Traer las vacas a la feria
Bringing the cattle down from the summer pastures.
Today, I had the honor of participating in the centuries-old tradition of “bajando las vacas” or, “bringing the cattle down” from the summer mountain pastures to the Nava. Myself and two of my coworkers headed to the barn around 8 am. Instead of bringing the horses in for breakfast, we brought it to them, pouring little piles of grain on the lush grass of the Nava for our horses to fight over. We slyly grabbed the three horses we rode today — Copin, Potter, and Nemo — and brought them in to quickly clean them up. We left around 8:20 am to meet my coworker’s brother on the other side of town.
Despite the incredibly early time (especially for Spain), the town was abuzz with excitement. Our horses took a good hard look — or a good hard spook — at the different vendors’ tents that had somehow popped up overnight, but we managed to make it to our meeting spot.
A number of other townspeople were already there, slowly chasing some cattle from one of the fields on the outskirts of Navarredonda. Many of them were dressed in typical and traditional “vaquero” garb… brown boots, vests, caps or wide-brimmed hats, and longgggggg stirrups. Together, walked the five or six cows (now on the road) back through town. I think almost all of the town came out to watch us move the cattle — it was very reminiscent of Cheshire’s Thanksgiving Day Hunt, where everyone in the community sees the riders off at the kennels. We even had our own Spanish Jim Graham, driving ahead of us in his car and jumping out to snap pictures. It admittedly made me a bit homesick.
We pushed the cattle up towards the start of the Pinar, where we dropped three off at one “cuadra.” Because I’m still learning the “who’s who” of Navarredonda, I wasn’t sure who the cattle belonged to — all Navarredonda beef farmers’ keep their cattle together, electing to collaborate rather than divide responsibilities. We continued up towards the summit of one of the smaller mountains that surrounds Navarredonda. I am quite familiar with the route, as it is usually the beginning of all of Equiberia’s Gredos-based rides.
We rode on ahead so we could watch the entire herd of Navarredonda’s Black Andalusian cattle descend the mountain. At this point, my coworker and I agreed that we might have been better off choosing more… spunky mounts for today. Both of our horses were great and were fine around the other particularly bloody horses, but we began brainstorming which horses would be innate cow horses. I put my money on some of our mares, who are quick, respectful, and, when needed, mean. My coworker thought of our Arab, Andalusian, and Spanish horses, who move out but can turn on a dime when needed. Our conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the cattle and the whoops and hollers of the vaqueros following them. We immediately jumped in the fray.
Getting them down the mountain was a piece of cake — cows have no desire to launch themselves into the particularly thick pine woods that line each side of the mountain trail. It was, however, difficult to bring them back up to the Nava. My coworkers and I were still trailing the group when we reached the base of the hill we needed herd the up and over. The hill itself is quite steep, and contains a number of broom and rock-filled switchbacks, so we had some cow separation. Some would stay on the road, some would go through the tall broom and disappear from sight.
Thus, it became a bit messy. We began making our way up the hill when we heard a voice from above us shout down: ¡hay una vaca perdida debajo de ti! My coworker and I knew it was our chance (to actually do something). We sprung into action, urging Potter and Nemo into a canter. I went from the left, my coworker from the right, like clockwork. We sent the cow back up towards the group, and cantered up the next two switchbacks to ensure everyone was reunited. We were smiling from ear to ear, our adrenaline pumping. We assisted! And our horses were exhausted, despite the short amount of work.
But alas, more shouting. Three or four of the guys were looking for a cow that disappeared in the broom, asking each other where it went. Now, to me, herding cattle on horseback was becoming a bit of a game, and with all that adrenaline pumping, I wasn’t about to lose cattle. I pushed Nemo off the road up into the broom, trotting towards where I thought I saw movement. The cow — or, rather, the moving broom — ducked to the right and I followed right on it. A vaquero emerged from below me and helped push the cow slowly back up towards the herd, both of us yelling the customary “huh!” sound that I swore at the beginning of the day I would not say.
Despite our successful attempt at reuniting this second cow, a few of us (including some vaqueros) were scolded for “scaring” the cow by a short Spanish man on a beautiful paint horse. My coworker and I ignored his comment, assuming that it came from a place of teaching rather than scolding despite his elevated tone. Don’t get me wrong, we certainly did not scare the cow (ignoring the fact that cows are likely scared for roughly 90% of their lives), but given cattle is his livelihood, we took it on the chin. Our enjoyment of herding and adrenaline might have played a role in that as well, but the outcome is the same.
Once we breached the hill, it was smooth sailing. The cows jogged right on down to the Nava, where some vaqueros had ridden ahead and opened the gate.
We enjoyed “aperitivo” in the Nava with all of the riders from the day — we were about thirty in total, so it was quite a large celebration. Today was truly an incredible experience, and I thanked my Navarredonda-native coworker profusely for allowing me to join her family, friends, and town on this special occasion.
Until next time!
Love this description of herding the cattle. Miss those cow bells!