Why Hike the AT? | Leaving the Business | LC83 Code
About the Lucky Cowboy
 To the chagrin of a new hiker, or what some call "bear bait" (in Louisiana it's "gator bait"), not much is worse than an unflattering trail name, assigned by a hiker with a sour sense of humor.
Hikers challenging the length of the Appalachian Trail should brand themselves with a fitting trail name before they hit the trail. Trail names are a rich component of hiker culture, especially along the AT. And most will agree, it’s better to name oneself that to leave your namesake to whims of another.
What I find interesting about trail culture, especially trail names, is the parallel with Internet culture. AOL screen names take the same form as trail names, They are self assigned and tend to reflect the character of its subject.
In case you haven’t figured it out yet, Lucky Cowboy is my trail name, a nickname given by a friend. She was a hell of a dancer and taught me a few things about two-stepping and the cowboy polka. If you’re a man and you can dance, then you’ll have no trouble attracting company at a club where the ladies have slim pickings if they want to dance. We both got a kick out of the nickname, and I felt it was fitting for the trail.
I won’t be so bold to claim that I am a real cowboy. Most real cowboys, cowboy culture purists and historians would dispute such a claim, unless maybe I straddled rodeo bulls, mended ranch fences or branded cattle fairly often. “You aint no cowboy” would be the response.
On the other hand, I would say I do live life in the spirit of the cowboy, at least the romantic portrait of a cowboy. My favorite characterization is one quote from Walter Prescott Webb, a Texas author and historian.
“Something romantic about him. He lives on horseback as do Bedouins; he fights on horseback, as did the knights of chivalry; he goes armed with a strange new weapon which he uses ambidextrously and precisely; he swears like a trooper, drinks like a fish, wears clothes like an actor, and fights like a devil. He’s gracious to ladies, reserved toward strangers, generous to his friends and brutal to his enemies. He is a cowboy…”
I find the greatest truth, at least in my life, in the last two lines, while occasionally the others apply as well!
As far back as I can remember, I’ve reveled in the romantic image of the cowboy, the one portrayed in cinema. After all, that’s the only cowboy a 5-year-old from the city knew. My mother and father loved drive-in movies and it was always a treat when I could tag along. Of course, I missed the steamy love stories. (Darn!) But, I did get front row seats to all the Spaghetti Westerns.
As I grew up, my love of westerns grew. That interest evolved into a greater interest in authentic cowboy culture.
One of the first surprises I found was in The Cowboy Way. Edited by Paul H. Carlson's, the book presents arguments that some would describe the cowboy a little differently. It's portrayal of the real cowboy of the American West did not fit with the one I'd known. He’s a hired hand that worked for low wages. He’s depicted as a “lazy, shiftless, celibate, free-spirited, unsophisticated, stubborn, and antisocial,” not at all flattering.
I suppose cowboys, like other classes of people, saddle up on the side of good and bad alike. That may be the reality of it. However, Americans don't always embrace reality. We are optimists and we love to have heroes and be heroes. Often reality imitates art.
Realists might dub the cowboy as a dirty and dull working stiff. But when you’re a 5-year-old kid looking for adventure, a hero and something to be when you grow up, the romanticized cowboy of the cinema suits a boy just fine. Send this Page to a Friend!
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