Global Sojourns Photography
Photography & Philosophy
The Stoic Cowboy of Pendleton
Posted on August 17, 2023
Her eyes follow, reflecting a certain admiration and curiosity with his every move.
“Sigh…” she looks back at me with a smile that holds a hint of disappointment… “Damn, these Pendleton cowboys are something. Now I understand why you live so far away from your hometown,” her laughter building. “Not easy living up to Old West versions of Captain America…”
My mind wants to reply, but there’s no rebuttal. On my left, a stylish cowgirl walks by, and the melody of Ian Munsick & Cody Johnson’s song Long Live Cowgirls kicks in. I nod with appreciation and finish the remainder of my whiskey.
“Where Have All the Cowboys Gone… Do you remember that song?” She asks, looking through my photos, mesmerized by the artistry she witnessed in the arena yesterday. Her finger traces the line of the horse and cowboy fluidly, in one motion, as if they were riding in front of us.
She’s tripping back in time, more than a hundred years ago, when cowboys, buckaroos, and wranglers plied their trade. I notice her flush as she falls deeper into the myth of the stoic cowboy… an icon of the past and part of the fabric of the American West.
Little has changed in terms of their rugged image, and while the number of cowboys has dropped over the past 100 years, the spirit and cowboy logic they are known for has fortunately spread.
“You keep referring to the stoic cowboy. What exactly is meant by this?” she asks.
“Well, cowboys focus on things they can control… and don’t waste time on things they can’t. Therefore, they seldom panic. They keep their emotions in check and have confidence in living the best life possible.” I sit, satisfied with my explanation.
“Not bad,” she says. “Stoics concentrate on four main virtues, as do cowboys:
Wisdom: to understand the right thing to do
https://dailystoic.com/4-stoic-virtues/
Courage: to act on doing the right thing
Temperance: to have self-control in action
Justice: to be honest and caring with others
Wisdom is gained by experience. Take action and move on. Cowboys don’t waste time, especially talking… unless tequila, whiskey, or beer is involved.
“If there’s one trait to admire, it’s courage. Rooted in confidence gained by experience, courage is the ability to be wise and compassionate.”
“You shared something similar in an earlier post on West Lake.” She pauses, finds my old post, and continues. “From compassion comes the courage to know and do the right thing. From self-discipline comes generosity – calmness in action. And from humility comes leadership, borne through honesty…” Spoken as if she was the one who taught me the philosophy of the Dao.
“Cowboy logic, yes?”
“Do you consider yourself a stoic cowboy?” She asks, and at first, I think there will be a sharp comment to follow, but I can see this is a serious question to her.
“You are stoic in many ways, but you wear your heart on your sleeve and get caught up in the moment more than most. This sure isn’t the virtue of temperance as with cowboys and stoics…”
Yep, self-control and discipline. Whereas a more stoic person may walk away and live for tomorrow… I often, unfortunately, wake up with something more than just a hangover.
“Let’s just say I’m a work in progress…,” I answer.
I look at the photos of steer wrestlers and agree with some of what she says. The stereotypical view of a stoic, emotionless cowboy has its flaws. Stoics are optimists, and by nature, so is the American Cowboy… why take the risks of raising cattle, moving them on a trail ride, and suffering all that comes their way?
“One of the characteristics I have is being an optimist. And the cowboys of this world are optimists – always taking a confident gamble.” I add, thinking of all the ‘cowboys’ I admire in various careers.
“Take the farmers and ranchers who believe in next year’s crop. The rodeo cowboys who believe in their next ride. And all of us who believe in the illusion of a perfect life so we can enjoy the mistakes made along the way.”
We enjoy life when times are good, buckle down, and work hard when life throws turmoil our way ~ as it always does. Pick up the pieces and move forward.
“Let me guess your next choice of words,” she rolls her eyes. “Cowboy logic.”
It’s late, and as I drift off to dream, the cool night air mixes with my thoughts of the Pendleton cowboy: a balance between stoic and existential philosophy. Stoics use logic to make a better life; existentialists use courage to create a better life. Action, not words, is at the heart of these philosophies.
Take action and recognize the authenticity of beauty that comes with a well-lived life. With this, I dream of catching the sunrise in the wheat fields of Pendleton tomorrow.
Morning comes easy. The crisp pre-dawn breeze feels good hiking through the fields. With a quick climb up a small water tower on the outskirts of town, we lean back and enjoy the scene.
Below, the golden wheat ready for harvest sways in the light breeze. The purple sky and golden hues of the morning sun fill up the space. Life is good.
The cowboy spirit focuses on the true nature of the moment. There is never the need to attempt to control the noise of life. Control what we can, and don’t worry about the rest.
With the sun breaking over the fields, she tosses me her half-eaten apple and asks, “Do you remember when you first went to China? You lost your keys and had to go to the security bureau to get them back?”
The memory comes flashing back, a surreal experience. The expectation was that I’d have to bribe the head of security, either slip them money or a pack of cigarettes, and my keys would reappear. However, I talked with the guard for an hour instead of bribing him.
“Ah, I remember that well.” I smile and look into her eyes.
“Your friends thought it was hilarious when you didn’t bribe the guard, relentlessly chiding you afterward, saying you’d never make it in business because you’re too honest and naive.” She looks to see my reaction.
“They were unhappy about waiting for an hour. They were not impressed even after I exclaimed that I got my keys back without a bribe and an invitation to grab a beer.”
A moment that stands out sharply in my early years in China. “Their minds were set – honesty clashed with the cutthroat business culture in China…” Her eyes reflect the moment when Gao Ling, a quiet and brilliant woman, took me aside later that night and introduced Daoism to my cowboy logic.
“Be true to yourself, and you’ll find others who think the same way.” I smile at the memory, “…and it proved true in China.”
I could be home, sitting on top of a water tower in Pendleton or the other side of the world in China or Czechia, and it wouldn’t matter. My world stays centered as long as I stay centered.
“Take it slow, keep it simple…” I wink and laugh at my well-used mantra. “Find good people to work with. It makes for a simple life.”
“You use the term ‘simple’ a lot,” she shakes her head. “Authentic… this is a better word. Cowboys choose to live an authentic life… not a simple one. Life is not simple.” And she leans forward to watch the sun clear the wheat fields.
This makes sense. Life is not meant to be easy. It takes work and effort. “I agree with you. A cowboy sets an example by living an authentic life…”
“Hmmm,” she ponders this. “It is difficult to bring people to goodness with lessons, but it is easy to do so by example.”
“Wow, that’s deep… well done, especially so early in the morning.” I glance at her in mock surprise. “You just make that up?”
“It’s Seneca, you fool.” She laughs. “You need to read more.”
The next few days are a blur of happiness. Time at home with my parents. Rediscovering my hometown with friends and family. A feeling of belonging.
“There’s something about small-town charm. It doesn’t fit in with the global scene.” At first, I want to say it catches people off guard, this authentic lifestyle of small-town culture.
She wistfully looks around. “Maybe because people from larger cities are more attuned to the ruthless lifestyle of those places, they don’t know how to relate to small-town life.”
“Until they come to such a place…”
Spend time around Pendleton, drop all pretenses, and a new world opens up. Long ago, I heard a saying that still makes me smile. “When meeting people, small town folks say: everyone brings joy… some when they enter and others when they leave.”
I pack up my bags, ready to return to Seattle and eventually back to Czechia – stepping into another world. Par for my life the past couple of decades.
My muse? She checked out a little while ago. One thing all the stories and myths do get right: a stoic cowboy needs time alone. Everyone does.
The great stoic Seneca once said: “Nothing, to my way of thinking, is a better proof of a well-ordered mind than a man’s ability to stop just where he is and pass some time in his own company.”
And such moments are times like this. A beautiful day to sit back and find the wisdom to see where my next step will take me.
I love to reflect on the life of the Old West and the idea of the Pendleton buckaroo I’ve held since I was young. In this modern, technological world, where my work and life are as far removed from the saddle as possible, one thing that remains a constant is the link to the cowboy way of thinking.
My visit to my hometown was full of nostalgia; it felt good to ponder the question of where the small-town culture of the American West is moving.
Perhaps the sole reason for coming here was to draw out my soul and reconcile my views of the world with my youthful dreams. The answer… part nostalgia, but mainly recommitting to the frame of mind of the cowboy. An existential stoic.
I understand my life is not the lifestyle of the buckaroo I dreamt of as a kid. Self-reflection has made me realize what I feel proud of is every friend I know has an appreciation of the people and community around them, no matter the circumstances.
Growing up in Pendleton, I recognize the difference between abundance and ruin for many depends upon a few inches of rain or a few degrees in temperature. Always walking on the razor’s edge, season after season. Without a stoic outlook, you’d go crazy with stress.
Cowboy culture is not going away. Through all changes of time, buckaroos still ride and always will. The thrill of the ride… isn’t that what life is all about?
Let’er Buck!
Many great men in history studied and practiced stoicism. A few: Marcus Aurelius, Montaigne, George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, Thomas Jefferson, John Stuart Mill, Theodore Roosevelt… and the many cowboys we meet daily in our lives.
Let’er Buck: Riding With the Women of Summer
Posted on May 31, 2023
The beautiful blur of grace and speed. A simple photo can’t quite capture the rhythm and flight of imagination these women arouse when they ride. Still, watching them, it is impossible not to feel the electricity, the connection of the dance between the rider and her horse.
A dream to catch, and here begins the pursuit of the Women of Summer.
Wandering around horses and riders, I trade stories and listen respectfully on their day of competition. With poise and a sense of community, I’ve come to understand one thing: in life, these incredible cowgirls utilize their confidence to pursue dreams, and with such a spirit comes admiration of those secure enough to understand embracing a woman’s power moves us to a higher level.
It is a breathtaking sight. And while photos may not do justice to the electricity such women create, it is easy to dream of their rhythm and flight of imagination, which spur me into tomorrow.
Growing up with three strong-willed sisters who love horses, I began to understand one consistent trait of young cowgirls that shone above all others: to be free. Flying high without concern of falling, riding without fear, and doing so with their hair on fire…
The world needs such dynamic women at every level: as leaders in politics, business, medicine, and teaching. Their spirit encourages. We are lifted being around such strong women, savoring their boldness and grace.
It stuns me to think there are still barriers to what women can achieve due to discrimination based on gender. The main reason I find it hard to believe is not that I think discrimination is wrong (I do, for the record… no matter what my sisters say) but because it is crazy for men to sabotage themselves and their communities.
Decades ago, I read a piece by John Stuart Mill, The Subjection of Women, published in 1869 when women were seen as the property of men.
“Equality is critical for solving the world’s problems… the loss to the world by refusing to make use of one-half of the whole quantity of talent it possesses is extremely serious.”
– John Stuart Mill, The Subjection of Women, in 1869
Almost everyone I know today understands and believes in the words of J.S. Mill. It is logical, yet… with the fragile ego of many men, who would rather cut off one’s nose to spite one’s face and go on waging war, they continue to live in a warped fantasy. Ridiculous.
Years ago, I wrote about how acknowledging someone’s ability does not diminish your own. Instead, the confidence in breaking male-dominant beliefs is a sign of strength, and nothing is more attractive than the authenticity of doing the right thing without a second thought.
It is just common sense. The world needs all the leadership and great ideas it can get.
A secure woman and a secure man who understands the untapped qualities of the human spirit can create brilliance and unlock the heart of potential for all.
An example of this is the heartland of the United States, built by the frontiersmen and women who were insightful enough to understand that equality was the only way to survive in the West. By embracing the power and skill of each other, they could thrive.
They did this without question, without fear. Through action instead of rhetoric, they taught their children. As a result, these kids grew up as balanced individuals who created something even more remarkable: a self-feeding cycle of success. Small farming towns across the globe share this same thread of equality, and this is the hope for the world.
I think back to some of my travels overseas to stagnant, repressive societies. Places empty at the core, with male-driven egos paralyzing society by allowing great minds to waste away along with their children’s future.
This is not the way to evolve and better ourselves. Take away the façade of power, especially in business and politics, and there is the natural progression of equality. This is what I now see taking place globally.
Around the world, women have built respect throughout history as the vital key to the success of men.
It is how the “West Was Won” – men and women working as one, united. No room for ego or the subjection of another due to feelings of inadequacy.
In my hometown of Pendleton, behind every successful rancher, farmer, and cowboy ~ there is a woman who has made him the man he is today.
The sense of equality. The quality of two beings, untapped potential when repressed, transforms into a powerful, uniting force when free. This attitude built the world – it is the definition of freedom.
This spirit. This drive. This focus. It forms the backbone of America… the melting pot of brave people and immigrants with a dream. Brave souls, dancing with the devil, entering a new world – their strength: having each other’s back, knowing they can only better their world together.
Growing up, I always imagined that women had courage beyond imagination – to help, to teach, and, most beautiful of all – to have a continuous curiosity to improve the lives of those around them.
It is this curiosity to seek and be better I admire. To borrow from Thomas Hobbes: “Curiosity is the lust of the mind.” It should drive us all.
During the morning of the competition, there were many opportunities to talk with the riders. The conversations were easy and free-flowing. When asked about their life growing up with horses, I’ve never seen eyes light up so quickly.
“When I’m on a horse, there is no question of man or woman… there is only the rider. And when gliding across the arena, heart racing to the cadence of hooves, it’s more magnificent than any thunderstorm ~ and then the goosebumps arrive. In blissful sync with my horse, the sense of reality is lost, and I become a free spirit; nothing can stop me.”
The quiet confidence of a Woman of the West never ceases to impress and humble me. It is a supreme confidence. I noted a quote on one of the rider’s bags by Anaïs Nin, “Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one’s courage.”
Even today, I can see her smile at the recognition of this quote. A perfect reminder to be courageous every day. Never stop learning, never stop thinking or asking questions. Continue to wonder… always wonder, and feed your curiosity…
Sitting here, I realize every day, women around the world saddle up and give it another go… pushing the envelope just a little more until their dream becomes our reality.
I think of the great women I’ve met in my travels, all so different in their dreams and occupations – yet they ride off, in the same manner, to conquer whatever is on their minds. They do so with a smile that reminds me of an old Western saying, “She’s got a smile that could charm the rattles off a rattlesnake….” It is fitting.
Their rattlesnake smiles hold a jolt of electricity, bringing to mind something I wrote many years ago: “… a woman’s power does not diminish a man’s. Rather when embraced, it magnifies them both.”
We should embrace them all. These cowgirls at the Pendleton Round-Up and women worldwide inspire anyone who dares to take the road less traveled without concern about where it may lead.
They hold independence and freedom most of us dream of but lack the nerve to pursue. These ladies will lead the way to a better world… as always.
Let’er Buck to the Women of Summer!
Cowgirl note: The beautiful Lainey Corbett, above, will soon marry my incredible nephew, Lane Richards, on June 17th, 2023 ~ and I can’t wait to see all the beauty they unfold in life as they begin their journey together.
A Lifetime in Eight Seconds
Posted on August 15, 2017
Breathe.
Pray.
Please let me make it through these next eight seconds.
…just one more time.
0.0″
Pure silence, then the vacuum of space explodes.
The rustic crack of the gate breathes fire into the beast below.
Stillness in the air is replaced by a typhoon.
With a jolt, my life begins again.
1.0″
Taunt but forgiving, I lay back as my world rockets forward and just as quick plunges off a cliff.
Amped up, fear begins its transition into a rush of adrenalin.
I revel in the high… “do not lose focus” I repeat to myself.
This trickling wave of confidence brings panic as well, “f o c u s”
2.0″
The whiplash spin shoots me to the left before I get blindsided by a gyration to the right.
Contradictory twists: the head floats one way, the hips another…
My spine begins to cry, impossibly trying to center itself. Trying to center life.
Within this chaos, I feel at home.
3.0″
I rise, and for a moment I feel like a little kid being tossed in the air by my parents…
A smile breaks on my face ~ although buoyancy with a bull is never a good thing.
A coppery, metallic taste fills my head as I wonder, “am I flying, or am I dreaming?”
4.0″
The growing expanse of space between the bull and I no longer matters.
Even apart, I feel connected.
We share the fear and anger; our will to survive.
My hand and arm is a coil of steel, pulsating life throughout my body. I will not give in nor will he.
All of time melds into the present. “I have no past, I have no future.” I love this beast I am riding; our moment to define freedom and strength, while bound by our fate.
5.0″
“F o c u s ” ~ My mind cuts back to previous failures, too many to count ~ matched by my broken bones.
Each failure preparing me for the next ride…each ride more expensive than the last.
Life is a game of inches, of missed opportunities, but this time I shall not lose…
6.0″
In a split second, my mind shifts to the crowd and just as quickly my point of balance ceases to exists.
Forces pull at me from every direction. Gravity becomes a myth.
Chaos erupts and my mind chases to catch the moment. My grip tightens further ~ a negligible pop in my wrist brings a searing pain and snaps my attention.
All falls quiet. I listen…
7.0″
“…the sound of the wind, this violent wind is sweetened by the distant roar of a crowd.”
My arm is on fire, holding onto a knot of fury ~ hand clenched with a vow never to surrender.
“We are still one my friend, I’m not going anywhere…” My heart explodes as I dance along the razor’s edge of survival.
8.0″
The howl of my voice matches the cadence of my heart.
My grip unravels. I slide back and meet a timely swing of the bull’s hip, escorting me free into the air.
Embraced by the sweet calm of the night, dust fills my lungs as I hit and roll off to the side. Hand cramping, wrist afire, I scan the crowd with hungry eyes of hope.
To see her smile, her eyes, her accepting me as the cowboy I am, but there is no one. Emptiness.
There are no words to match this pain.
~ DQ ~
She too becomes a myth. This dream of a perfect ride.
Breathe.
Pray.
Please let me make it through to the next rodeo.
…just one more time.
Women of the American West: Pursuing Excellence
Posted on August 30, 2016
The glint in her eyes mixed with the afternoon sun lulls us in before a quick shift in the saddle flaunts her message: a woman with a Cowgirl Spirit can stretch, bend, and break the rules society lays at her feet.
The whisper of the wind matches the cadence of her gallop. Her light laughter trails off, leaving us cowboys choking in a cloud of dust. Nothing can get our hearts beating faster.
The power of the Women of the American West is no myth, it is a beautiful reality and I pity any man who believes otherwise.
There is an old cowboy saying, “polishing your pants on saddle leather don’t make you a rider…” with its roots in the notion expertise comes from putting in quality time to master an art. Pursuing excellence to shine above the rest describes the Cowgirl Spirit of these women; the confidence and humility are traits rarely discovered together.
The Cowgirl Spirit is found around the globe. A woman who utilizes her strengths with the confidence to pursue life, and the admiration of men who are secure enough to understand embracing the power of such women will move them up to a higher level.
Equality. The quality of two beings, untapped potential when repressed, becoming a powerful, united force when free.
Freedom for women around the world, the Cowgirl Spirit has a long ride ahead, but the excellence in which they ride ensures their success.
Watching the grace of these cowgirls competing on horseback is a perfect analogy to how a woman’s power does not diminish a man’s. Rather when embraced, it magnifies them both. Barrel racing at the Pendleton Round-Up is one of the most popular and watched events, making a great rodeo even better.
The eyes of every cowboy and the world are glued to such poetry in motion…
There is strength in equality, strength in balance, strength in the men who recognize the importance of a spirited woman by their side. True cowboys who understand such a woman opens up aspects of a man’s character that he alone is unable to grasp.
A secure man will pursue the true quality of a woman, one with a Cowgirl Spirit, giving her room to grow as he is confident enough to understand the balance of equality will make him a better man, make his surroundings a better place.
“Equality is not a concept. It’s not something we should be striving for. It’s a necessity. Equality is like gravity….” – Joss Whedon
Equality of women creates vibrancy in life. Sharing strengths without insecurities, both men and women evolve and new ideas and freedoms are generated. Society thrives.
Inequality of women stifles creativity. Insecure and weak men develop brash and destructive egos. Stunted growth rots the potential of a community. There are places around the world that echo such imbalance; stagnant, repressive societies with paralyzed minds and a paralyzed future for their children.
The desire lies in the Cowgirl Spirit, and the worthy men who seek such women to create unity. Balanced individuals grow and progress, triggering society to follow suit as well. This is the hope for the world.
It is possible, the myth of the ‘weaker sex’ was created by the innate skill women have in ciphering through the bullshit of man’s ego and pride. Lesser men fear these resilient women, exploding with ego as their insecurities grow, overcompensating and crippling those around them.
One of the greatest feelings I’ve ever had is being half-a-world away, yet still able to draw strength from the important women in my life. Women, past and present, have helped form part of my character. Character incomplete without learning and accepting the power of equality, unlocking the heart of potential.
These women act as a mirror, reflecting strength in areas men lack. The Cowgirl Spirit brings perspective, a different view when listened to, and greater results when put into action.
Acknowledging someone’s ability does not diminish your own, instead it can strengthen. This is achieving balance. Do not fear the power of women, instead embrace it, and embrace her.
Women with the Cowgirl Spirit have a sensuality that is second to none. Their confidence to give as good as they get, show an authenticity seldom seen. An authentic woman creates the authentic man, allowing evolution to continue.
Without such women, men will never be able to grasp all life can offer. It is important to realize, in many ways, us men would remain our basic, cavemen selves.
The silent confidence of a Woman of the West never ceases to impress and humble me. It is a supreme confidence.
Time is short. Never Stop. Never stop pursuing excellence.
The Cowgirl Spirit balances the secure, authentic Cowboy Spirit. Strength added to strength, creating opportunities that otherwise would remain hidden. Such spirit is present every year in September at the Pendleton Round-Up. Keep up the pursuit.
Let’er Buck!
Let’er Buck: The Life of a Cowboy
Posted on November 4, 2015
Lack of sleep makes concentration difficult. I’m on my third cup of coffee and I can’t help but stare out the window trying to recapture last night’s fading dream of a life of a cowboy.
“找不到你公司税务登记证 ! 在哪里?”
The sound of these foreign words spin me back to reality here in China.
“如果找不到太麻烦!” My secretary again looks at me for a response.
I shut my eyes and focus on the feeling of “Let’er Buck” – a touch of the West, a touch of home.
A world away, I taste the dew of the morning and roll out of bed to gaze over never-ending wheat fields. I imagine saddling up the best friend a cowboy will ever have and head out to face the day.
The feeling of adventure mixed with a taste of adrenaline I suppose is why the cowboy often has a wistful smile as he saddles up.
It doesn’t take long for the soft eyes of my horse to be replaced by the glare of my secretary. Her continual banter in Chinese steals me away from my daydream.
The figures on the spreadsheets in front of me wrestle each other in an endless battle to determine whether the year will see a profit or a loss.
There will be a lot more wrestling with figures before the day ends and the freedom of a ride has never felt so far away. Running on the wind lifted by the cheers of a crowd.
I hold up my hand, and the Chinese words stop mid-sentence and for a second all is quiet, a rare moment of peace.
“I should’ve been a cowboy…” I mutter, a common wish for most guys I grew up with, although for me I admit a life on the back of a bucking bronc is not in my blood.
The courage to ride requires a special spirit infused at birth. The adrenaline rush of the ride, the feel of the rope, speed of the chase and mixing blood with mud is a lifestyle meant only for the few.
What I am chasing though, is almost as elusive, the spirit of the cowboy. The legend created by songs and stories I’ve heard growing up: the down-to-earth attitude, importance of treating each other well and when taking a fall ~ fearlessly dusting off and saddling up again.
Dusting myself off, I stare at my computer and pound out another business email…
The essence of the life of a cowboy defines the spirit of my hometown of Pendleton, Oregon. Waking up every morning with the annual September dream of becoming a cowboy, if only for a day.
To walk out onto the infield grass and take it all in, feeling the crowd with the beating heart of the grandest rodeo in the world, the Pendleton Round-Up.
Around the world there are company executives pilfering the paychecks of their workers, politicians focused on lining their pockets and places where a hard day’s work has become a myth of days gone by.
Yet the philosophy of a cowboy remains true over the centuries. Put in a full day’s work, take care of family and friends and with bones aching, fearlessly climb back into the saddle again.
The cowboy spirit flows through Pendleton with the memories of past cowboy heroes such as Lane Frost, Mike Boothe and Mike Currin – men as genuine in the arena as they were outside.
Also the present champions, Trevor Brazile, winner of four consecutive all-around titles at the Pendleton Round-Up and bareback champion Ty Breuer, showing the heart and spirit of cowboys still run true.
For some, the dreams of the West and the cowboys who built America may be disappearing, however they still remain a strong foundation for the people of Pendleton.
Ranchers and farmers understand there is no such thing as an easy ride and to grab an opportunity when it arrives, knowing it may not come again. So when the rope leaves their hand there is no doubt it will find its mark.
The echo of the rodeo reverberates in my mind, as my fingers struggle to tap out a message on my iPhone. These hands stand in stark contrast to the callused hands of a cowboy holding a rope and reigns.
Any calluses I do have are quickly fading away, perhaps similar to the fading cheers a cowboy hears as he walks away from the arena one last time.
Years ago when I was in my mid-20s, I was talking to a bronc rider after an excellent ride and he said something I’ve never forgotten: “The opening of a bucking chute is like the start of a new day. Some days will be tough with rough rides and broken bones – those days are to be remembered because it makes good days like today taste all the better.”
Patience. Belief. Hard work. Cowboy logic.
There are many things I’ve learned from rodeo champions over the years, but perhaps the most valuable lessons have come from the local farmers and ranchers.
Growing up, my annual summer job at PGG operating Rew grain elevator during harvest stands as one of the best work experiences I’ve ever had.
The many people I worked with at Rew helped form my character, each one having the heart of a Pendleton cowboy. Two such cowboys, Bob Byers, who can create a solution for any problem and Terry Simpson who has an outlook on life second to none; both men define Pendleton perfectly.
From Pendleton to Calgary to Cheyenne and to cities around the world, the spirit of the life of a cowboy flows free and strong. Looking out the window again, I put on a George Strait CD to fit my mood and the music even makes my secretary smile.
Here in China, I’ve found the soul of the cowboy both in myself and in the great people I work with over here.
Closing my eyes, I feel the wind on my face and the pounding of hooves and earth blending perfectly with the music. I feel great.
Yes, I may be thousands of miles from home but all I need to hear are the words “Let’er Buck” and I am right back in the middle of the Pendleton Round-Up arena and it’s a perfect day.
The beginning of December is where the last piece of magic will be performed when future champions get ready to ride at the National Finals Rodeo in Las Vegas.
Cowboys who grew up in small towns around the country, holding onto a belief that one day their names will be dancing in the bright lights of Vegas. Their focus locked-in on the final ride of the year and the chance to etch their name in the history books and become a part of cowboy folklore.
Good luck and good health to all. 祝你们好运气，健康.
Let’er Buck!
The Wolf You Feed ~ A Native American Story
Posted on October 5, 2015
Crawling out of the teepee at first light, my spirit is buoyed with excitement of the salmon run on the Big River (the Columbia). The echoing roar of Celilo Falls in the background is a symphony, welcoming back the tribes once again.
Rubbing my eyes and taking a cool breath of morning air, there is a light laugh beside me followed by several pieces of salmon pemmican pushed into my hand reminding me while I may not have been born into the Umatilla tribe, I am treated as family.
I spot a friend from the Nimi’ipuu (Nez Perce) tribe across the way, and remember the spring day long ago in 1838 sitting down with Chief Tuekakas (Joseph the Elder) and a group of men from the Hudson’s Bay Company out of Fort Vancouver.
I was a young kid responsible for translation, fascinated by these leaders discussing the impact of the first party of Cherokees to resist removal to a reservation, not yet knowing their brave march westward would one day be known as the Trail of Tears.
The impact of Chief Tuekakas’ words that day led me to take the opportunity to travel with his people, the Nimi’ipuu.
The wisdom I collected over those years I hold with gratitude, but my most cherished moment came the day when we stumbled onto a camp of the Umatilla people at the base of the Blue Mountains. All it took was one look and I realized I had found the destiny I had been searching.
Over the past 20 years since those early days, I have lived with the Walla Walla, rode with the Cayuse and shared many a meal with the Palouse, Tenino and Chinook – learning a culture and a land far removed from my birth home in Scotland.
My memory is faint, but I understand while the climate, terrain and traditions of my homeland are quite different; the love of Mother Earth is the same.
It is with this thought I can rest my head, my mind drifting off to dreams of the past. Crossing the Atlantic with family and friends in the year 1828 to reach the New World only to watch in horror as disease ripped through our cramped tenement housing, wiping out everything I held dear.
Broke and alone by the end of the year, I snuck aboard a wagon train with a dream to arrive in the Oregon Country to make my destiny. Discovered by the wagon master early on the trail, my skills as a fisherman and hunter proved valuable, and at a young age I had my first job.
The journey through the free country of the west taught me the land, accepting the beauty it offered. The berries and roots kept us fed. The buffalo, elk and deer honored us with their great bravery as we matched them with our hunting skills.
Not a day goes by where I do not thank the animals, plants and spirit of this land for all they provide, and acknowledge the tacit agreement where we will take care of Mother Earth in return.
Sitting here today along the banks of the Big River, the current mood of the Umatilla people is of sorrow. During the previous night, a tense meeting with the tribal leaders signaled the inevitable signing of a treaty with Washington D.C. to give up 6.4 million acres of land.
A treaty threatening to strangle the freedom and culture built over thousands of years. When the tribes sign the Treaty of 1855 they will receive in exchange, land designated at the Umatilla Indian Reservation to become a permanent homeland.
My mind clears as I gaze off into the distant waters of Celilo Falls. My wife Awendela silently sings as she ponders the future of her people, repairing the fishing nets needed for another day’s work.
Biting into my pemmican, I retell an old folktale from the past, drawing a parallel with the clash of cultures we are experiencing today, an emphasis to remain strong and positive.
“An old man spoke to his grandson. “My child,” he said. “Inside everyone there is a battle between two wolves. One is evil. It is anger, jealousy, greed, inferiority, lies and ego. The other is good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, humility, kindness, empathy, and truth.”
The boy thought for a moment. Then he asked, “Which wolf wins?”
A moment of silence passed before the old man replied, “The one you feed…” ”
Thinking of the world today, I wonder, which wolf is winning?
With the endless cycle of greed that sweeps through men and their politics, I fear the more things change, the more they stay the same.
I feel for the children of this land. The change in lifestyle will be difficult and clashes of culture will create an opportunity for the Evil Wolf to gain traction in the minds of the young.
Turing around, I watch the children of the Cayuse with their ponies teaching the other kids the essence of the magnificent Cayuse horse dominating the plateau. I smile. We can learn much from the children, for their hearts are pure.
Succeed in educating children well and we ensure a way of life and culture forever.
Teach as well as learn the way of the world, and we can all sleep better at night listening to the howling of the Good Wolf, sharing its “joy, peace, love, hope, humility, kindness, empathy, and truth” with us all.
Yes, feed the Good Wolf. I sigh and take another bite of pemmican…even with the sadness, I believe this shall be a very good season indeed.
NOTE: The photos above are from the Pendleton Round-Up and Happy Canyon pageant taking place every September in Pendleton, Oregon. A communion of sorts for the farmers and ranchers of the area along with the gathering of Native American Indian tribes of the Northwest, with the Confederated Tribes of the Umatilla Indian Reservation hosting a teepee village of over 300 teepees.
A weeklong experience every one should experience once in life ~ Let’er Buck ~
Take the Bull By the Horns…
Posted on September 30, 2013
There have been countless moments in life where it feels as if I have just been through a 7.9 second thrashing of a Brahma bull ride: long enough to feel the thrill & pain of every jolt, yet failing at the end with a ‘no-score.’ That last 0.1 seconds an eternity away.
While I have never been on a bull (and never, ever plan too…), the idea of surviving those 8-seconds necessary to score an official ride works well as an analogy in business and life.
“8.0 seconds of fury” is not a way many would like to spend life, but eventually, we will face such a ride. As noted in an earlier post “Let’er Buck” there are courageous souls who tackle this role with wild abandon on the rodeo circuit, and how they handle those 8-seconds can teach us mortal folks about dealing with life.
It takes an artistic skill not only to survive for those 8-seconds, but to create a thing of beauty from such a violent ride. To score the highest possible with the cards we are dealt.
To score the highest, the cowboy must make the ride look effortless. So amid the fury of the ride, arrives the concept of becoming one with the animal…to be one with nature, to allow a certain peace and quiet confidence to envelope the scene.
Synchronicity, where everything around you works together. A moment where it feels like you can achieve anything. Your actions appear and feel effortless as if you are doing nothing, yet your focus and results prove otherwise.
It is taking the bull by the horns, becoming so focused and primed that you flow with the jolts and gyrations that may come your way.
Whether riding a Brahma bull, bronc, or pouring over spreadsheets and business deals: when you are in a zone, life becomes effortless. Answers arrive before questions are asked, work is completed as if it were play. These are the moments to live for, when nothing seems to go wrong.
Years ago, while at the Pendleton Round-Up, I was talking with a group of bareback bronc riders who were describing how they felt during competition. Each one agreed that ‘there are days you feel as if you are one with the animal, and it is a beautiful effortless ride…” and behind that success are years of hard work, experience, and humility.
The one thought I took away from that great conversation in the arena, was advice I still try to follow today: “The minute you start becoming cocky and disrespecting either the animals or those around you, it is lost…the focus is gone, and you are flying through air with a hard, hard ground below…”
Humility is to understand that you can always learn something, often from people and places you least expect. From what I have experienced and seen from cowboys over the years is that there is a consistent trait of confidence and a brazen sense of fearlessness with they way they live…yet even with this confidence, they are respectful and humble.
Respectful of those that came before them, and towards those who work the land making the USA and West they way it is today: a slice of heaven on Earth.
Life throws a lot our way, and as the immortal cowboys teach us every rodeo season with their actions, tough days are inevitable and there will be strings of rides that result in eating dirt & grass.
Such times make us who we are, as we find the focus and passion that allows us to dust ourselves off and prepare for that next ride. For it may be the next ride, that perfect ride, to put us back on top again.
When the time comes where we have to face the ‘agony & ecstasy’ of that 8-second ride in life, keep focus on what is ahead and when problems arise: take the bull by the horns…
Related articles
- African-American Bull Riding Trailblazers (blackmaleequestrians.wordpress.com)
- The Pendleton Round-Up
- Let’er Buck! (dalocollis.com)
Let’er Buck!
Posted on September 8, 2013
“Let’er Buck!”
These two words can awake and excite a soul like no other. My thought of what I wanted to be when I grew up is forever linked with these two words: a cowboy who would win the All-Around Championship at the Pendleton Round-Up…
Realistically, there was a better shot of me becoming the President of the USA, as the road of a Round-Up champion takes a special & courageous soul to travel.
Big dreams at the Pendleton Round-Up, a big stage for any cowboy: if you win here, you have made it on the rodeo circuit. The Pendleton Round-Up is one of the oldest and most respected rodeos in the world.
Dreams of Larry Mahan, Lane Frost, Mike Currin, Mike Beers, Ty Murray and Bobby DelVecchio, great cowboys who have electrified the rodeo world with their art, still churn in my head. Such dreams find the minds of many young rodeo fans in Eastern Oregon, all in anticipation of one day riding in the world-famous Pendleton Round-Up.
Yet, it is not just the big names that kids dream about…it is the ranchers and farmers of the area that make this show (and dream) so close. Heroes, who one day are working the fields of their farms and ranches, and the next day are dedicating their time both as participants and key figures in making the Round-Up successful.
Favorite events of steer wrestling, saddle-bronc and bareback to the riding of the Brahma bulls will see local and international cowboys show-off their skill. While they often end up with just a mouthful of dirt and grass to show for their efforts, they’re always buoyed by the applause and support of the crowd.
In someway, all of us in the crowd are on the field sharing our dreams with cowboys as they ride.
Of course, dreams of young men are never complete without visions of a goddess or two to steal away his time, and the Round-Up has more than its share of such beauties. While every rodeo has numerous ‘buckle-bunnies’ it takes a special woman to make it to the Round-Up, especially the role of Round-Up Queen and her Court of Princesses.
The Queen and Her Court can take me away from whatever I am doing, and along with everyone else watch them glide into the arena, flying in on their steeds with a grace that would make Pegasus jealous. There have been royalty a plenty over the years: Jody Gugin, Ellen Kilkenny, Sara Mautz and my all-time favorite Mary-Lou O’Rourke (Lazinka) back in the 1960s.
Mary Lou’s husband (Bob O’Rourke) taught me the joys of fishing and the spirit of living in the area…while her brother Bob Lazinka had land on Butter Creek and in the mountains outside Ukiah, an ideal place to spend a lot of time elk, Chukar and pheasant hunting with my Dad (a past Round-Up Director as well…very proud).
The call of “Let’er Buck!” still echoes in my head, no matter where I am. These simple words create a wonderful sense of emotion for any Pendletonian, anywhere in the world and at anytime of the year.
These are the words of freedom, of hard work, of taking risks and knowing you have a whole community of people with love behind you. It is at the heart of what made the West a great part of US history. The stuff little kids dream about…even kids in their 40s.
The Round-Up is a conglomerate of the spirit of the surrounding communities of Eastern Oregon (Heppner, Helix, Pilot Rock, Athena, Hermiston, Enterprise, Baker…to name just a few). An event created over 100 years ago to celebrate the life of the West and to commemorate the harvest season and communal support for the farmers and ranchers. And, of course, to put on a show…
Many people have asked me how & why I speak so often of my family, and the answer is simple: because I come from Pendleton. Knowing that after 25 years of being out of contact, I can show up at the doorstep of any friend in Pendleton, and we can pick-up our conversation as if it was yesterday as they warmly take me in.
The spirit of the West and the spirit of the people of Pendleton are the backbone of the Round-Up.
While I love my adopted cities of Hong Kong and Seattle…the roots of Pendleton taught me the essentials of life. The phrase ‘salt of the earth’ is often thrown around, but come to Pendleton and you will see and experience this quality first hand.
~ The Westward Ho Parade ~
Unique in that there are no motorized vehicles allowed
The Round-Up is an annual calling around world. Friends from all across the globe will come to this small town in Eastern Oregon and join the ‘wild & free’ spirit that makes the rodeo what it is today. While it is an event that brings together a rich history of the life of cowboys and the West, it also strongly wraps itself up in the history & culture of the Native Americans who have always been at one with the land.
As mentioned in my earlier post of the beauty of nature: no one owns the water, the sky or fresh air, and the Confederated Tribes of the Umatilla Indian Reservation are reconnecting modern society back to the roots of nature. Chinook salmon have returned to the Umatilla River through the relentless work of the Confederated Tribes working with farmers and irrigators. Working with Mother Earth is a way of life in this region.
The Confederated Tribes of the Umatilla Reservation host an amazing tribal village, with over 300 teepees consisting of Indians from around the Northwest. Here they share their cultures with all travelers, and during the week tribes from the Pacific Northwest gather in the village to visit with friends and relatives. One of the most mesmerizing and refreshing sights you will see at the Pendleton Round-Up.
The days of dreaming of becoming a cowboy maybe out of reach for me these days, but then again, as I strap on my chaps, put on my Stetson and an old belt buckle from riding days past…it is a dream I get to relive every September at the Pendleton Round-Up…the grandest of all rodeos.
Let’er Buck!
Related Articles:
http://projects.oregonlive.com/photos/2010/03/26/cowboys-in-eastern-oregon/
http://www.oregonlive.com/business/index.ssf/2010/03/oregon_cowboys_face_a_tough_ne.html
Global Sojourns Photography 