Ranch sorting draws horse fans to Enumclaw

As the sun burned low in the sky, Larry Salverson sat quietly on the horse he calls Rooster, waiting his turn with the cows.

He was easy to see from the bleachers at the Enumclaw Expo Center — the yellow baseball hat, the pinstriped overalls, the oversized glasses. The announcer called his name, and into the pen Salverson went, a 70-year-old man, retired from Boeing, reliving his early days on a North Dakota farm.

"He'll probably do a little hootin' and hollerin', I'm guessing," said friend Ellie Hollmer, smiling from the sidelines.

Holler he did, along with dozens of other contestants at what may well be King County's biggest ranch sorting event, held throughout the summer at the Enumclaw Expo Center.

The competition, which started this year, draws horse lovers of all ages and skill levels to play cowboy for a night. They yell, they coax, they make kissing noises to the 11 cows, trying to move them, in numerical order, from one pen to another.

"It's a charge," said Ed Many, 43, of Maple Valley, on his first time out. "Man against beast."

Much of the maneuvering one recent night was in vain. The wrong cows got through, time and again, slipping past riders, to "oohs" and "ohhhs" from the audience.

There was no shortage of speculating on what went wrong.

"Everyone tries to ram and jam, and they never get it done," said Casey Park, 16, of Enumclaw, who rides on the competitive circuit.

Ranch sorting is tough, testing everything from a rider's skill to a horse's training to teamwork under the pressure of a clock, and in the confines of a small area. The announcer calls out a number — say, 5 — and the rider must isolate the cow with the No. 5 bib, push it into the pen, then find the cow with the next highest number, and push that cow into the pen.

The challenge is to get as many cattle into the pen as possible before a minute is up. If a cow rushes in, out of its numerical order, it's a disqualifying offense.

The competition takes its cues from real farm work, where cowboys sort cattle by size or gender. Event organizer Duane Hebert did that kind of work for decades, working on ranches all over the Midwest.

He says the key is reading the cows. The ones with their ears perked, or their heads tilted up — those are the ones most likely to run. Others will try to hide in the middle of the pack, their heads bowed, hoping they won't be found.

"Basic rule of thumb, being a cowboy all my life: The faster the cattle are, the slower you work 'em," Hebert said. "The slower they are, the faster you want to get."

Blast from the past

These may be tricks of the trade, but the trade is not so popular anymore in Western Washington, where dairy farms are dying and cattle ranches are scant. In these parts, ranch sorting is more of a sport. A friendly, laid-back kind of sport, where parents and children can play partners, no problem at all.

"It's a blast from our past," said Hebert, who now works as a horse trainer. "People really feel like they're cowboys."

Hebert moved to Enumclaw a few years ago from Northern California. For a while, he held free sorting events on his property. Then this spring, he gathered some sponsors and took it to the Enumclaw Expo Center, formerly the King County Fairgrounds.

Which is just where the city of Enumclaw would like it to be. The city took over the fairgrounds from the county last summer, with plans to build a new equestrian center, along with a tourist-information center nearby. It's part of a plan to make Enumclaw, a tiny city near Mount Rainier, into a destination for horse lovers.

So far, so good, with the ranch sorting event, which extends through September. On a recent weeknight, it lasted 4-½ hours on the strength of a sign-up list. About 80 horse owners were there, from teenage girls to middle-age men who grew up on farms. Fans sat cheering in bleachers and perched on the weathered wood of the fence.

"It's addicting"

Rick Hollmer of Des Moines was there for moral support. A few members of his horse club, the Green River Saddle Club, were participating for the first time.

Fun to watch, announced Hollmer, 63, but not really his thing. No matter how low-key, this event still has competition.

Hollmer prefers to play more leisurely horse games, the ones where you throw water balloons at each other, or you put a dollar between your thigh and the horse, and see which person rides the longest without letting the dollar fall.

"No clock, no first place," he said. "But that's me."

Kim Strassburg of Orting is a different sort altogether. She is all about the competition. She likes making noise out there. She likes the thrill of the chase.

And what a nice thing, she said, that it comes cheap. Where rodeos can cost $300 per event, the ranch sorting event charges $30 for four tries.

"It's addicting, oh my God," said Strassburg, 39, who had her daughter, Samantha, as her partner. "When you make a sweet move, it's everything."

Samantha, 9, got her first "clean" cow Thursday night, moving it from one pen to another without her horse nipping it, or another cow bolting ahead. By far, the highlight of her night.

The highlight of her mother's night: watching it happen.

Cara Solomon: 206-464-2024 or csolomon@seattletimes.com