When I was about 18 years old, I moved out north of Jonesboro on 141 to ‘the farm’. The Farm was where Dad had his herd of Registered Brangus Cattle. Dr. O’Neal actually owned the farm, and I was supposed to live out there and take care of the cattle. For about 3 months, we had a ‘real’ cowboy living out there too. Let’s call him ‘Phil’. He was a student at ASU, and a part-time professional Bull Rider.
Phil taught me that there is a lot more to taking care of cattle than what you learn watching Rawhide. Taking care of cattle is hard work. There’s fences to maintain, and hay to bale and haul. Salt and Mineral blocks have to be put out. You have to count the cattle every day and if you come up one short, then you have to find her. If they are sick, you have to medicate them. Sometimes, when they are calving you have to help. It’s a lot of hard work. Being the ‘junior’ cowboy, I did all the work that the ‘Senior’ cowboy didn’t want to do.
I spent a lot of time riding horses. I found that a horse was the best way to check the fences. Every day, I had to check the fences around what ever pasture the cattle were in. This wasn’t a big deal unless it was storming…..or sleeting…..or …..snowing. It’s a good idea to stay off of horses when it’s lightening. Sleet, well….sleet and snow just made it miserable, cold and wet. I rode a lot, and was very comfortable horseback. I spent a lot of time learning about cattle and horses from Phil.
Phil, as I said, was a professional bull rider. He had a pretty significant scar, and a cheekbone that was apparently missing on the right side of his face. Seems he’d been kicked a couple years ago, and had to get his face rebuilt by a surgeon. Phil’s friend, John Wayne, used to laugh and say Phil wasn’t as ugly as he used to be.
One afternoon after drinking beer for several hours, Phil and I went to visit a couple of his friends over at another ranch. Enid was one of Phil’s ‘bull riding’ friends. At that farm, they had a whole bull riding arena set up. There was a chute with a gate that swung open to let the bull loose. Enid and Roscoe were just goofing off drinking beer, and soon the talk turned to riding.
I watched each of them take a turn and ride the bull. Each time, we’d get the bull in the chute, and work the rope under them and back up to the rider. The rider would wrap the rope several times around his hand, scoot way up tight on that hand, and lean back just a fuzz. Whoever was working the gate would holler “Ready?” Then, the rider looked back at the gate man and gave a nod. The gate would fly open. The bull would leap out of the chute and spin and jump and twist and hop until either the rider came off, or jumped off. One of the other guys would distract the bull while the rider escaped over the fence.
I drank beer and watched all this very closely. “Hell, You could do that”, a voice in the back of my head said. “I don’t think so”, I said to myself as I opened another beer. “That first big jump out of the chute is the biggest thing that bull does”, the voice whispered. “He’s a wimpy bull. He only spins around once or twice”, he calmly observed. “Those hops were pretty much straight up and down. Piece of cake, You got this”, the voice confidently whispered in the back of my mind.
“I got this”, I whispered to myself.
“Hold my beer.”
Minutes later, adrenalin pumping, I’m about to ride my first bull. Phil, Enid and Roscoe all gave me good and valuable advice. Phil said ‘Kiss your ass goodbye’. Enid said “My money says he doesn’t even make it out of the chute.” Roscoe said he wished he had a movie camera.
We got the bull into the chute, and I climbed up and onto the bull. The first thing I noticed was that sitting on the back of a bull was about like trying to straddle a Ford Pickup truck. “This”, I thought to myself,” is a very large animal.” The little voice in the back of my head went silent, absolutely silent. Each breath the bull took made me feel like I was sitting atop a pulsing volcano. Crickets from the little voice. I was amazed at how solid the bull was. His muscles were like stone, and I could feel them tense and relax as he moved a little in the chute. What I hadn’t noticed before was the ominous sound of his snorts. It was like he was just clearing his throat before he destroys something. I swear I could hear the theme to ‘Jaws’.
Where was the confident little voice in the back of my mind when I needed him? I’m starting to have second thoughts as Phil hands me the rope, and I start wrapping it around my hand. When ever the bull shifts, it feels as if the earth has moved. I am becoming very concerned about the wisdom of this. I scooted up tight on my hand. Still crickets from the little bastard in the back of my mind; Not a peep.
Enid was acting as the gate man. “Ready?”, he shouts.
Enid’s shout startled me from my thoughts and I looked at him. This may have been a mistake. I had just then concluded that this bull riding thing was a bad idea. However it was too late. It seems that simply looking at Enid, as opposed to the nodding to Enid, was the signal to open the gate.
Lesson noted.
The gate flew open, and all the demons from all the religions in all the history of humankind convened in the form of the bull I that was sitting atop. This demon possessed beast burst into flames and flew from that gate with the force of a volcanic eruption. The universe creating Big Bang had nothing on the eruption that shot this bull out of the chute. It was as if I were sitting atop Mount St. Helens. Holding on tightly by my one hand wrapped in the bull rope, on lift off my shoulder was nearly torn from my body as the flaming bull took off like an Atlas 5 rocket. I felt my butt lift off from the back of the bull. Just as I was landing back on the shoulders of the bull, he flicked his shoulders as if he was shaking off a chill. I flew off of the bull in a ballistic arc the peak of which I am sure was no less than sixteen feet. I know this because I was looking down a good ways at an eight foot fence. I’m pretty sure I added some feminine sounding sound effects in mid flight. Being a quick thinker, I was still going up in the course of the arc when I began thinking about the landing. The launch from the bull’s back had put me off balance and I seemed for a moment to be on my back doing a back flip. At this point, I had regained 100% sobriety and the little voice in the back of my mind was back. “I wonder how much this is going to hurt”, that little bastard solemnly intoned. I think he had a pretty good idea how much this was going to hurt. I wasn’t sure I could figure out how to land this gracefully, but before I could give it much thought I hit the ground.
There are those that will tell you that when you fall, if you think that you may be hurt, (you know, broken bone hurt), you should remain still. Do not move.
Those people have never been thrown by a bull. Not only should you move, but you should move very, very quickly. While wearing cowboy boots, I out sprinted a bull across a corral and scaled an eight foot fence in a single bound while continually exhaling after hitting the ground and busting some ribs.
Roscoe was supposed to be the ‘Clown’ to distract the bull so I could get up and get over the fence without interference from the bull. Let’s just say Roscoe is fired.
I made a point to tell my son a few things before he went to college. Important things, like always keep at least a half tank of gas in your truck, make sure you always have jumper cables, keep a blanket and a bottle of water in your truck, and always keep $200 in cash hidden in his wallet for emergencies. I especially cautioned him about the little bastard in the back of his mind. You know the one. He starts talking crap when you’ve been drinking. I emphasized to him that the little voice in the back of his mind is a freaking lunatic. No matter how much fun something sounds, that little bastard always has bad ideas. I never elaborated very much of my experiences along that line. I was trying to maintain some dignity and credibility. Perhaps I should have elaborated, but I was afraid it would take to long, and give him too many bad ideas.
It just seems like a bad idea. You got this.
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