“I’m not sure if they were speaking Shoshone, Piute, or Washoe, but no one spoke English as we headed out to the desert.
“You should have seen it Jackie, cattle everywhere. It felt like I was with Billy Crystal and Daniel Stern in the movie City Slickers. I was on my horse the whole day. It feels like I’m still on that horse, my legs are killing me.”
“Yeah, Christina, you smell like you’re still on that roundup. I hope you’re taking a shower,” Jackie wrinkles her nose.
“Yeah, right after I finish the story,” I warn. Besides that’s Neewa.
“Neewa was running around the cattle like she knew how to round them up. She nipped at the cows’ tails to get them to move faster. Once when a cow stopped right in front of her, she looked the cow straight in the eye and barked. The cow turned and ran to escape her glare. If a cow turned in the wrong direction, Neewa circled around and brought it back to the herd.
“Someone would give a command in Shoshone, Piute, or Washoe. Dad and I would look at each other with a blank stare. Chester translated only if it was something we needed to know.
“Chester would yell, ‘Stay by that sage brush,’ or ‘Don’t move,’ or ‘Move to the left.’
“Dad and I learned a couple of Indian words, ’Stop,’ ’Go,’ and ’Don’t move, you diaboos.’”
Dad, excited, continues the story while I go take a shower.
“We rounded up all the cattle in the desert. That took almost all day. It had to be after two in the afternoon before we stopped for a drink of water.
“Then we drove the cattle down a long dirt road, with a fence on either side, to a corral. That was the easy part cause all we had to do was stay behind them and keep moving.
“Occasionally, a steer would break away, get through a broken part of the fence and run for the hills. One of the cowboys would have to go round up the cow and drive it back to the herd.”
Dad laughs, “Neewa ran off into some trees. It was the perfect place for her with a shimmering stream, shade from the sun, and plenty of water. She probably wanted to get a drink or go for a swim and cool off. I saw her chewing on the green grass on the bank.
“Then she started rolling around on the ground scratching her back. Dirt and dust rose all around her as she wriggled around. I didn’t know what she was doing.
“We continued down the road with the cattle when Neewa returned from her break. As soon as she got close to me, I realized what had happened. She had been rolling around in cow manure and she was covered in it.
“Ha-ha.”
“’Oh my God, you stink!’” I yelled.
Returning from my shower I interrupt Dad, “I told Neewa, ’You smell so bad you are going to have to stay outside on your chain and sleep in one of your dens.’
“When we passed the next pond, I took her for a swim. We played fetch and she swam across the pond a few times, but that didn’t get all the smell off.”
Dad butts in, “We finally arrived at two big corrals that were in the middle of this wide-open field. Some how we were going to get all the cattle inside. Christina and I were assigned to guard the gate and we positioned ourselves twenty or thirty feet away. Our job was to guide the cattle into the corral and keep the ones inside from coming back out, which is exactly what they wanted to do.
“The only way to do this was to yell and wave our arms in the air to spook them in the right direction. Sometimes just raising an arm would scare the cattle enough to keep them from running back out.
“When Chester and Dave herded a whole bunch of cows in through the gate, the cows inside tried to escape. Again and again the cattle got spooked and ran in every direction. Sometimes they ran right at us, and then it was impossible to keep them all from escaping while driving still more cattle in.
“If you let one get by you, and it was your fault, the other cowboys gave you a look. That would be your signal to go and get the escapee and drive it back into the corral.”
Jackie’s eyes are fixed on us as she listens to every word. “Next we separated the calves from the cows and put them in a smaller corral. The calves screamed when they were taken from their moms. Some of them were not even weaned yet. It was sad, cows were mooing for their young. I wanted to die. They tried to get back to each other, crying, and blaring, ‘Moo! Moo!’ The calves kept running out of the corral and back to their moms, only to be separated again by one of us on horseback. That was the worst part. I don’t ever want to do that again,” Tears welled up in my eyes remembering the sadness.
Dad jumps in as I try to compose myself, “Cattle trucks arrived just when we finished getting the cows and calves separated. Finally the calves were all in the small corral. They were staying on the ranch and will be Dave’s herd next year. The rest of the cattle were loaded into the trucks.
“But in order to get the cattle into the trucks, they had to be chased through this chute that led to the trailer. The chute is a four-foot wide corridor in the corral with fence on both sides. It has drop down doors to control the number of cattle passing through. After that, they go up a ramp into the truck’s trailer.”
Dad adds, “The truck drivers have to get the trailer door really close to the top of the chute. If not, the cows jump between the trailer and ramp to freedom. Several cows made the four-foot jump and ran to the other corral to be with their calves. They mooed and mooed until they were roped and dragged back to the chute by a cowboy.
“Then it was done, finally they were all loaded and two trucks full of cattle headed for the auction.”
I continue the story, “At this point I want to go home. I feel like I’m going to collapse from emotional and physical exhaustion.
“I rode Stork back to Dave’s barn. I took her saddle off and put away her blanket, bridle, and all her stuff. She walked back to her stall and started eating oats. I went straight to the van.
“Dad and I followed the trucks into town. On the way, I could hear the cows screaming and mooing for their calves. Their cries are still ringing in my ears.”
Dad chimes in as I pause to go get some water, “Today was auction day and the buyers and sellers were ready to get started. We followed the trucks to the market right in town near the railroad. The auction is enormous with dozens of corrals full of cattle. Each rancher’s herd of cattle is put in a different corral where they are sold.
“Sounds were coming from everywhere in the huge railroad yard. Railroad car wheels squealed and train whistles blew. The auctioneer tested his mike getting ready to start the bidding. Cattle were mooing, cowboys yelling orders to each other as cattle hooves stomped up and down ramps.
“Finally, all of Dave’s cattle were unloaded from the trucks into a corral.
“The auctioneer went around to each herd yelling into his microphone for an opening bid.
“Quickly he began his chatter into the microphone, ’Do I hear fifty cents a pound? Fifty? Fifty, give me fifty cents? Do I hear fifty? There ya go, I have fifty cents, do I hear fifty-five? Fifty-five? Fifty-five? Give me fifty-five cents.’
“The auctioneer walked from corral to corral and the bidding continued until all the cattle were sold to the highest bidder.
“The auction was over, trains were loaded with cattle and off to the slaughterhouse they went.
“Dave went to the cashier and picked up his check, and we came home.”
“That was my cowboying experience. I’m going to remember this day for the rest of my life. I’ll probably never do it again, ever. I’m going to bed after I take a nice hot bath. You did save me some hot water? Didn’t you Jackie?”
Jackie looks over at me and says, “Christina, you probably used it up when you took a shower before.”
“Cool, sounds like you guys had a good time. I’m going to bed. Brice and I stayed up late last night, good night.” Jackie walks to her room, returning to her TV show.
I whisper to Dad, “My legs hurt pretty bad, my thighs are burning from holding onto that horse. It feels like they are going to hurt for a week. Tomorrow is Saturday and I’m staying in bed all day, so don’t wake me. I mean it. Don’t wake me up.”
“Did you have fun?” Dad asks.
“Yeah, I had fun, but it was so sad separating the calves from the cows. I cried. They were calling each other, it was terrible,” I mope off to the bath.
Dad reminds me, “We are going to leave Neewa outside tonight even though it will be cold. She can sleep in one of her caves or dens or whatever they are to stay warm. I will feed her and give her water. Hopefully, she won’t smell so bad tomorrow. If she rolls around in the dirt a few times she’ll get most of the smell off, or else you’ll have to give her a bath tomorrow.”
“Yeah, sure, I’ll give her a bath tomorrow,” I agree.
I lay on my bed, reliving the day.
It was nice of Dave to take us out to dinner at the restaurant. The place was downtown, a few blocks from the train yard. As I walked along Railroad Avenue the bright lights of the casino downtown flashed, “Jack Pot,” “Jack Pot,” alternating with yellow, red, and orange. One casino’s flashing lights depicted a twenty-foot high neon cowboy with a cigar in his mouth and a fist full of dollars.
Jogging across the tracks, we put the bright lights behind us as we pass a movie theatre, bank, and a pawn shop.
We arrived at the restaurant. From the outside it looks like it was probably built a hundred years ago. Walking inside, the left wall had cute little booths with tall chrome coat racks at each chair back. On the other side was a long counter, bordered with metal-rimmed stools topped with cushioned green vinyl. I walked by, spinning several of them. They glisten in the bright fluorescent lights from above. Then I collapsed into a green vinyl bench seat with a squeak and puff of air. Each booth just big enough for two people on either side.
The twelve-foot high restaurant walls were green too, although a different shade. Or maybe they were just covered with a coat of grease from the fryers and grills. Above them the fans turned lazily under the embossed tin ceiling, painted white.
Behind the restaurant counter was all the action. One cook on the grills, another busy at the sandwich board, and yet one more chatting with the cute waitress that helps bring in the regular customers.
Conversations were plenty as I quietly listened to those around me. Charlie seems to have lost most of his stake in the casino and doesn’t want to go back to the ranch. Randy is sitting at the counter after having drunk too much, and isn’t sure if he should go back to the Pioneer Bar for a Bud, or stay here and have another cup of Joe.
The waitress bounced from table to table trying to cover up any mistakes the cooks may have served up.
She politely smiled at each patron, “Is everything all right? Can I get you anything dear?”
Families were interspersed throughout the dinning room. They’re traveling long distances and have stopped to eat and shake off the road.
Someone asked in a tired and road-weary voice, “Is there a good motel nearby? Clean, with plenty of hot water?”
I wouldn’t touch that one, the motels here are known for problems with their hot water supply. Well-meaning locals suggest a variety of motels for the weary traveler.
Smiling, the waitress asked enthusiastically, “What’ll you have, sweetie?”
“Burger, fries, and a Coke please.” I looked up at her as she wrote on her pad of checks, ready to hand in the next ticket to the cook.
During dinner Dave told his story. “I borrow money to buy and raise cattle just like any other rancher. The price of cattle has gone down, it could go down even more. If that happens I’d get an even lower price than I got today. I had to sell my cattle now because there is no telling what the price is going to be tomorrow. I’m not going to make much money this year. But I can’t take a chance that the price will go down even more. Then I’d lose money. So I have to sell the herd now. At least I’ll have enough money to raise another herd. I hope to get a better price next year.”
Dave continued, “I’m going to keep my calves and buy more with the money from the sale today. I’ll feed them all year and then sell them next year. If my bull is healthy, I’ll have a lot more calves in the spring. I’ll brand those newborns and let them out into the desert to graze.”
After I had enough to eat we were ready to leave. I said, “Good luck, Dave.”
Chester said, “See you guys.”
Dave said, “See ya.”
Dave and Chester were staying at the restaurant to have some dessert and coffee. We were ready to go home. Dad and I walked back to the van.
Neewa was resting on the back seat and jumped up as we approached the van. She was glad to see us. But I was not so happy to smell her. The whole car stunk of manure.
Usually Neewa jumps all over me when she sees me. But because she smelled so bad, I didn’t let her near me. I told her to get in the back. Then I gave her the rest of my cheeseburger, which she gobbled down in under three seconds.
I held my nose, “Neewa you smell.”