I’ve learned that “quick” is a relative term when spoken by a rancher. A parts run can become a multi-town scavenger hunt, and checking water can turn into fixing fence, chasing cows and solving the world’s problems over a barbed-wire fence. But somehow, I still climb into the pickup every time.
Turning down an invitation to join my husband on a ranch road trip, be it to check water or on a parts run, has never been my instinct. But after putting in my years as a rancher’s wife, I’ve learned to accept those invitations with tempered expectations. Ranch wives around the country know just what I’m talking about.
There never is a “quick” parts run or drive “just” to check water. There is some magic in the universe that turns a simple plan into a complicated ordeal that adds seven extra stops and several more hours. So what is an outing with a rancher like? Let me tell you.
To begin with, the invitation always comes at the most inopportune time. You’ve just started a baking project, begun tackling the cleaning you’ve been putting off, or are halfway through leg day and covered in sweat. Regardless, you pull out your own kind of magic to do a 180 to the day and get ready in record time because there is no waiting for you to get to a good stopping point.
The list might start simple like a few hydraulic hoses that need fixing, but a ranch wife is never fooled into believing it will be just the one stop. Pulling into the parts store will always spark another part or piece to a project to be picked up. If you are lucky, it’s just one more thing to bang on the counter at your original stop, but most likely it will require at least one, maybe two more stops to find.
It’s not all that often that a rancher hits town, so guys back at home try to make the most of his trip. This means their own additions to the list- fencing material, feed, vaccines… you name it, they will send him for it. And rightly so. How silly it would be to come home not loaded down with all the imaginable supplies!
The quick trip has now turned into hours long and since you didn’t have any time to put your socks on, you also didn’t have any time to grab any food before you left. Fortunately, neither did he. Feeling your pain, he’s usually game to turn the errands into a lunch date. If you’re lucky, it might not even be gas station food.
Now there are at least two possible circumstances that will make your outing feel like a day that will never end. The first is when he drives past the bank or the FSA office and remembers he needs to fill out some simple paperwork. There is some sort of timewarp that happens as you pass through the doors that forces everyone to slow down to a pace that defies the laws of time. A simple signature turns into a conversation, the conversation sparks a new conversation, and before you know it, you’re sitting in the truck wondering if you’ve entered an alternate universe where clocks don’t exist. Suddenly the rest of the world runs on ranch time, where five minutes is a hopeful estimate of two hours.
The second possibility is when that initial parts run turns fruitless and instead of accepting defeat, your rancher doubles down, determined that he will find what he needs come h-e-double-hockey-sticks or high water. This means checking all the parts stores in this town, that town, and every possible town in between. These are the trips I have learned to bring a book, a blankie, and a heavy helping of marriage-saving grace.
Just because you’ve traded the parts store for the pickup trails doesn’t mean the surprises are over. A day with a rancher on the range is every bit as unscripted—about as predictable as turning a toddler loose with a tag marker in one hand and tattoo ink in the other.
To be fair, there are a myriad of factors far outside a rancher’s control, like the breachy cows that think the dry grass on the other side of the fence is somehow better than the dry grass they are currently eating. Or the well, pump, pipe and troughs that, thankfully don’t all break down at once, do have some sort of a come apart.
One thing I will blame him for is not having the tools to fix every problem under the sun. I mean, how is it that every truck cubby is full of tools, the back seat has no room for passengers, and the truck bed doubles as a shop and yet we don’t have what we need? Is that even possible?!
It always seems that a day with a rancher is the day he wants to work on his personal relations with all our neighbors. It’s like he put out a signal and everyone came out to solve all the world’s problems. And if they didn’t chat in person, I’m fairly certain they gave him a call. There is nothing that draws a long day out even longer than listening to your husband catch up with his neighbor over barbed wire and salt block prices.
I might complain a little how a trip to check water turns into a day of getting cows back in, taking a neighbor’s bull home, fixing fence, and replacing the float on a trough instead of a simple range outing. Or that a quick day running errands turns out to be chasing down that one part, filling out hours of paperwork, and extending the trip to pick up a few more bags of seed. But I can’t deny that it’s all worth the time and craze to just spend a day with a rancher. The sights are always spectacular, the friends fun, and the company the best on the range.
So the next time he says we’re “just checking water” I’ll still climb into the pickup and try to remember a snack and that the itinerary is only a suggestion. The real adventure is everything that happens in between.
