I have an ongoing love affair with the west – whether its western Canada or the western US, I romanticize that part of the world when I describe it to those who have never been.
When I was telling friends I was heading to Colorado, to cowboy country, many made jokes about me bringing a cowboy home. I didn’t bring home a cowboy but I did bring back a taste of the life. I was inspired by four people I met who had embraced the love of the west with a fervour of someone who had been born, bred and never left cowboy country.
I met two couples, who were quick to say hello when I arrived at Bar Lazy J Ranch. They were from back east, and had met at the ranch on holiday four years previous. After becoming fast friends, they decided to make it an annual ritual to meet up at the same time each year at the ranch.
With their friendship grew their love of western culture in all its forms. So despite being eastern city slickers for most of the year, the foursome sported truly western duds when hanging around the lodge as well as for when they went out on rides and spoke like locals.
As they were experienced riders, I never shared the trail with them, but they were always offering up advice and many stories of their experiences on the ranch and with other guests. Their storytelling sang the praises of every moment spent on horseback in the rolling hills of the ranch and its surrounding acreage, a few hours west of Denver.
But what made these four cowpokes even more fun – each one had adopted a nickname during their time at the ranch – their eastern personas left behind as soon as set foot on Colorado soil. Doc was a tall lanky guy who said very little, but when he did, it means a lot. His wife, Cowgirl Cathy, was very chatty, happy to share stories and offer up advice on everything from riding technique, clothing or man issues to a female novice like myself.
Their friends Marshall (who wore a sheriff’s badge) and his wife Kalamity, had fallen in love with each other as much as the west. They wore elegantly embroidered and detailed western shirts, custom-made chaps, and even western-influenced jewellery. As a celebration of their love of Bar Lazy J Ranch, the twosome had their boots and hats branded during the previous year’s holiday.
Although some city slickers would initially think them strange, delusional or at minimumm odd, I thought it was wonderful and inspiring these four had found each other through their love of all things cowboy. Western culture had captured these four and they revelled in being able to indulge in their passion for two weeks out of the year.
Although I had grown up in cattle country of western Canada, I had a lot to learn about being a cowgirl. I needed to speak less and more briefly. I needed to outfit myself with more denim, leather and consider embroidered western plaid shirts for my wardrobe. And I definitely needed more time in the saddle, wandering the high plains with my trusty steed.
On my last day at Bar Lazy J, I went into the little mercantile shed by the corral and looked through the cowboy paraphernalia for sale – belts, boots, and hats. I decided the most practical option for me was to chose a straw cowboy hat. It made me happy from the minute I put it on. Not too heavy, not too light and definitely a cowboy hat. I proudly wore it for the next few days, including back on the plane and into the big city of Toronto.
A few days ago I wore it in my building while doing some in-building errands and fellow neighbours complimented me on the cowboy hat. So although I don’t live in the west, I’ve got a little piece of cowboy culture with me, to wear whenever I want to be remember what its like to be a cowgirl in the wild wild west.