that seller keeps selling

What do you think cowdude. Where is whitelight and the transvestite.

Giddy-up, cowboy!

Trent Edwards
CanWest News Service



CREDIT: Lorraine Hjalte/CanWest News Service
Bent Creek Western Guest Ranch is a spot for tourists to learn how to ride western style and learn real skills that cowboys use everyday.

A hawk shrieks as it circles high above the river valley where a herd of cattle attempts to find shade from a blazing sun amid dry scrub.

A group of riders on horseback forms a horseshoe shape around the cows. Then rancher Gerry Karchuk uses a Wild West reference to remind his team not to spook the herd.

"Just pretend like we're back 150 years ago and we're cattle rustlers," Karchuk says quietly.

Manuela Hebegger tries to translate the concept into German for her boyfriend Daniel Gerber. There's just one problem: she's never heard of a cattle rustler. It's just one of many cultural challenges for Hebegger and her fellow European cowpokes as they get a crash course on all things western at a guest ranch near Fort Macleod.

Although Bent Creek Western Vacations Guest Ranch is only a two-hour drive from Calgary -- a city that goes wild for all things western during the Calgary Stampede -- about 60 per cent of the guests here are Europeans. Even Karchuk's two ranch hands hail from Austria and France.

"A lot of Europeans have dreamt about ranching for their entire lives," Karchuk says.

Joining Hebegger and Gerber of Switzerland are Heather Beckett and David Hongkins, a couple from Bolton, England, and Pippa Bywater of Yorkshire, England. All have riding skills, but none have been to a ranch.

Beckett and Hongkins came to Bent Creek in search of the cattle drive fun they watched on the 1991 Hollywood film that made guest ranching popular, City Slickers. They soon learn this ain't no dude ranch.

"Don't say dude around here," warns Karchuk's wife Kathy. "Gerry doesn't like it."

Bent Creek is a working ranch, and Hollywood's western cliches are verboten. No one here shouts 'Yahoo!' or 'Yeehaw!' Karchuk doesn't pander to his guests' notions of cowboy lingo by pulling out hokey phrases like "Git along li'l dogie."

Instead, Karchuk has the confident air of a cowboss that comes with 25 years of teaching people to ride. But he doesn't attempt to awe his guests by acting like a western movie stud. At Bent Creek, there is no Jack Palance to your Billy Crystal.

When I ask Karchuk about borrowing some cowboy boots to join the Europeans on their first few days at the ranch, he tells me I can drop the word cowboy while I'm visiting.

"They're just boots," he says with a wry smile.

Pretty much everything at the ranch shouts cowboy -- from the traditional ranch home to Karchuk's bushy moustache -- so there's no need to say the word.

Still, I have to smile when I spot Hebegger standing in the doorway of the ranch home looking like a real cowgirl wearing cowboy, er, boots and hat and jeans, and I realize the duds are brand-spanking new.

"They don't sell cowboy boots in Switzerland," she protests.

Everything Hebegger, 24, knows about life on a ranch she learned through western romance novels. Growing up reading about Indians and horses on North America's great plains, she dreamt of working at a real ranch.

Now the police officer from near Bern, Switz., has her chance to live her dream. She and Gerber are starting their five-week holiday in Canada with five days at Bent Creek, followed by five days at the Willow Lane guest ranch down the road.

Most of the guests arrive at Bent Creek on a Monday evening. As we socialize, Karchuk gets a feel for our personalities so he can match us with the right horse.

The next morning, we tuck into a pancake breakfast with bacon, fresh fruit and muesli before heading out to the nearby stables. There, Karchuk assigns us to our horses, which we will ride for the length of our stay. Hebegger gets a paint horse named Bandit. I get a Tennessee Walker named Melody.

We ride in a dusty arena beside the ranch home for the next three hours, learning basic western riding skills. We all quickly pick up how to mount and dismount our horses and get them walking.

It takes awhile to start making turns using subtle gestures with our reins and leg pressure. Our cowboy hats and long sleeves help stave off the 36 C heat, but our sweat catches the fine dust kicked up by our steeds.

It's a long morning in the saddle, but this arena work is what distinguishes Bent Creek from most guest ranches.

"We spend more time teaching horsemanship and cattle-handling," Karchuk says.

After enjoying a lunch of barbecued burgers, garden salad, cut-up veggies and home-baked cookies with tea, we take an hour-long siesta to escape the hottest part of the day.

Then all but Bywater, who is too sore, head back to the arena. There, Karchuk teaches us a few technical turns for tight places and how to jog our horses. Late in the afternoon Karchuk decides we're ready to leave the arena.

"Let's go for a little walk," he says.

We walk our horses out of the arena and through a gate in the ranch's barbed-wire fence to explore the idyllic river valley. It doesn't get more cowboy than this: big blue sky, gnarled cottonwood trees and cows lazing about in arid scrub.

The Europeans are in awe. After riding five kilometres across open valley, Hebegger says she could only ride this far in Switzerland by crossing roads and trespassing on farms.

"In Switzerland, there's nothing like this," she says.

Karchuk encourages us to fan out and pick our own paths through the scrub. There are, thankfully, no nose-to-tail trail rides here.

After ambling for an hour, we start back. Hebegger is handling her horse well, but my horse, Melody, likes to test my leadership. Karchuk reminds me to take charge when she disobeys.

"Who's the boss?" he says.

Back at the ranch for the night after six hours on a horse, we gently ease our saddle-sore behinds into chairs at the long kitchen table. We talk about which muscles hurt and the day's challenges and triumphs until it's our turn to use the downstairs shower.

"We all work, eat and talk together -- it's like a family," Hebegger says.

All of the Europeans like Karchuk's gentle way with his horses and rave about his teaching. Karchuk says he wants to teach people that their horse "can be like a dance partner."

At 7 p.m., we tuck into dinner. Not surprisingly, Kathy serves a lot of beef. But she also prepares tasty fare for any guest with a special diet if you give her a heads-up. I get my own pan of vegetarian lasagna while the other guests dine on meat lasagna.

Her delicious side dishes include potato salad, garden salad and assorted veggies. Dessert is trifle made with the morning's left-over pancakes in place of sponge cake.

Most of us are in a food coma after two helpings of dessert, and everyone is in their rooms by sundown.

Our second day starts much like the first, and we're back in the arena by 9 a.m. But all of us seem to have improved overnight. A night's rest has allowed our core and leg muscles to supply the balance we need for good horsemanship. And we seem to have absorbed most of the previous day's lessons.

At mid-morning, Karchuk leads us on a short walk. Then he gives us the treat we've all been waiting for: the chance to drive cattle.

Walking the horses over to a nearby field, we spy a small herd. Karchuk tells us to get into a horseshoe formation and approach the cattle slowly.

We can't help but smile at one another as we stalk the cattle. Staying in formation to keep the cows between us, we drive the herd to the ranch.

We're pretty pleased with ourselves by the time we corral the cattle in the arena. Then Karchuk knocks us back to earth with a new test: cutting cows from the herd.

A rancher must be able to separate cows from the herd for many reasons (i.e. branding). But each cow wants to stay in the safety of the herd, and will hide behind the others or run around a rider to get back to the herd if given the slightest chance.

We start with one cow and one rider. We have to keep the rest of the herd on one side of the arena while we move the chosen cow to the other side. When we all succeed, Karchuk starts to add more challenges. First we have to separate two cows, then three. His only aid is to let us partner with another rider.

After a late lunch, we head back to the arena to practise our skills. At 3 p.m., Karchuk gives us the option of heading in early. All but myself, Hebegger and Gerber head inside for some well-deserved rest.

After another hour, Karchuk says the horses need to rest for the night. As Hebegger brushes her horse, she peppers Karchuk with ranching questions.

That night, Karchuk tells me the guests are doing well. But he's especially impressed by Hebegger's drive to learn and her talent on horseback.

Hebegger says she would like nothing better than to have her own ranch in Alberta. But she wants to be with Gerber, and this is not his dream.

Soon Hebegger will return to her oh-so-civilized Swiss homeland, where her new cowboy boots and hat will gather dust in the closet. But she knows now that she has the chops, if not the chaps, to be a rancher.

"I am Swiss and I am a cowgirl."