Houstonians are familiar with the 13 trail rides into
Houston for the Livestock Show and Rodeo Parade at the end of February. We see
them on the freeways prodding toward Memorial Park, their destination prior to
the big Go Texas Day Parade through downtown the next day. Some of these are
almost 400-mile long trips. They continue the traditions of an older and more
romantic Texas.
Years ago I was introduced to
another kind of trail ride through my wife’s family in Mexico. The Cabalgata Revolucionaria Morelos is an
annual November event. A cabalgata is
a cavalcade
or procession taking many forms. In ranching towns, this is called a “circular
procession”—cabalgata revolucionaria—celebrating
ranching traditions and a time for families and friends to bond. By “circular”
it means that it begins at a ranch hosting that year’s ride and then the trail
winds cross-country through other ranches and ends in the town of Morelos. Some
towns’ ride begins and end in the town.
Morelos in Coahuila State is a
small ranching town 35 miles across the border from Eagle Pass, Texas. It’s not
the Mexico seen by tourists nor was it troubled by the border violence until
recent years. It was a quiet, laidback town in which we did not hesitate to
take night strolls on unlit streets. Things got bad a couple of years ago, but
the Mexican Marines have settled things down and it’s getting back to normal. Regardless,
cattle ranching is the focus here and the traditions and values are more
fitting for the 1880s.
A recent cabalgata was hosted by our family’s Rancho el Consuelo and riders began assembling on the 36,000-acre
ranch on a Friday afternoon. A bonfire-lit mini-rodeo was held that night followed by dancing in the corals by firelight accompanied by blaring car radios. By dawn
Saturday over 3,000 riders were assembled. Its one thing to organize 3,000
people, but there’s as many horses too and each extended family and ranch has its
supply wagons for little kids, and oldsters and for hauling food and drink.
The start is always surprising
smooth with everyone cooperating and helping out. The priest blesses all of the
riders and horses and the possession sets off stringing out into a miles long
column as it ambles across the range-land over dirt roads. Most noticeable are
the number of mounted kids wearing big Stetsons and denim jackets. They’re
treated as equals and are expected to pull their load. It’s all part of the
bonding and they learn the time-honored skills and traditions.
Mid-morning finds the riders and
wagons in a clearing and forming a huge circle for the first rodeo’s “coral.” This
year it’s a horse obstacle course in which riders demonstrate both their skills
and their mount’s. Riding on, there’s a strong sense of a mobile community as
we visit with friends and families, meet new friends, and carry on long
conversations as we ride. Food and drink are shared in the saddle being handed out
from the wagons without halting.
The mid-afternoon rodeo finds us
in another massive circle. Its bull-riding time and this is when young vatos—dudes—display their pride and
skill before all. These are just roped, range-wild bulls. Watching the boys
trying to mount the bellowing critters as they attempt to leap and literally climb
out of the six-foot high chutes is a sight to see. You can tell they’re having
second thoughts, but they can’t back down in front of the entire town. Some
charging bulls break trough the “corral” with horses and riders scattering in
all directions and the announcer saying maybe we’ll find the rider tomorrow,
maybe.
The end of the long day finds us
winding into the village of Los Álamos for an impromptu parade with the entire
town turning out. Horses are unsaddled, fed, and watered. Campsites surrounding
the town are set up and fires kindled. For the kids it’s a time of excitement
and learning. Around campfires with the grownups, they learn to tell tales,
cuss—politely, drink coffee, play Pokar,
take part in adult conversations and learn a rough, but very valuable
etiquette. It may sound rancorous, but they learn about being as good their
word, trusting family and friends, and being responsible for their actions.
They also do all the camp chores, but
that’s part of the deal. It’s a long, nearly sleepless night of visiting with
talk of old times, old friends and future hopes.
After a quick breakfast of arroz, frijoles y tortillas—rice, beans
and tortillas—we saddle up and start for Morelos just a few miles away. This is
the big day, the final. The beery-eyed riders perk up as we approach town. The
high school band is playing and CD players blast music over PAs. We ride
through town waving and throwing candy to the kids with thousands cheering.
Even the neighboring towns are represented as the riders come from all over the
area. Three of the five towns of the Cinco
Manantiales (Five Springs) area
have an annual ride and many take part in all of them.
The parade breaks up; hundreds
of horse trailers and pickups appear on side streets. After taking care of the
horses our extended family adjourns to a relative’s home for a massive
breakfast that runs into lunch and beyond. On the patio, chairs are pulled
together and there’s endless conversations and planning for the next cabalgata. Hundreds of such
get-togethers are occurring across town.
In the evening, we all walk to
the dance hall where three different bands will provided the dance music into
Monday morning. We ended the dance with a conga line winding through the rooms,
even the kitchen, out the back door, and through the parking lot. Passing cars
and pickups honked and folks cheered us on. A couple cars pulled over and the
occupants joined the line.
We don’t have family reunions,
the cabalgata—along with quinceañeras
and weddings—serve in its place with families traveling from all over Mexico
and the States to attend this annual tradition.
Magnificent!
ReplyDeleteIts quite an experience, a whole different life style. You feel you've been time-warped back to the 1880s, except for the cell phones and ring-pull tabs.
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful community experience. Mardi Gras on the hoof, except for the camp chores and learning etiquette/responsibility for your actions! May I borrow a horse and tag along? (something broke to ride, thank you)
ReplyDeleteAs usual, thanks for the enlightenment. V
Oh, that's the fun part. Most of our horses are not exactly fully broke. First you have to rope one...
DeleteReckon I'll pass this time, Gordo. My bronc riding days are over. I only rode one and that's enough for me. (He didn't tell me he was a bronc until I got on him...bareback.)
DeleteWow, what a wonderful way to celebrate and connect with neighbors both old and new. Great tradition. Doris
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful tradition! It sounds like a ton of fun as well as having the benefit of integrating the children into the adult community--something that's very lacking in most places.
ReplyDeleteThe first time I went on one of these rides I was astounded at how the kids were treated and what was expected of them. When I saw a nine year old girl expecting the horse hoofs of all the family members, she said she was responsible and did it to protect the family and help the horses.
Delete