The Sorting Crash

It's a wonderful time of year. The "fall run" is on and cowboys all over the country are celebrating as they ship calves.

Many ranches today precondition (vaccinate) the calves a few weeks before weaning them off of their mamas. These vaccinations are follow-up boosters to the shots they received at branding time. This is a proactive approach to cattle health. The vaccine develops the immune systems of the calves who are about to be stressed from being weaned.

Good natured jokes can abound with each cowboy doing his best to not be outdone. On one such occasion, up on a large ranch in Wyoming, was a crew of good punchers who were getting the jobs done. It didn't matter that the corrals were ten miles away because in this modern day era trailers full of panels were assembled into a large corral.

After our cattle were gathered, some stayed mounted for the sorting process. My job that day, was to be the man at the gate and to hold my ground. The gate was not really a gate but an opening in the large panel corral. With my sorting paddle in hand, the mama cows were released back out to the pasture.

When the leaders found the way out, the cattle flowed like water. Sometimes the trick is to not let that flow turn into a mad rushing fire hydrant. Small smooth movements and the rattle of a paddle can turn a calf back and allow cows to continue by.

There were a couple cowboys ready to rope just in case I missed a calf in my sort. They could taste the adrenaline and the chance for a fancy quick loop. My goal was to disappoint them and have a smooth and clean sort.

Most cows are initially selfish and happy to escape. Once they were out, they turn and bawl as they realize their calf is not by their side. The cows and calves kept me on my toes and all went fine until the last...

There was one mama cow, who stayed with her calf. They were determined to stay together and my perfect sort was in jeopardy with these two. Finally they separated and the cow came running to the gate. I smiled and waved bye as she loped on out.

There was no time to drag the panels closed though because here came the calf on a mission to catch up. He had fire in his eyes and steam on his breath and this was to be my final test. Now I'd sorted a couple hundred this morning already without one problem so I thought I surely could turn one more.

The steer calf was running me down, with no intention to stop. "Don't weaken!" I heard as the crew watched the scene. I waved and shouted to turn his course. I thought he'd divert when I held my ground, but he would not be discouraged.

He rammed me and heaved me upon his back. I began riding this beast with amazing speed, and backwards to boot, all the way through the cows. My sort was still good because he hadn't officially escaped. This was the adult, albeit backward, version of mutton bustin'.

The calf drifted toward the barbwire fence and I was losing my hide faster than I was winning the battle. The ropers were coming, and I started to dread, whose neck would get stretched... mine or the bovine? Just before a loop set sail, the calf won its freedom through a barb wire fence. What a dirty trick to scrape off his rider on this man-made hide scratcher.

Some skin was certainly lost in this ordeal, but my jacket saved me some. The guys couldn't complain because I hadn't hollered quit. No ribbing I endured, not even a bit.