Waking to 37 degrees this morning, summer is walking on down the Continental Divide to South America, leaving me trembling… not in cold, but in fear of the swiftly approaching winter! I best get grooving on some branding thoughts before they disappear as well.

This year was my first for branding. Part of me almost thought that I would be able to avoid the process. I hadn’t been looking forward to the idea of wrestling our (rapidly growing) calves and doctoring them with tattoos, branding irons, and vaccines. And to be honest, that feeling hasn’t changed for next year. I’m already again not looking forward to inhaling that rank burn smell, to seeing the calves move their way around the corral in fleeting movements of anti-surrender. But enough on what I’m NOT looking forward to… this year was smooth and there were many stellar performances by all involved.

Meet our cast of characters:

DonRay, J’s dad, a lifetime brander, wielder of stories, and master of all things metal. He basically filled in all the holes on this day, directing as he muscled his way in on the heads.

Brenda, my extremely flexible, willing & wonderful aunt who married my Uncle Joel back when I was in 4th grade or something. We’re glad she’s in the family. She keeps things level. A Chicago native. She was designated nurse. Handed over the branding iron, the tattoo stamp, the ink, and the vaccines. Way to stay level-headed, Brenda.

Joel, number 6 of 7 kids in my dad’s family. He’s hilarious, a gifted graphic designer, and really you just never know what to expect with him. He drinks good beer and wine with us. Also, born and raised in Chicago, he took these photos.

Carl, my 18 year old cousin, lifelong resident of Chicago. He’s an Illinois State Champion in high jump. He’s also tried a brief one month stint as a vegetarian. Good thing that was over in time to brand. Carl handled the tightening of the rope some, as well as held down a heel in the back.

Zach, a new friend that does research on hawks out here in Wyoming. His mom is one of our greatest friends from Ann Arbor, director of the Gallery Project. As it turns out, you’d never guess Zach isn’t a native of Wyoming and that this was his first branding. He really pulled through. He’s job was basically to manhandle the back end of the calves. He learned the technique real well by the second calf.

Josh, my husband who has rested his roping wrists for about 15 or so years. He came back strong… he did all the dirty work.

Sarah, that’s me, the one that locked herself in the bathroom after it was all said and done to cry away the intensity of it all.

There’s a strange culture to branding, one that has a celebratory nature. People seem to like the festivities of branding day, a day that signifies real work. A day where you walk away dirty, beer can in hand, and realize that you’ve done a real day’s work. We only have 6 calves, but I think overall there was that same feeling to the day. The exhaustion category was definitely had by all, but there was also a feeling that we did the best job we could, and that was pretty darn well for two ranchers working with five urbanites. We figured out the system and worked terribly well together. Things to change for next year… BRAND EARLIER! These babies were enormous for wrestling.

DonRay would brand 100 head of calves each year. Large ranches will brand a 100 at a time out in the field, and have multiple days of it. To think of our experience, I realize just how unique it is in this context of Wyoming. As we grow, this day will change. Never will I enjoy the idea, but I know it will get easier.

And now the question of why, why, why must you burn the skin of these cows. The answer is complicated (or maybe it’s simple?) but involves western ranches that utilize public lands. There is no better way to identify an animal. The range is full of black angus these days, and regardless of breed, livestock have always been a loved item for thievery. So branding is legally required for running livestock on public lands. Many ranchers run their herd on miles and miles of land, leaving room for cattle to wander, or stock trailers to come and load up without being seen. Animals can’t be sold at market or processed at a slaughter facility without being inspected by brand. So that’s why. I haven’t figured out a better system yet, but when I do, we’ll spread the word. And pass it by the feds.

The calves have all recovered nicely, two of the bulls are now steers, and the mamas still allow us to scratch behind their ears occasionally. As much as it seems like these animals would be traumatized, as soon as they were reunited with their moms, it seemed like life was pretty much back to normal. I’d see a wince of pain when the mom would try and lick the brand, but it didn’t take long for that to all just subside and for the eating of grass and milk to commence. It’s good to experience this on a small scale, and we’re oh-so-grateful for the support of family and friends who were willing to come and spend the day doing something down right dirty.

Now…. on to building the log house. Every morning wakes me, the cold warning us of winter to come (though I swear it was only just here….).