Why don't these oysters have shells?

Things I did for fun this weekend:

• Drove through Gates Pass, occasionally whooping to myself over the more dramatic dips and twists. Then I decided that it was so much fun that I did went back and did it again, with a break to watch the sunset and moonrise from Saguaro National Park. I also decided that the bicyclists who take the pass are freaky masochists. Nice legs though.
  
• Rode horseback through the Sonoran desert until a lot of my bits were sore and/or chafed. Which is absolutely not your fault, Snip, and thank you for handling those insane slopes without making me want to cry. Also thank you for not running yourself into a barrel cactus and dooming yourself to euthanasia because the hook-shaped spines would work their way inward and ruin your joints, a new and exciting thing our guide taught me to worry about.
  
• Got up before the sun to tack up and ride out to round up cattle and then help body-slam the calves and hold them down for vaccinations, ear tags, and the ever-popular branding. For interesting times, I cannot but recommend leaning your entire body weight on a highly agitated cow while someone wielding hot pieces of rebar tries to sear it and not you. Before I do that again, some serious weight training is in order. Likewise some serious weight gain, because inertia is your friend when you're tackling a panicked bovine.
  
• Remembered yet again that even inexpensive beer is nectar when you're hot and covered with dust.
  

Things I did not do this weekend:

• Lose any teeth to kicks from adrenaline-filled calves. Danny said that someone got whacked in the face last year and hasn't been back since. Wuss. But telling us that story ensured that we were all careful about leaning back whenever we let go of a calf.
  
• Find the missing clues for finding the Jesuit treasure that, according to legend, is buried not far from Peck Canyon. Personally, I think this sounds a little too much like the Lost Dutchman's Gold thing from the Superstition Mountains and that Arizonans have hit on a nifty way to get rid of irritating members of society. "There's gold in them thar hills. Follow these incredibly vague clues about lining up the Needle's Eye with the cross carved on the wall that we can't find, and don't come back. I mean, don't come back until you find it."
  
• Wind up kissing any of the following: the ground, ocotillo, cholla, mesquite (a glancing smooch from the saddle doesn't count, though my t-shirt begs to differ), prickly pear, or barrel cactus. Damn but Arizona is home to some pointy flora. As for the fauna, I was reminded of the confession in A Canticle for Liebowitz: "Bless me, Father, I ate a lizard."
  
• Eat prairie oysters, Montana tendergroins, Rocky Mountain oysters, cowboy caviar, or anything else made of calf testicles, despite assurances from one of the other guests that they are delicious as part of an asado. Since Danny doesn't castrate his calves, preferring to let them get big and ornery so he can sell them for rodeo work, we would've had to make a special trip. I cannot say that I am disappointed.