And I wasn’t alone. According to a study produced by the Bureau of Business and Economic Research and the Institute for Tourism and Recreation Research at the University of Montana (commissioned and paid for by Paramount Studios), an estimated 2.1 million people visited Montana in 2021 because of the television show, spending $730 million. Not only has the show inspired trips, it’s sparked westerncore fashion trends and helped bring more than 4 million visitors to Yellowstone National Park so far this year.
To get my own taste of the “Yellowstone” life, I planned a week-long trip to Montana, with two days for cattle driving at The Resort at Paws Up, a sprawling resort with luxury ranch homes that is totally reminiscent of the Dutton homestead. I decide to start, though, at Lone Mountain Ranch in Big Sky for Cowgirl Up: five days of programming including trail rides, rodeos, and learning the ranch hand skills I had seen in the show, exclusively geared toward women. I already felt intimidated entering a world I didn’t know, and possibly didn’t belong in—I’ve traveled extensively around the world, yet in my home country it often feels like there are states that you simply don’t visit as a Black person; Montana, with a Black population percentage of 0.6%, seemed like one of them. The idea of being surrounded by women, be they experts and or fellow novices, felt safer. And for an extra dose of comfort, I brought my Mom along (even though she’s never seen an episode of “Yellowstone”).
The moment we exit the airport shuttle at Lone Mountain Ranch, a Black chaps-and-cowgirl-hat-wearing woman named Maleeah strides up to my mother and I to say hello. The first person I meet is a Black girl? I nearly weep with relief. She’s a new staff member, originally from Asheville, North Carolina. Best of all, she doesn’t even ride horses, she just works at the ranch—and looks good doing it. If she can fake it ’til she makes it, I think, maybe I can too.
We dive in at Cowgirl Up with the activity I have looked forward to the most: a cowgirl clinic, where we will learn how to barrel race (a rodeo event where horse and rider race in a cloverleaf pattern around barrels) and cattle rope. I have a little horseback riding under my belt thanks to 4-H summer camp in Virginia as a preteen, so I’m convinced I’ll be able to scoot around those barrels à la racer extraordinaire Mia (Season 3, Episode 5).
My horse has other plans. We make it through one slow round on the course, but it’s clear that barrel racing is not in my future. Dejected, I abandon my horse to practice roping the horns of a stationary plastic calf. The setting is perfect, thanks to a yawning, cloudless blue sky, and a gentle breeze blowing my hair out of my eyes—but me? I feel like an idiot. The other guests swing their looped ropes with ease, yet I can’t figure out how to flick my wrist to keep my rope from tangling. I am forced to fight the feeling I so often hate: of being a beginner. Why did I think watching a show about cowboys would make me a cowgirl? Finally, on my ninth attempt, while two fellow guests who could sense my frustration try their best to cheer me on, I swing my lasso and finally rope the calf head, sending everyone into jumps of celebrations.
Perhaps I should have remembered this from the show. Ranch life has its ups and its downs, and you never quite know which the day—or hour—will bring.
