Tradition, wild west style

K.J. HASCALL / Hungry Horse News

There's a very special tradition that takes place every year outside the little town of Lodgepole, Neb.

At the Christensen family ranch, dozens of people descend for branding. It's one big party revolving around wrestling calves, catching up with old friends and mounds of food. Many people in attendance report they've been coming for more than 20 years and arrange their entire schedules around the day.

The event begins Saturday morning at 8 a.m. when the family gathers for breakfast at my fiance's grandfather's home. Shawn and I made the trip at the last second, and so our presence was a welcome surprise.

After breakfast, Shawn and his father helped saddle horses. A number of people ride horses during the roundup, while others follow in pickups. Saturday morning found yours truly atop a four-wheeler with friend Willow, 11, whose nose is speckled with adorable freckles. Armed with cameras, we set off into the pasture.

And because nothing ever goes completely smoothly at branding, about 100 feet into the pasture, Shawn's black mare Beauty stepped on a rattlesnake. Other than a bad scare, Beauty was fine and the snake was quickly dispatched. Its headless body was tossed into the bed of one of the pickups, which Shawn's niece would later jump into unsuspecting. Again, other than a bad scare, she was fine.

This year, there were about 120 calves to brand. In years past, the Christensens and friends have branded twice that number. But these are not friendly times to small farmers.

Shawn, his burly cousins and sundry friends tackle the older calves - calving begins in February and as luck would have it, usually in the middle of a blizzard - while the girls go after the littler ones coming through the chute. Years of experience have made branding an assembly line process, a well-oiled machine.

There were few mishaps Saturday. Last year cousin Cason got his foot stomped. The year before that, cousin Coleman walked away with a crooked nose. Except for getting pinned to a gate Saturday, cousin Lance got up bruised but OK. Also, there were no monster calves like one last year that required six men to pin down.

This year, my sister Kaitlin, my mother and two of my cousins also attended branding. Kait got her first taste of ranch life when she helped me pin the last calf of the day to the dirt.

"Hold on tight!" I cautioned. Earlier in the day, one wily calf evaded my grip and I've got quite the bruise on my shin to prove that it's best not to let go.

My sister and I maintained our hold on the calf through inoculation and branding. Once finished, we dusted the dirt and manure from our jeans and gave each other high-fives.

Following the main event, everyone gathers in the Quonset for a feast fit for kings (but no good for white-dress diets). Later, branding attendees could take cart rides behind a neighbor's Morgan Kitty, take a trot out in the field on any of the horses, go for a four-wheeler ride or hike a canyon 20 miles away. Then more eating, card games and flipping through photo albums filled with yellowed photos from years long gone.

This yearly event is so important to Shawn's family and friends. I consider myself extremely lucky to be a part of it this year and last year. I hope there will be more brandings to come, though even rural western Nebraska has not escaped the nation's economic woes.

If anything, branding teaches this lesson: There is no better way to spend a Saturday once a year working toward a common goal. We celebrate friendships, births, weddings and remember those passed from this world, all in one glorious day. As Shawn's grandfather said when everyone gathered to bless the noon meal, there's nothing better than the wind on one's face, the creak of the saddle and the companionship of family and friends.

K.J. Hascall is the managing editor of the Hungry Horse News.