09/07/2026
๐๐ฎ๐ฏ๐ธ๐ป๐ฎ ๐ถ๐ธ๐ผ๐ฝ ๐ธ๐ฏ ๐๐ถ๐ฎ๐ป๐ฒ๐ฌ๐ช ๐๐ช๐ด๐ฎ๐ผ ๐พ๐น ๐ธ๐ท ๐๐ช๐ซ๐ธ๐ป ๐๐ช๐, ๐ผ๐ธ๐ถ๐ฎ๐๐ฑ๐ฎ๐ป๐ฎ ๐ช ๐ฌ๐ธ๐๐ฐ๐ฒ๐ป๐ต ๐ฒ๐ผ ๐ช๐ต๐ป๐ฎ๐ช๐ญ๐ ๐๐ธ๐ป๐ด๐ฒ๐ท๐ฐ.
Sheโs pulled on yesterdayโs jeans in the dark, poured coffee sheโll probably forget to finish, and fed horses before she fed herself.
Some cattle donโt know itโs a holiday. A fence that still needs fixing. Hay that needs to be put up. A sick calf that doesnโt care what the calendar says.
And a family is counting on her somewhere in the middle of all of it.
Thatโs the thing about this way of life: the work has never really been measured in hours.
Itโs measured in early mornings and late nights. In calloused hands and tired horses. In meals reheated after everyone else has eaten. In miles driven, gates opened, babies carried, calves pulled, horses saddled and promises kept.
Itโs measured in generations.
Because long before us, there were women doing this same work.
Women who rode beside the men, raised the babies, kept the books, tended the livestock, held families together and helped build the American West.
Some of their names made history. Most didnโt.
But their fingerprints are everywhere. And maybe thatโs part of why Art of the Cowgirl means so much to us.
For a few days each year, we get to bring those women together.
The ranchers. The horsewomen. The makers. The competitors. The mothers and daughters. The women carrying old traditions and the young girls dreaming about carrying them next.
We get to sit beside one another, learn from one another, cheer for one another and remember that while this life can sometimes feel pretty lonely, we were never meant to do it alone.
๐ง๐ต๐ถ๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ฏ๐ผ๐ฟ ๐๐ฎ๐, ๐๐ฒ ๐ฐ๐ฒ๐น๐ฒ๐ฏ๐ฟ๐ฎ๐๐ฒ ๐๐ต๐ฒ ๐ต๐ฎ๐ป๐ฑ๐ ๐๐ต๐ฎ๐ ๐ฏ๐๐ถ๐น๐ ๐๐ต๐ถ๐ ๐ฐ๐ผ๐๐ป๐๐ฟ๐.
And especially the cowgirls who are still getting up before daylight to keep a little piece of it going.
Come be part of this community in 2027.๐ค
Tickets to Art of the Cowgirl 2027 are on sale now.
https://artofthecowgirl.com/buy-tickets/
