Art of the Cowgirl

The view from my side of the fence was something special.

The women who competed or sold horses at the seventh annual Art of the Cowgirl this past February definitely had the best seat in the house. It’s pretty tough to beat the experience of riding, roping, showing or selling a good horse in the Arizona winter sunshine — especially when the alternative was chopping ice and pitching hay back home.

But riding the bleachers was phenomenal as well. Taking in the talent, from horsemanship to gear making, fine arts, music and more, was a treat. Here are a few of my observations from the spectator side of the fence.

Location, location, location

George Strait once sang about oceanfront property in Arizona, and I’m here to attest that the most desirable piece of real estate at AOTC was indeed filled with sand. But I’m not talking about one of the immaculately groomed arenas — the place to be for the 5-and-under crowd was the Cowkid Corral, aka “The Sand Pit.” A round pen was set up as a giant playpen filled with deep sand. It was stocked with trailers, trucks and livestock of various species, all handmade by The Happy Toy Maker.

The vibe was “BYOSAOB” (bring your own shovel and/or bucket). Ever-changing mountains and valleys decorated the landscape. Some children (including my youngest) brought cap guns, causing kids to duck for cover while loading rogue bulls into open-top trailers. It’s just another day of cowboyin’, really.

Don’t make rash decisions

My husband started growing his winter beard in October. We rolled into late February in Arizona just in time for a heat wave that had him looking at the barber’s chair with a gaze just short of lust. He would’ve had to take a number and wait in line, though, because there were quite a few other hairy-faced guys wearing felt cowboy hats and looking uncomfortable.

He ultimately chose to abstain from shaving and was very happy with his decision when we returned home to a late-season snowstorm. Moral of the story: It’s better to sweat for a day than freeze for a week, especially if you work outside and your chin gets cold easily.

Some horses don’t buck

Sometimes, all the horses are gentle and ride around really nice, and that’s okay. My 9-year-old son was hoping to see some ranch bronc riding during AOTC. I told him it wasn’t an official event on the schedule, but we could watch the branding contest and hope for a rimfire.

I’m happy to report that all the ladies brought solid rope horses to town, and nobody’s mount broke in two. The cowboys at every small-town ranch rodeo across America should take notes — I’ve seen more bronc rides during the calf roping event at the Jordan Valley Big Loop that were more impressive than some of the bucking stock loaded into the chutes at the other end of the arena.

Always carry a rope in your hand

You never know when you’ll want to rope the inside foot of your mom, brother, sister, random passerby or stray dog. The only way to throw good loops is to throw a bunch of bad ones first. The secret is to never quit roping, even when the top strand comes in so fast it whacks your mom’s shin bone, and she yelps in pain and surprise. If you’re going to be a cowgirl (or boy), you gotta be tough.

Also, Mom knows that roping is a team sport, and she’ll get her turn on the other end of the rope at some point.

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