There's nothing like working a fence row, period.
I met one of my step-grandfathers when I was eight. He is a 3rd generation cattle rancher, and on our first meeting he gave me a horse and a dog, and put me to work. The first few summers I worked for him, I thought it amazing how his mind held the entire operation, which lines were down, what cows were where, breeding, and gestations. At that young age, it never occured to me that his livelihood depended on it, it was just magical.
Riding the fenceline here after the snowmelt takes roughly three days, just to get an overview of conditions. Always camping out under the stars and curling up with your dog at night just to stay warm. I'd asked Grampa about maybe waiting until it got warmer to go out, he said I could wait for the rattlesnakes if I wanted to, he'd pass.(spit tobacco here)
My freshman year in college, Grampa had surgery done on both knees. He couldn't swing to saddle for months, doctor's orders. I ran line for him, and the usual three days ended up taking the better part of a week. It was wonderful. Every year since, I've subtly offered to do it again, and have cut the time down considerably.
I don't know if I can describe the peace it gives you, not just from manual labor, but from knowing that no one has stood where you're standing for at least a year. No television, no telephones, no automobiles, just the earth and the sky, and your own tired self that's been cut to crap by barbed wire. You clear the detritus of the year from the lines, and the time away helps clear your head a bit as well.
I suppose the Buddhist element works there, if there is such a thing as Buddhist Boot Camp. The snarls and snags have to be dealt with, or you just don't get to go home.