Unbranded

I love looking at old vintage images of what life used to be like on the American frontier. These small grainy squares of visual information are like silent storytellers around a campfire, telling jokes and repeating stories about life on this frontier... the way the hills and mountains rise up to an endless sky, the way livestock seem to be the most loyal and worthy companions, the way people always seem to be staring deeply into a wide open landscape who's dangers and treasures have given their lives meaning. 

And yet, looking at these old pictures makes it feel as though the true experience of the untamed frontier has been forever lost to highways, gas stations, rest stops... or perhaps simply to a preference for comfort and convenience. You can hop in your car and pass the same landscapes captured in these vintage images, but you don't get to test your ability to survive in it, you don't get the same sense of never-ending natural challenges, and you don't allow yourself to be formed by the unpredictable West. 

At the same time the experience may seem out of reach or lost to progress, there are people willing to reclaim it, live it once more, and reveal the vast amount of the west that are still wild. A group of four young men have recently embarked upon an expedition that will take them through the uninhabited frontier of five western states. Beginning in Arizona at the US-Mexico border, they will travel north through the Grand Canyon, up into Utah, through Idaho, Wyoming, and Montana, all the way to the US-Canada border. 

Reviving the frontier

Ben Masters, Thomas Glover, Ben Thamer, and Jonny Fitzsimmons decided that they were going to take this trip not only to prove to themselves that they could, but to prove to the rest of the continental US that the freedom and risk of the American frontier still exists. 

Riding through the Grand Canyon, AZ

The riders, graduates in wildlife conservation from the Texas A&M University, took care to map out a travel route that ensures they will remain away from any man-made road or trail for 90% of their trip. Along the way, they plan to stop every ten days at pre-arranged ranches to replenish their supplies and rest for one night. 

The riders' travel companions are all mustangs. At the turn of the last century, there were millions of wild mustangs roaming the West. Today their numbers dwindle frighteningly-- less than 37,000 remain in the wild and 43,000 are held in captivity by the Bureau of Land Management, waiting to be adopted. The horses that the riders adopted were all born and raised in the wild; they trained them and began developing a relationship with them well before they began their journey. 

A man, a mustang, and the West

The riders claim that the decision to adopt mustang horses was based on the far that "they are tough, rarely go lame, have a good sense of self-preservation, and keep their weight." This practical reason for choosing mustang horses is later qualified by another, more personal reason. They wanted to offer freedom to some of these mustangs living in captivity, waiting to be adopted... they knew the horses wanted to return to the frontier just as much as they wanted to go for their first time. 

This incredible journey through the west has already begun, and you can follow their progress on a blog and Facebook page, updated regularly by the folks at Western Horseman. The riders carry a high quality camera with them and are taking phenomenal photographs of their trip. They are currently in Utah, recovering from a 42 mile, 3-day detour they had to make to recover some of their pack-horses (also mustangs) who spooked and ran for miles through high snow. 

When the riders and their horses finish their journey, a documentary about the experience will be released. Several cinematographers are following them and filming the trip... the forthcoming documentary will be called Unbranded.

I think that recovering the frontier narrative from the past is important. To feel that we are trapped in a completely discovered country - a country where all corners are mapped, developed, inhabited, and understood - precludes even the longing for adventure. The imagination, like the Mustang, must find new territory in which to roam if it believes there is no mystery left in the west... Our minds are branded by urbanity, chased away from the immense western region as if the strip malls stretched from sea to shining sea without ever being stopped by giant mountains, open plains, or great deserts. We make our stories in cities and forget that there is still so much wild here.

If we stop yearning for the chance to gaze deeply into the open landscape like the people in vintage photographs, the American West's mythic narrative will become a captive of those old photos, bound by grainy squares of nameless cowboys. It would be tragic to lose the sense that adventure and endless wilderness awaits us in our own backyard. To forget it would be to arrive, bewildered, at the vanishing point of our dreams.

***
What do you think about the "frontier experience"? Where is your frontier? What is the journey you must make through your homeland to connect to its mythic narrative? 

The Reason behind Risk

Bullriding is an incredible sport. 

Over the weekend, my husband and I watched the bull riding documentary, Rank (2006), and we were blown away. John Hyams masterfully constructed this 90 minute peek into a high-intensity sport by following the three top-contenders for the championship match of the national organization, Professional Bull Riders (PBR). The two-time champion Adriano Moraes (Brazilian-born) competes against Justin McBride and Jamie Lee for the million dollar first prize and a solid gold belt buckle (!!!) that declares them the champion bull rider of the United States.

This near-2000 pound bull is flying. 

Before watching this documentary, I didn't know much about the sport. But after watching it, an obsessive amount of article reading and youtube watching followed. Unlike the Bull fighting which originated in Spain, bull riding is a sport that involves almost no risk whatsoever for the bull, while the bull-rider assumes all of the (quite grave) risk.

In Spanish-style bullfighting, part of the sport is slowly killing the bull. In bull riding, the opposite is true and in fact the bulls are very well taken care of, especially if they are good buckers, because all the riders want a shot at trying to ride them. The harder and the stronger these bulls can buck, the more famous they become... the "rankest" bulls go down in cowboy history.

"Sir, kindly get off my back." 

The bull riders receive a score (on a scale of 100) only if they are able to remain on the bull's back for 8 seconds. If they cannot stay on for the full 8 seconds, they receive no points for the ride. Now, those 8 seconds seem like an eternity when you see the intense and athletic attempts of the bull trying to buck off his rider.

The bulls also receive a score for their performance (on a scale of 50). They are scored on how hard, how high, how unpredictably they can buck... these bulls are considered athletes that are competing just as hardily as the riders. Each year, a bull is named champion right alongside a rider.

That's a rank bull.

The question that immediately springs to the lips of all the sports' outsiders is, invariably: why on earth would you want to ride a 2000 pound bucking, goring, trampling machine?! The frustration inspired by the lack of a definitive answer for this question becomes abundantly clear when perusing the reviews for Rank. The most consistent reaction to this film was one of utter bewilderment-- reviewers desired to know the "purpose" of the sport or the "motivation" of its competitors and were unhappy with what they considered the filmmaker's lack of a definitive answer for these questions.

Bull riding exists because it is awesome. Any questions?

In the review published in the New York Times, the reviewer attempts to answer these questions for himself: "The lure of bull riding... has little to do with reason... experiencing the excitement of facing down physical danger is irresistible. We need our kicks." He concludes this after making a sweeping generalization about the kind of man who becomes a bull rider: "...it's easy to imagine that these men's rugged lives leave them little time for reflection." I find this answer to trivialize the entire sport and wiggle out of getting at a much more interesting possible answers.

By claiming there is neither "reason" nor "reflection" behind the decision to get on the back of a gargantuan animal and try to hold on to it with one hand for all of 8 seconds is to claim that these men (and a few women) do this sport because they are mindless and macho; it implies that they aren't creative enough to come up with any other way of getting an adrenaline rush (or "kicks," as the reviewer smugly calls it).

There's a reason behind the risk.

I believe that there is a communication between man and bull, man and himself, and man and other men that is very unique to this sport. The majority of the film is, in fact, the bull riders talking with their families and friends (grandparents, parents, wives, children, colleagues) about their decision to do this sport, the risk they assume in doing it, the mind-blowingly strong animals they work with, and the dreams they have for their future. The men come from all different places, even speak different languages, connected only through the sport and its unique philosophy.

Many of them talk about the moments of actual riding, the meditative state they must enter, and the instincts they must train and rely upon when reacting to the movements of the bull. As if they are alone in the huge arena, they focus on the balance of their bodies in relation to the bull, the shifts in direction and speed and duration of the bucking, and they almost become as wild as the furious animal beneath them.

Rob Smets, "rodeo clown" and guardian angel.

When the rider either dismounts or is thrown off the bull, there are other men in the ring (called "rodeo clowns' historically but now referred to as "bullfighters") waiting to run into the line of danger on behalf of the rider, so that he won't get trampled. This self-sacrificing risk-taking is not the mindless act of a hillbilly, but the noble act that recreates the way in which men would help one another out on cattle drives or while doing ranch work.

The risk that the rider and the rodeo clown take is an essential practice that keeps them (and I would argue the spectators of the sport) connected to a wilderness that is both within and without man. Nature commands respect and proves that it deserves to be respected without an intension of good or evil-- Nature runs its course and we are a part of that, sometimes riding atop and sometimes trampled underfoot.

Remaining connected to one's own mortality and the graceful power of the natural world is less about a simple adrenaline rush than it is about humanity's need to risk everything to learn the limits of... everything.

Taking the bull by the horns should never just be a figure of speech.

If there were no risk, there'd be no civilization. These men understand that and practice it as a way of life. This sport is not about the dominance of one animal over another, it is about mutual admiration and the unlikely (and yet completely natural) partnerships forged by men and beasts.

One of my life theories is that everything can be related back to the Quijote, and bull riding is no exception. Don Quijote faced incredible physical harm and constant risk of life and limb throughout the book- and yet, in spite of it, he was able to create the world he wanted to live in. There is a significant amount of reason behind taking risk, and the rewards for success are proportionate to the risk of failure.

We cannot lose sight of the benefit of risk-taking, of placing our lives into the hands of fate, and of doing it over and over again. Without these risks, we could lose all contact to the wilderness and wildness that shaped and continues to shape our lives.

***
"I am glad I will not be young in a future without wilderness." -Aldo Leopold
***

What do you think about the sport of bull riding? What are the risks that you've taken to get you where you are today?

Until next time, band of wild petticoat rufflers... ruffle those petticoats and ride those rank bulls!

Ranch Women

Today I watched a really great, short documentary on women of all ages who work and live on ranches (one woman owns a family ranch, another woman is the year-round ranch foreman, and the last "women" profiled are two little girls that work with their parents on the family ranch). It is a fascinating (29 minute) look at women who've always known that this was the work they loved and the life they wanted, no matter how difficult it can be. 

Women have historically been cut out of the cowhand work, with some exceptions. It seems, however, that there is no such exclusion today. The girl interested in ranch work can go out and do it... 

I have always considered myself a city girl, born along the Rust Belt in Milwaukee, a city that grew thanks to the industrial and manufacturing boom (and beer, of course). Since moving to Colorado, I have clung to deep longing for the city-- for vast human diversity in a densely populated urban center, complete with trips to the theater, the opera, the comedy club, the jazz club, the street festival, or the corner bar. 

But very recently I've realized that I was happy in Milwaukee because I accepted what it offered as all good things. If I wanted to do that here, I would need to find the good things. And it just so happens that the good things here are the lack of city. The enormous sky, the tall grass, the mud, the horses, the cattle dappling the foothills, the hidden towns, open air...

So I drove around today and took pictures of these good Colorado things... I took all of these photos in places that were no more than 10 minutes away from my apartment.... 

A girl could get used to this.

Grazing

Oh, hello

Leather boots, tall grass

The roads we travel

Enjoying the view

Western art

Horse ghost

In Eldorado Springs...

Prepared to enjoy all 4 seasons

From a tucked-away town

Old shed

"Neigh!"

"Did you bring the snacks?" 

<sniff>

So I guess the moral of this story is that the place I live is beautiful and I want to take it into my heart. I am looking into horseback riding lessons at a local farm here and will keep you updated on my progress!

***
Do you know any ranch women? Are you a ranch woman? Tell me the tales of your open skies! ...and as always, keep rustling!

Cowpuncher Poets

A cup of coffee and Richard Slatta's book Cowboys of the Americas (1990) means I'm fixin' to write about cowboys!

Howdy, Petticoat Rustlers and Wranglers! Today I spent a good deal of time in my reader's studio, pursuing some of the books I have on Cowboy mythology and history. In a post I did several months ago, I promised that I would do a series on cowboy literature and lore. To keep that promise, I have three posts coming up this weekend that will each investigate different aspects of the cowboy narrative from both the United States and Latin America. Today's topic - Cowboy Poets!

Typical Cowboys, American Heroes

Buffalo Bill Poster shows that cowboys are
not even phased by bucking
Mustangs between their legs.

The cowpunchers of the United States elicit a sense of nostalgic wonderment in many Americans. Through film, music, and mythology, the American cowboy has come to embody the spirit of perseverance, honor, and heroism.

Beginning in the early 1880s, the image of the American Cowboy developed into the chivalric hero we think of today; the triumph of independence, courage, and a deep connection with nature came to represent not only the Cowboy himself, but the core of American values. Buffalo Bill Cody's Wild West Show was instrumental in propelling the romanticized vision of the cowboy to a vast audience in both the United States and Europe. The image of the stoic, humble range rider - who possessed unimaginable skill - captivated audiences worldwide and eventually inspired dime novels, circus sideshows, radio, films, and television.

Much of the hardship of the range riding lifestyle was glossed over by whimsical notions of cowboy life. The poor pay and dangerous working conditions, the uncertainty of the future, and the rambling life of a man who followed cattle and spent many hours (sometimes many days) alone were renarrativized as a man living in harmony with nature and animals, and upon whom Nature bestowed bountiful gifts as a reward for his skill and tenacity.

The determined face of a cowboy who
knows he can harness (literally and
figuratively) the wildness of Nature.

The myth of the American cowboy has an incredible cultural significance, both historically and contemporarily. Richard Slatta describes its importance by tracing the development of the mythology through country-western music beginning in the 30s, the cowboy films of the 50s and 60s, Ronald Reagan's cowboy personae in the 80s, and so on. He says that "...cowboy culture is a constant factor in American life. Many Americans still believe in the efficacy of what they define as the frontier experience. ... The cowboy is one of the most potent shorthand cultural symbols in America."

At the end of this chapter on the "fictional" myth developed about the American cowboy, Slatta remarks on what he considers to be the "real" cowboys of today, saying: "...some of today's working cowboys object to the romanticized, commercialized distortions of the cowboy imagery. Cowhands are reviving traditional skills, such as making tack and... singers have kept traditional cowboy music alive."

I find these remarks ironic, as Richard Slatta reveals himself to be given to the same romanticized "distortions" he claims to be able to see through - he simply establishes his preference for cowboys who reject the "mythology" in favor of the "real" story of a cowhand. He solidifies his preference for contemporary cowboys over the "commercialized" ones of the 30s-80s by failing to mention any working cowboys who embrace the mythological vision of their lives.

So, is it possible to interpret the cowboy without being swayed by a deeply internalized cultural understanding of the American cowboy? And what about cowboys themselves? Do they adopt a romanticized vision of their own lives? Have they contributed to the literature written about them? Indeed, they have.

From left to right: Slim Kite, Wally McRae, and Waddie Mitchell. Legendary cowboy poets. 

Recently, I came across a wonderful documentary on cowboy poets. The documentary followed three generations of (unrelated) men who worked in different capacities as cowboys in the American southwest and who all composed poetry about their life, their work, their fellow cowboys, questions of mortality and eternity, and the uniquely mortal and eternal lives of cowboys.

The documentary is called Cowboy Poets (1988) and is made available thanks to Folkstreams.net, a website that serves as "National Preserve of Documentary Films about American Roots Cultures." (If you have not yet pursued this site, I highly recommend it!) It is a fascinating look at three different interpretations of the cowboy life, all from men who identify as cowboys and write/recite original and traditional cowboy poetry.

Cover for Waddie Mitchell's CD of recited poems

Each one of these men were born into very different circumstances- Slim Kite was born around the turn of the century and worked as a cowboy in the 20s, until he couldn't make a living doing it anymore and had to settle down on a ranch of his own (which he considered the end of his cowboying). The youngest cowboy poet in the documentary, Waddie Mitchell, works as a hired cowhand but dreams of being able to have his own ranch someday (what he would consider the beginning of his cowboy career). Wally McRae works as a cowboy alongside new coal mines, gazing with ambivalence at the progress of the world around him and continuing to recite poems that extol the open, untouched, virgin plains.

The three interpretations suggest a unification of both the realities of American cowboy life over the last century and the truth of the mythologies it inspired. It also seems to answer the question I posed above: the mythology and the reality of cowboy life has become inextricably intertwined. Furthermore, there is an interplay of presence and absence inherent in the American cowboy that seems to mystify even the men who have done the job, who have spent days covered in blood and manure, and who have laid on their backs, looked at the stars, and composed verse about their memories.

I think the most vivid example of this interplay coincides with the most poignant moment of the Cowboy Poets documentary. The filmmakers ask Slim Kite if there is any advice he can offer them, after leading a fully cowboy life. After joking that he'd offer advice they wouldn't want to take, he suddenly becomes very solemn, and recites a traditional cowboy poem  called "The Last Longhorn" that has been passed down to generations of cowboys since the 20s. Kite changes slightly the last stanza and recites it like this:

The cowboy rose up sadly n' mounted his cayuse, 
saying "The time has come when cowboys and longhorns are no use!" 
He rode off, a-gazing backward upon the dead bovine 
His bronco stepped in a foghole, fell down and broke his spine

Now you'll miss 'im at the round up,
It's gone - his merry shout...
The cowboy's left the country 
and the campfire's gone out. 

As he recites this poem about the death of the Cowboy, Slim Kite's eyes indeed fill with tears. He at once represents a mythical figure of the Cowboy in the poem and at the same time he is inescapably the very real old man who worked as a cowboy all his life. The original author of this poem is unknown, adding to its mythic and almost inherent quality, as if every American Cowboy that ever existed has thought these verse and considered himself to be living the last days of the true cowboy life.

***
What are your favorite cowboy poems? What do you think about the American Cowboy mythology versus reality? I'd love to hear your thoughts on this post and the documentary (it is only 50 minutes and well worth every second of your time!)

Until next time - keep ruffling your petticoats!

"Anágua" is Portuguese for Petticoat

Dearest wild petticoat rustlers! I have much good news to share! There has been a lot happening recently; some very exciting new literary horizons are coming into view. For instance, I graduated from my Masters program and was accepted to the phD program...YAY!

My husband and I in front of the Spanish and Portuguese building on commencement day. 

My wonderful parents came up from Arizona to see the graduation and celebrate with us! 

Isn't my building such a beautiful place?! So academic-y. 

My dog got his Master's in Cutenessology.

In my application to the phD program, I proposed to study Brazilian oral narrative of the sertão region (a large region that spans from the northeastern to the southeastern corner of the country). I will have to work this summer to define more precisely what stories I will be studying, so I have been catching up on a lot of great lusophone literature! I am searching high and low for any stories cowboy-related... let me know if you've read any Brazilian cowboy novels, poems or short stories!

Not too long ago, I discovered the work of Luís Fabini, an Uruguayan photographer living and working with cowboy communities all over the Americas. The photographs he took of the pantaneiros or vaqueiros (as cowboys are known in Brazil) are really inspiring me. Here are a couple of my favorites:

In addition to studying cowboys, for many years I've been reading and researching the hybrid poetic tradition known as literatura de cordel (I did a whole post on this poetic tradition!). I am hoping to incorporate this poetry into my thesis as well-- I'll keep you posted!

And that brings me to some really exciting news... I'm going to Brazil! In order to kickstart my research and gather hard-to-find Brazilian books, I will be attending two conferences this summer in the Brazilian state of Maranhão. I will be there towards the end of June, during a traditional folk festival called "Bumba meu boi." This is an all-night festival that includes elaborate costumes and rhythmic music, played collectively by the entire community.

Through the middle of the streets, a mythological story is enacted, involving a bull (boi) who is killed and then later resurrected.

This folk tradition has been around since the 18th century, taking place every year during the junina festival, which celebrates the nativity of Saint John the Baptist.

Check out this video to get an idea of what it is going to be like! (The first 30 seconds of the video is just talking, but then it starts to show the festival.) I am so excited to be able to witness this first hand!

***
I hope that all of you have some good new reading material for summer, too! What's on your shelf? Any poetry? Any cowboy stories? As always, keep rustling!