“Nope… You’re gonna die if you’re waiting for me to come get you,” Lupe said.

Harsh? Maybe. But, these are men who know each other’s capabilities and never miss a chance to give each other a hard time. These are also men who are hyper-focused on executing a fairly dangerous job to begin with and 30 minutes prior to this Henry Garcia and Lupe Gonzales were weaving through the thick brush of Live Oak County about to get started - they just didn’t know it yet.

If you’ve ever been to a rodeo, you’ve heard an announcer explain how it all got started. You’ll hear them discuss how professional cowboys on the ranch would argue about who could ride the worst bronc the longest, who could rope and doctor the most calves, who had the nicest horse, etc. Those announcers are right, but long after the sport of rodeo got organized, the competitions on the ranch continued - and they were in FULL SWING in Whitsett, TX in the early 80’s.

Marion Knight was back at camp cooking up dinner with a broken leg. Earlier that afternoon he had informed the cow crew that they would all play “little Mary” and help him out, or else go hungry. So, 15 cowboys were milling around helping get grub on the table, but their conversation was fixated on who was going to rope the most wild shippers the next day. Making “the board” was good, but now things had gotten serious. The contest was on - and the winner got the bottle of whiskey.

Everybody would drink it. Heck, the winner might not even get a shot when 15 men are sharing. But the winner would know. And everyone else there would know, too… whose whiskey they were sipping.

Well Lupe and Henry were coming out of the brush and about to come up on a sendero when they hit a big bull yearling. Everybody knows how important it is to work together. The job comes first. BUT… everybody wanted to get the most roped that day too. Nothing wrong with a friendly competition - the race was on!

Rocks and dust were flying now that these cowboys finally have a spot to line out that bull and get him roped. They were both running wide open. The young hungry Henry was hell bent on getting the first pitch, but he hadn’t been on this ranch as much as Lupe had been. He rolled by him in a cloud of dust not a bit worried about the fact that Lupe was slowing down on purpose. He may not have even noticed that the more experienced cowboy had been pulling on his reins and bringing his bay mare down to a slow lope.

About that time that bull yearling made a hard right. The elevation changed and sloped down real hard as Henry tracked the bull almost straight down and then into one of the many natural water sources on the Santa Rita Ranch. They were moving fast and he was 20 yards in before he even knew he was wet. He was real handy though - and he was even more determined. He stayed after that bull even in the water.

Meanwhile, Lupe was walking. He was easing around the tank like he was on a trail ride. That bull would get nervous with Henry behind him and speed up. Lupe would ease into a trot. The young bull would pause and Lupe would pause. He was just walking - watching and walking.

Henry was drowning.

Things had turned sideways for Henry as the water got deeper and deeper. He couldn’t swim and began to holler at Lupe to help him out.

“Nope… You’re gonna die if you’re waiting for me to come get you,” Lupe said. “Relax. Trust that grey mare. Just hold on to her and she’ll bring you out of there.” She did. But not before Henry got fighting mad about not receiving help. Plus, he never got a pitch at that bull. He hazed him right to the water’s edge where the other cowboy was now standing. Lupe just bent over and put the rope on.

One for Lupe.

I don’t know who won the bottle of whiskey because that part of the story never gets told by these guys. I think it’s because nobody really cared about the whiskey. The competition could have been for a rock and nothing would have been any different. It was about the test of skill, bragging rights, camaraderie and the memories.

Oh yeah ….
Henry got to the tank first and was certain that if it had not been there, that bull was all his. Of course Lupe disagreed. A horse race was quickly organized. Don Sachtleben was the Game Warden in Beeville at the time and was on this particular trip to Whitsett. He retold this part of the story best.

“Sooner or later the ultimate question will arise. Henry said his mare was faster than Lupe’s. The race was run after a few friendly bets and several bad starts. Lupe’s mare won by daylight. I lost a dollar.”
~ Don Sachtleben