Are You a Cowboy?


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Juan Maderita

Trad climber
"OBcean" San Diego, CA
Oct 11, 2012 - 03:15am PT

A climber-cowboy in Baja. Beckey riding "Tajo" a frisky 4-year old at ...
A climber-cowboy in Baja. Beckey riding "Tajo" a frisky 4-year old at base camp.
Credit: Juan Maderita

Social climber
Oct 11, 2012 - 08:30am PT
hey there say, jan...

wow, loved your 'cowboy type history'... just resaw all this, from a bump...

my twin buddies will enjoy it, :)

they like living the cowboy way, :)
they got a ranch, and do all their own work, raise appaloosas, and some cows... well, and
little furry critters on the side--meaning their dogs and cats, :))

i enjoy helping, when i can--but that was a long time, back,

Social climber
Oct 11, 2012 - 08:31am PT
hey there say, juan...

wow, three cheers to becky... she (oops, he) looks like one fine happy gal (guy), there, :)

god bless...

THANKS, SKULLY, ooops, well, it SAID 'becky'... ;)

(has the same shape face as my ex mom in law) :O

humans can be hard recognize at times, :)

thanks again skully... wow, the things we learn here
at the ol' taco, :)

Captain...or Skully

Oct 11, 2012 - 08:39am PT
Uh, Neebee, that's Fred Beckey.


Social climber
Wolf City, Wyoming
Oct 11, 2012 - 08:43am PT
Bob can fistjam, Bad Ass Moma

Not even a kings rope or dekalb hat, broke?

Oct 11, 2012 - 09:51am PT
An old cowboy went to a bar and ordered a drink. As he sat sipping his whiskey, a young lady sat down next to him. She turned to the cowboy and asked, "Are you a real cowboy?"

He replied, "Well, I've spent my whole life on the ranch, herding horses, mending fences, and branding cattle, so I guess I am."

She said, "I'm a lesbian. I spend my whole day thinking about women. As soon as I get up in the morning, I think about women. When I shower, I think about women. As I watch TV, or even eat, I think about women. Everything seems to make me think about women."

The two sat sipping in silence. A short time later, a man sat down on the other side of the old cowboy and asked, "Are you a real cowboy?"

He replied, "I always thought I was, but I just found out that I'm a lesbian."

Trad climber
Douglas, WY
Oct 11, 2012 - 11:07am PT

Those of us who actually live here and own places all joke: what's the commonality between cowboy hats and hemorrhoids? Answer; sooner or later, every a$$hole gets one...

Trad climber
Cali Hodad, surfing the galactic plane
Oct 11, 2012 - 11:14am PT
I find this thread very stimulating, and it has brought forth a few questions;

Question #1: Can Cowboys be Savages? Or are they incompatible, an oxymoron and are either a)Cowboys, or b) Savages?

Question #2: If a Lesbian dated a cowboy would she ride bareback or side saddle, or would neither one no longer apply?
Big Breasted Woman

Trad climber
The Brown Crack
Oct 11, 2012 - 11:26am PT
Yup, I was a wrangler for 2 years on a ranch in Moose, WY. I was a climber too. Guess I didn't look much like a climber 'cuz no one threw any beer cans at me!!

Trad climber
Cali Hodad, surfing the galactic plane
Oct 11, 2012 - 06:59pm PT
Question #3: If John Travolta claimed "I m a Lesbian!" Would his masseuse/masseur be a cowgirl or a cowboy?

Cuz, like Vinney said...

edit: BTW, in case ya fergot JT is "The Urban Cowboy"!

climber's near nevada...
Oct 11, 2012 - 07:03pm PT
all hat, no cattle...but i do keep getting up every single time, no matter how hard that just was...i sorta think that's cowboy...

Trad climber
greater Boss Angeles area
Oct 11, 2012 - 07:20pm PT


The Hot Kiss on the end of a Wet Fist
Oct 11, 2012 - 08:39pm PT
Speaking of Wyoming Cowboys, whatever became of Chris Nelson??

Ice climber
the ghost
Oct 11, 2012 - 09:46pm PT
Are you saying cowboys don't understand simple logic???

cowboys: falling asleep with your boots on will give you a headache the next morning.

Social climber
Eastside (of the Tetons)
Oct 11, 2012 - 10:19pm PT
Uhm, being a Wrangler IS NOT the same. You don't work with cows, so you are not a cowgirl/boy.

I HATE it when clueless guys call me a cowgirl. Never worked with cattle much. A little.

However, 30 years with horses does make me a horse woman.

Oh, I've also been a wrangler, and that pretty much means wrangling the dudes, not necessarily the stock.

I would love to be able to say I'm a Cowgirl, but I never earned it.
Gotta be able to stick your arm up a cows ass for that! lol

Trad climber
Santa Cruz/New Zealand/South Pacific
Topic Author's Reply - Oct 11, 2012 - 11:11pm PT
Hossjulia-thanks for educating we dumb city folks, who have a hard time differentiating port from starboard or cowgirl from wrangler.

Trad climber
Cali Hodad, surfing the galactic plane
Oct 12, 2012 - 01:04am PT
capt'n guido - who have a hard time differentiating port from starboard and cowgirl from wrangler.
JT aint no city slicker. He can rope, ride, punch and ride line &#40;f...
JT aint no city slicker. He can rope, ride, punch and ride line (fence line) dawn till dusk, etc on his Montana spread! Whatever he does, he gives it 100% ...respect!
Credit: splitter

Big Wall climber
Terrapin Station
Oct 12, 2012 - 05:52am PT
Thanks Splitter!
I just now saw your comment about the horse.

Yes, she's a beauty and a real piece of work. She respects me, but not much else. A big curious dog, always trying to be in the middle of whatever is going on. Whenever I'm working in the pasture, on the pond, on digging/pounding/chopping, I can rest assured that soon there will be a large black nose looking over my shoulder.....

Credit: survival

Dec 20, 2012 - 02:36am PT
Reading some of the posts in this thread got me thinking of my father who was not a cowboy but rather a jockey. Born in 1907 in Kentucky he was apprenticed out at age 13 to the JKL Ross stables in Toronto. He had no interest in being a jockey but his family had too many mouths to feed and he was was 5 feet tall when fully grown. He cried all night on the train To Canada. He was a taciturn man when I came to know him and rarely spoke of himself so these matters were related to me by my mother. He rode on tracks all over North America and Canada. As a teenager I was disdainful of him for a variety of reasons not least simple youthful vanity and misplaced self-regard. I recall him performing some remarkable athletic feats that seemed to have no relation to his normal rather somnolent state. I remember him and my uncle, also a small man of about 5 feet and a bit, drinking beer and laughingly comparing their biceps which to my astonishment bulged like demented grapefruit with multiple deep indentations and dimples and snake-like veins. Wherefrom these arms came I had no idea and never saw their like until I met David George Cook who had similar biceps and a remarkable ability to destroy people in arm-wrestling while all the while looking amused and dismissive. Of course for my father it had to have been the iron discipline of racing horses and living a life of hard work and self-denial that most jockeys of that day and age had to endure that gave him the powerful arms and body. His was not the life of the cowboy though both occupations have the horse at the centre. A different ethos occupies the cowboy and the jockey though for a while in the thirties my father had a SAG card and was an extra in Hollywood films when lots of wild "redskins" were called for in cowboy films; then he put on a loin-cloth and red paint and rode over the sagebrush in emulation of the noble savage. It seems the work resulted in many serious injuries to horses and riders too. His relationship to horses was not something I was ever to know other than that he knew them well and had been taught that they must be treated with the greatest care and respect. I don't know for a fact that he never sat by a campfire with his horse hobbled nearby but some how it seems very unlikely. The horses he rode were incredibly valuable princelings who often lived better than most humans, and for him and the horses the vast skies of the plains were replaced by the thunder of the straining men and horses galloping flank to flank and the screaming crowds.

Mountain climber
Okinawa, Japan
Dec 20, 2012 - 08:09am PT
I just found this small photo of my grandfather taken in Colorado in the early 1920's. He grew up in Texas and is wearing a typical Texas cowboy hat before the stetson came into style. It was adopted by the Texans from the earliest cowboys in America - the Mexican vaqueros.

Clell Baker
Clell Baker
Credit: Jan

This is the guy who used to catch and break wild mustangs for extra spending money. The ones he couldn't break he sold to rodeos. One of his, Old Brown Joe, bucked all the way back to Madison Square Garden. That horse never was ridden with a saddle but the children could ride him bareback no problem.
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