The rules for the day’s
events were complex and specific. Each event had separate rules and judges
carefully scored each team’s performance. With all of the seriousness of the
judging, they even had rules for the clothing of the teams. All teams were required to dress in Western attire, which
I have now learned means a cowboy hat, jeans, belt buckle, and button-up shirt
– pretty standard dress for Montana cowboys and girls. The day’s events began
with the Ranch Horse Class, which required the rider to catch a cow and rope
him around the neck and drive him into a pen. The second event timed each team
as they attempted to brand four calves in less than eight minutes. Team Penning
was the most strategic event of the day. The judge would give the participating
team a number as they entered the arena. The team would then ride through the herd of cattle and round up all of the cattle bearing their designated number.
This had to be done as quickly as possible and they could only allow the correct
numbered cows to cross the middle of the arena. If any cows crossed the middle
bearing an incorrect number, your team had to make sure they were herded back
across the line before time was called.
An important duty on any
ranch is administering medicine to sick cows. The fourth event timed each
team’s ability to head and heel a cow in order to get it to the ground and
administer any necessary doctoring. The roping skills that this event required
clearly demonstrated the upbringing of the participants. All around the arena,
young boys and girls were practicing their roping skills. I was even lucky
enough to learn the basics. Jared taught me the lingo and lessons of roping
with the ease of a seasoned cowboy. After a couple failed attempts, I finally succeeded
to lasso my first cow. Jared says that if I make it to the farm and fleet
store, I could pick up my own 31-foot Cactus rope in order to continue
practicing on my own.
Wild cow milking
solidified my love for the ranch rodeo – although, I don’t think my love was
ever in doubt. They let a wild cow, who had never been milked in her life,
loose into the arena. One team member then had to rope her around the head,
while the other two tried to slow her down enough to somehow milk her. Each
team ended up squeezing a drop or two of milk into the bottle and then racing it into the judges hand for the final pour. Wild cow milking quickly turned into wild cow wrestling for some unruly cows and sent one team member to the hospital due to injury. The
final event was herd counting. Teams worked together to lead a herd of cattle
between two barrels. Each cow was counted as they ran through the barrels and
teams had to give the judge the final number of the herd. While teams counted as quickly as the cows ran, the audience also tried to keep track
of the tally. I ended up only counting the correct number one time, whereas the
seven-year-old girl directly behind me counted correctly every single
time. I guess there are some skills that a Minnesota girl just didn’t learn growing up
with more fish than cattle in her backyard.




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