I am pretty sure I said never....
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| Sorting with Paul in the 4th of July 2012 Sortapalooza Jackpot - on the one and only Jake |
On the last day of a four day Paul Dietz clinic and a marathon 18-day Big Bear visit by the Dietzes (Paul, Christine, Gene and little Miss Davina) and the talented Megan Palmer, Paul had the cow working class split. People were working in pairs with a single cow between them, working on their turns that they practiced in horsemanship.
As the rest of the class waited, Paul announced that the handful of ropes laying near the sorting pens were open for people who wanted to mess around with them.
OK. I thought. But maybe just to get Drifter good with a rope because he can be a little shy about that stuff still.
So I rode into the West sorting pen and grabbed a coil of rope. And Drifter shied sideways in protest. I slowly worked at rubbing his coat with the rope, dragging it along the dirt around his feet before he allowed me to gather the coils. I halfheartedly tossed out a short section of coils and Drifter recoiled on his hind end to escape out the other side. I rubbed him with one hand full of rope and reins, while my right hand busily gathered the coils back up. I tried again, with less resistance. Bring in a cow.
Man, was this a clumsy attempt, but my ego sat patiently outside the round pen while I tossed coil after coil. Gene Dietz, Paul's dad, reminded me I was damn near holding my rope by the honda, so I worked the rope through the honda and slid the honda closer to the ground. I began to swing the rope again and marveled at the big loop I had made, while Drifter's ears hung sideways in humiliation at the noob on his back (perhaps it wasn't roping he was fearful of...it was ME roping). I tossed out the rope and caught one.
Clearly the shock on my face was missed by none, as a resounding "Dally! Dally!" was shouted from outside the pen. I raised my rope-and-rein-carrying left hand, wrapped the rope around the mulehide-wrapped horn and backed Drifter (not very straight - bad) until the breakaway honda popped free.
"YEEHAAAAWWWW!" I screamed. "It's better than fishing!"
My only comparison is fishing with my dad when I was younger. I remember a day at Canyon Lake. That was a good day, but I was more interested in getting a suntan than I was pulling a fish out of its habitat, ripping a hook out of its mouth and deciding whether or not to keep it. My choice was always to toss it back...and if i remember correctly, my dear old dad did toss them back that day. I am sure my mom was expecting a fish fry that night, but back then she was unaware that her daughter was a vegetarian in carnivore suit.
So maybe it's not better than fishing. It's different, but it's fun, and I am pretty sure I said I'd never do it.
Since then, I've caught one other cow...at Paul's clinic in Norco. The other 73 or so tosses were always misses, but I've not practiced at all. I have no form, but I can learn.
Looking forward to Paul coming to Big Bear in July 2013. There's room at the inn if anyone wants to come.
