointed. Did they see Sam? Is he still way back there trying to get on his horse? Does he have any life insurance? (No. I didn’t think that last one.)

As the truck’s approach became ever closer, I focused on the driver. Oh, my God! It was Sam. What? So here was Sam driving the truck, and even more unbelievable, with him in the truck were several Asian people. Was this my first mirage? I just couldn’t believe my eyes.

I rode over to the truck as it slowed down and greeted Sam. Before I could even ask him anything, Sam’s horse being ridden by a man I’d never seen before brought up the rear. I was flummoxed. Sam said, “I couldn’t get on the horse, so I started walking on the trail, and here comes this truck! So he stopped and said, ‘Need a ride?’” It was too good to be true.

As for the extra people in the truck? Well, you’ll just have to wait for my next installment.

To be continued…