And to undo another myth, rodeo is not cruel to animals. Compared to the arduous life of any 'using horse' on a cattle or dude ranch, a bucking horse leads the life of Riley. His actual work load for an entire year, i.e., the the amount of time he spends in the arena, totals approximately 4.6 minutes, and nothing done to him in the arena or out could in any way be called cruel.
G. Ehrlich, The solace of open spaces (1985), 126
In our hellbent earnestness to romaniticise the cowboy we've ironically disesteemed his true character. If he's 'strong and silent' it's because there's probably no one to talk to. If he 'rides away into the sunset' it's because he's been on horseback since four in the morning moving cattle and he's trying, fifteen hours later, to get home to his family. If he's a 'rugged individualist' he's also part of a team: ranch work is team work and even the glorified open range cowboys of the 1880s rode up and down the Chisholm Trail in the company of twenty or thirty other riders.
G. Ehrlich, The solace of open spaces (1985), 63-4
Part of the sheepherder's mystique is having opted to be an outsider. It's a first century job with nineteenth-century amenities - a traditional wagon with rounded top and a ship-tight interior, a saddle horse, and stock dog to get the work done. But to have chosen a life of solitude is seen as a sign of failure. In most cases they've abandoned the world for less saintly reasons than spiritual transformation. More often, it's a social defect that's kept these men at bay - women troubles, alcohol, low self-esteem. Others prefer the company of animals. But in the process of keeping their distance they may learn what makes the natural world tick and how to stay sane.
G. Ehrlich, The solace of open spaces (1985), 29
