That was good news. We trailed 12 miles yesterday, several of which were right up the highway. By the time we stopped for the day, a lot of the calves were pretty tender-footed. Today we planned to go 15 miles, including a narrow canyon along a thickly brushed creek. If it was hot, it would be a bugger trying to keep the calves moving since they'd all be trying to get to the creek, and hide in the brush.
It turned out to be a perfect day to trail. It was cool and cloudy, then sure enough, we got our scattered shower. Ray had tied on a slicker, and being the fine gentleman cowboy that he is, he gave it to me. The shower spit on us for a few minutes, then the sun came out. When we stopped to let cows and calves mother-up before entering the canyon, it was starting to heat up, so I left our coats and slicker in a truck that was following us to drive us home.
The last 2 or 3 miles of the trail we headed through open sage country. The sky was pretty dramatic and the pairs were moving along nicely, so I got my camera out. I take most of my working photos horseback, and Flash (Maresy) usually cooperates really well. But not today. Maresy would not stand still. She was nervous and a little high strung--kind of like our border collie, Hap, when he senses a thunderstorm coming. That thought did cross my mind, but since I was engrossed in the changing sky, I didn't pay much attention to what those changes meant--or to my mare.
We needed to pick up the pace because we were about to get caught. I put my camera away, and went back to work. We were only about 3/4 of a mile from the gate, and the lead was about 1/2 mile. Ray headed up a big hill to turn back a cow that was headed off in the wrong direction. Several more cows appeared, so I followed Ray to help. Topping out on the hill, we saw the whole tail-end making the wrong turn, and they weren't wasting any time.
The rain hit with gusto. Maresy only wanted to go the same direction as the cows--with the storm at our backs. I managed to get her mind back to her work--at least until the hail hit. Ray rode up when he saw I was having trouble. He told me I better be ready to ride, because she was freaking out. She reared up, and as I fumbled with my reins to get a tighter hold, I dropped my right rein. By then Ray was hollering that I just needed to get off. I tended to agree. I pulled her head around to the left and as I swung my leg over, she jumped out from under me, pulled the rein out of my hand, and headed out, with Ray in hot pursuit.
The two guys behind us had their hands full just trying to keep the herd together. Forget turning them--just hope to get them bent before they hit the fence. The rain was pouring, it was thundering, lightning, and hailing. Tell stopped to make sure I was OK, and to hand me his oilskin parka. The lead had now become the tail-end, so we also had those 2 riders for help. Fortunately the hail quit, because it wasn't looking like the fence was going to stop anything, including Flash. She just ran through Ray and his horse like she was some kind of rodeo bronc. He finally got her stopped at the fence.
Things quieted down. Everyone was totally drenched, but it was only about a 15 minute trail down the fence to the gate. Ray gave me a bit of rope that would work for the rein she'd lost. I didn't have to think about it too long. I was probably packing about 20 pounds extra since my chinks, boots, and everything else were soaked, plus I had that huge, heavy parka. I could just picture me wallowing my way up into that wet saddle on that buzzed-up mare, and decided I liked the ground better. Just as well. We got another wave of storm, and even though I was still walking forward leading her, Flash had turned tail to the storm, and was marching up the hill backwards, deftly working her way around sage brush and holes. She is quite amazing!
Well, at least now I know about that little quirk, and will be a little better prepared for future "scattered thundershowers". She's a lot like Hap I guess. If he's out when it thunders in the distance, he's gone. He used to run 10 miles to hide in the shop at headquarters. Now that we've moved, he runs past several neighbors to go to the Vet Hospital about 5 miles away. Why he chose that particular refuge is beyond me, unless it has something to do with the amount of concrete.
When the storm hit us, Ray said "Sure! You put my coat and slicker in the truck". When it was over I said, "Aren't you glad you have a dry jacket in the truck?"
And I didn't get any pictures of the storm. Number one, I didn't want to wreck my camera; but mostly because it was tied on to my saddle, so Flash took it with her.
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| This was the view directly behind us, and the photo of the black cloud--taken a few seconds apart. |
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In the dark of the midnight have I oft hid my face,
While the storm howls above me, and there's no hiding place.
'Mid the crash of the thunder, Precious Lord, hear my cry,
Keep me safe till the storm passes by.
Chorus:
Till the storm passes over, till the thunder sounds no more,
Till the clouds roll forever from the sky;
Hold me fast, let me stand in the hollow of Thy hand,
Keep me safe till the storm passes by.
Mark 4:39
"And he arose, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea,
Peace be still. And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm."
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