Rain or Shine

#bfrdpwy #aginternship #RightRisk

The week began with a bang—literally. Monday morning, I was assigned to thistle duty. This task was supposed to be completed by spraying ten days prior, but due to my own negligent hose management and the power of the wheel, it had been postponed while we waited on a nozzle for the spraying tank. By the time the tank was up and running, however, the thistles had gotten big enough that there was concern that spraying them would cause them to seed, thus negating the point of killing them in the first place.

As such, I found myself armed with tree trimmers and an iron resolve, mounted on my steady steed: the 4-wheeler. With dark skies crowding in overhead, I worked as quick as I could, but it didn’t matter for long—rain started pouring down from the heavens. Fortunately, the thistles were located in a draw with a small amount of overhead cover—as such, I managed to take some shelter from the rain and continue to cut away at the thistles from within. Lightning was crashing down not far from where I was, but with my being in a low spot among the hills, I wasn’t terribly worried, so I kept working away.

Before long, I had a couple realizations: 1. I wasn’t going to get any drier, 2. The rain wasn’t going to stop, and 3. Under no conditions was I going to go back without having completed the task—my pride wouldn’t allow it. Recognizing that, I stepped out from under my meager cover and got to work. Around 12:30, the rain let up, and by 1:00, I was done and headed back to the house.

Tuesday ran long—we sprayed cattle at the HN, just as we did the week prior, in preparation for moving up the mountain. We gathered, we hauled by semi (which offered me the opportunity to ask my host every question I could think of and check my recollection on a few I had already asked), we sprayed, and we were home just before dusk.
Wednesday morning came wild—we kicked the day off with a dash of calf wrestling. It turned out that one calf had been missed while branding, so he and his mother had been hauled back to the houses and kept there until we could get around to him, which happened to be Wednesday. While he wasn’t technically a maverick (that’s an unbranded calf with no mother) he darn sure would have made Tom Cruise proud—it took several minutes, a failed attempt to flank him, and an unhinged gate to get him into a smaller pen. Here, I had the opportunity to redeem my failed flanking attempt, and I took it gladly (flanking, for those that don’t know, is the act of flipping a calf by picking him up by the flank and brisket/shoulder. It’s commonly demonstrated in rodeo by calf ropers). Once we had him down, it was a standard branding: brand him, make your ear marks, vaccinate, and let him loose. After that, I spent my day learning how the water truck works and running water to the herd in the eastern portion of the ranch, where the waterline to the tank had failed for an unknown reason.

We had Thursday off, so I was back at it on Friday with one of the ranch hands, Andrew, to fix some fence. I had been with him on Wednesday for the water runs, too, and these both came with an awful lot of advice from the experienced cowboy on working on ranches. From Andrew, I learned heaps about what I should look for in an employer in this industry and what to offer as an employee, should I get the chance.
In the afternoon, I did a few odd jobs around the house, including washing saddle pads and cinches and sweeping the shop.

Saturday was short, with a task list only three items long: cut down the burdock (a weed that isn’t toxic, but eventually develops burrs that can and will blind a cow), lay out some salt, and spread some more bugs.
The biggest lessons from this week were from Andrew, I think—the best way to learn how to lead is to listen to those who follow. Andrew’s been on both sides of that fence, and he’s stood in my boots, so his advice really was welcome insight. The next lesson was one that I have known for years, courtesy of my wonderful parents and a life of sports: if you’re already covered in dirt (or rain), you’ve got no reason to shy away from more dirt. The last big one: if it’s overcast, take a rain jacket. Or at least wear your felt.

Submitted by: Leigh Stockton
Edits by: GrowinG Internship Team