In the last five days, I've spent nineteen hours on planes, four hours in airports, six hours on horseback and about ten hours in cars, because Texas is (cue really original statement) really big. The rest of the hours have been spent drinking, going to the cowgirl museum, riding on a bucking bronco machine, then watching rodeo riders on real bulls (I was particularly impressed by the 'clowns' - or bullfighters - who were there to distract the bulls once they'd bucked off the riders; balls of steel), drinking and eating an awful lot of Tex-Mex.
By far the best part of the trip was the time spent at the Wildcatter Ranch. We headed over there on Sunday (me, a lovely PR, a photographer mate and lovely Mirror journalist, who, conveniently, was called Jessie - particularly cool as Jessie's owner in Toy Story Two was called Emily) and spent two of the most blissful - and hottest - days of my life herding cattle, riding horses up mountains, eating spare ribs cooked over a mesquite BBQ pit, chewing tobacco (or chaw) then spitting it into the fire, singing (yes, 'Home on the Range' came up), playing cards, getting a wooden flower whittled (all of the girls were given one by one of the cowboys - he sat there carving them for us), and indulging in all things cowboy (without indulging in any cowboys - none of whom had heard of 'Reverse Cowgirl' - though the PR for Fort Worth came up with the lovely quote of 'Texas is iconic of so many things, so why shouldn't we have a sex position inspired by the state?'.)
Best of all from my point of view, was sleeping under the stars. The plan was that, after riding horses in the mountains and herding cattle around all afternoon (which is really good fun, made less scary because the bulls were quite young, and thus small, and the calves were utterly adorable.) we'd go off to the campsite, where there was one tent for the blokes (the photographer and the cowboys) and one for the girls.
But then I noticed the hammock slung between two trees.
I thought that I'd have to fight everyone for it, as it was clearly the best place to sleep in the entire site, but, suprisingly, everyone was happy for me to nab it OK, maybe I do talk too much for them to want me sharing their tent. Or they could have been put off because the tour guides warned us that there could be rattle snakes and black widow spiders on the site, and there were loads of mosquitos around. But I figured that there are only so many times in life that you get the chance to sleep under the stars on a Texas range, listening to the crickets chirping and coyotes howling (no, I'm not over-exaggerating. Though the dogs, Button and Cici, chased off the coyotes.) and it was a risk worth taking.
It utterly lived up to the hype. I drifted off to sleep, staring up at the stars (and wishing that I had glass eyelids so I could see the stars as I slept) and was woken by dawn breaking.
Actually. to be more exact, I was woken by a rattling sound and leaves rustling, which scared me awake. I lay there, feeling nervous, slightly hungover, and really quite cold , wondering whether I should go into the tent to relative safety. Then I remembered that rattlesnakes were way more likely to be on the ground than in my hammock, and I couldn't get to the tent without going on the ground - without a torch to see whether there were any snakes or otherwise scary things.
I snuggled deeper into my sleeping bag, closed my eyes for a couple of minutes and then everything suddenly became really bright. Turning my head to the right, I opened my eyes to see dawn breaking over the mountains. Bizarrely, to my left, the sky was still midnight blue and twinkling with stars. I lay, turning my head from one side to the other, utterly freaked out and awed by the sky seemingly spilt in two - one side daylight, the other night. It's a sight that will always stay with me - I'm gutted I didn't have a camera, though I doubt I could have done it justice as I'm rubbish at photography - and made the brief moment of fear vanish. I'd willingly risk braving snakes and spiders to see that sight again.
Only when it became properly light could I go back to sleep again, and was woken about two hours later by Button - the six month old dog - jumping up on my hammock and licking my face. Contrary to cartoons and slapstick comedy, hammocks are pretty easy to sleep in (I managed to sleep in a foetal position without any balance problems) and it felt totally stable, even with Button jumping up. I got up to a breakfast of tortillas and spanish omelette, cooked by a genuine cowboy over the campfire, and served with salsa and a tin cup of coffee.
Of course, while I was in Texas, I didn't fall into the trap of turning into a total tourist cliche. No, really.
I'm not usually one for lists, but hell, jetlag can change a person, so here are a few 'Cowgirl Experience' lists that cover the remainder of the trip experiences:
Injuries
1 Of the 'Parts that ache that I never realised it was possible to make ache' variety:
- The squidgy bit underneath my knees
- The inner cheeks of my arse
- The outer tendon of my ankle
- The squidgy bit underneath my thumb (which, I think, is called the Delta of Venus)
2 Of the 'assorted other injuries' variety:
- Bruising on the inside of my ankle (from the stirrups)
- Aching thighs
- Aching stomach muscles
- Aching shoulders (though the trapped nerve was well and truly shaken free with all the riding)
- Aching upper arms
Despite sleeping under the stars, I got away without a single mosquito bite; the camp had kindly given us insect repellant and it seemed to work wonders.
Things I bought
1 Of the 'useless bits of tourist tat which seemed utterly essential purchases whilst in Texas *' variety
- Various flavours of beef jerky
- Numerous sheriff badges
- T-shirts from bars with 'wacky' slogans (at least none were of the '...and all I got was this lousy T-shirt' variety' - even I have limits)
- Matchbooks
* Luckily, most of them are presents, so my house won't get cluttered up with them - they'll clutter up my mates' houses instead.
2 Of the 'things that I don't regret buying at all, despite the potential for many of them to fall into 'tourist tat' variety:
- A black stetson
- A leather and silver belt
- A red bandana
- Two strands of real pearls ($3 each at a gem fair - I couldn't say no at that price. I tested they were real - you run your teeth over them to see if they feel rough - and they were, so I figure that was a top bargain.)
Other things that confused/impressed me
1 Somehow, my feet are vaguely tanned, which I really don't understand, because they were covered in Doc Martens the entire time I was riding.
2 You can get take-away frozen flavoured margaritas in Texas, so I got to indulge my childhood passion for slushies doubled with my adult passion for alcohol.
3 Horse whispering and Tantric sex have very similar theories at root (no, you don't have sex with the horses; it's the attitude that's the same)
I'll be doing a proper write-up of the trip for Blink magazine, so guess I'll crawl into bed before I write everything about the trip here. Somehow, my futon seems so much less inviting after my night under the stars. But at least I don't have to watch for rattlesnakes when I go to the loo.
Posted by emilyd at June 02, 2004 04:30 AM