Yeeeeehaaah!   That virile sound,  with variations,  is quite known as the primal scream of the American West.   Yeeeeehaaah!
A sound deeply rooted in the raw dynamics of a Gay Cowboy's broad chest and throat.   A sound stronger and more meaningful than the neigh of a mustang in a desert canyon, a holler on the floor of the New York Stock exchange, or even a cheer from a football fan in Dallas, Texas.   It is a masculine,  out-of-doors sort of unhampered male utterance.   It is the sound of freedom, of the lusty drive to get on with the day's work or the night's play.

A lot of sunshine put that famous squint into the Cowboy's eye,  and a lot of prairie wind tanned his handsome, young face.   That hat and those fancy boots were not what made him look like a Gay Cowboy.   It was the elements,  the dust,  the horse smell, sharing the blanket on cold nights,  and the camp chuck ( beef, beans and potatos ), dished up at 3:00am, 9:30am and 6:00pm,  that trully branded him.

The strong ass and bowed legs of a nude man drying off from a rare bath in town were always a sign of the Cowboy life. From his earliest boyhood, when not sitting on a chair, he sat on a horse.   A journey outdoors rarely exceeded the ten feet between the house door and the horse rack.   Riding being such a habit, a projected trip to another building, some two hundred feet away, would send the cowboy directly into the saddle.

It was the horse that lifted a man into the realm of a hero.   The Knights of the Round Table,  the Paladins of Charlemagne,  the Crusaders,  all rode into history on their charging steeds.
It is no wonder that today,  in such a mechanized,  fast-paced world, that we think fondly of a man with his hands on the rein,  as he sits firm in the saddle.    Fighting prairie fires,  the dangers of stampedes,  the loneliness of range riding,   the discomforts of standing guard in the rain or snow...   none of these things seemed unusual, if the Gay Cowboy could do them from the back of a horse.   He would hate to open a gate unless he could lean over and do it from the saddle.

In Paris 1934,  an author Paul Coze once wrote "Sans cheval, pas de cow-boy",   without a horse, no cowboy.   There was though a price to pay. Nature did subtract some symmetry from their legs and weakened their ankles, creating the famous gait similar to that of a sailor ashore, with the added clink/chank from the spurs.   But the Gay Cowboy could easily flip another man like a grain sack and ride him like a bucking bronco.

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