Saddle Scenes Not Always Pretty



Anna, age 10, on Peter Paint

 When Anna was 8, Ray and I and the kids were horseback in the Jake trying to flush a couple of wild pairs out of the willows along the creek. Anna, on Peter Paint, had crossed the creek with her dad and Kristy. Clayton and I rode the other side. We couldn't see each other through the thick willow growth, but we were within hollering distance.

Everything was pretty routine, then all of a sudden Anna began to scream. My heart went up in my throat. To make matters worse, Ray was yelling, Whoa! Whoa! in that scared tone of voice that turned me to jelly. You see, Ray doesn't normally get scared. We couldn't see what was happening. All we could hear was the yelling, screaming, and crashing around. I was sending up some "Nehemiah prayers"!

It turned out that Anna had ridden onto a moose. Horses are scared of moose, and Peter Paint lit out through those swamp bumps at full throttle. He wasn't about to "whoa", so Ray had to give chase with his horse, and finally trapped him along a fence. By the grace of God, Anna rode him OK, and aside from being scared, she was fine.

That was the end of her cowgirl days though. She would still help when needed, but she never went any faster than she absolutely had to.

Another little ranch girl went through a horrible horse accident at the fair this year. Little Jo-Jo hung her spur up in a rope, and got dragged. She sustained head and facial injuries serious enough that she was life-flighted to Salt Lake City where she has undergone numerous surguries to fix her face and head. She's seeing eye specialists this week to try and figure out her vision and dizziness problems.

She's a tough little girl though, she's going to be OK. My heart goes out to her parents. That's a tough thing to deal with, and any parent that's ever watched their precious little one face a close call, knows exactly what I'm talking about.

2008 - Little Jo-Jo, in her daddy arms, and one of her twin sisters,
trot around the pen with their good old pony.

There's a benefit coming up for little Jo-Jo, and knowing the community, it should be a good time of warm, generous support.

God bless you little one!

Jo-Jo. Three years ago at the ranch.

Re-Engaging

Retirement from such a huge responsibility removes an unbelievable burden you didn't even realize you were packing, and leaves you with a great sense of relief, and a sense of freedom and adventure.

It also tempts you to leave behind all the battles you've been fighting on the political front. At least, speaking for myself. I hate conflict, and the issues that continue to eat away at the freedom to manage western lands and resources in a sustainable, economically viable, responsible manner.

Locking up our natural resources and elevating wildlife to a higher status than human beings destroys a vibrant economy. It destroys choices and opportunities for future generations who find themselves facing a local job market based on service industries, or working for the government.

This week I got a link in my email to a wolf documentary I'd contributed a photo to. It's an hour long, but I watched it anyway. I was impressed. These are local kids who've grown up, and are standing up to make a difference. They did their homework.

Oh to be young and oblivious to the kind of vicious attacks they have opened themselves up to, simply by seeking and publishing truth, and a viewpoint not popular with the liberal media's "gospel". As young David said when Goliath was challenging the Israeli army:  "Is there not a cause?" David didn't doubt for a minute that it was a cause worth taking on, because he had a God that was bigger than the whole army of Philistines. That unlikely young man faced the giant, and killed him. Here's the link to the wolf documentary: http://cryingwolfmovie.com/

I was excited to receive my 2012 "Buckaroo" Calendars from C.J. at Range Magazine. I finally got Clayton on a calendar, so he's excited too. But it also reminded me that now is not the time to ignore the issues. That won't make them go away. As long ago as the 1700's, Edmund Burke warned:  "All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing."

Enter C.J. Hadley. C.J. is a seasoned warrior on western issues fronts. This unlikely little lady with the fiery temper towards dishonesty, and a heart of gold towards "the people on America's Outback", made her way to the U.S. from England at a very young age. About 25 years or so ago, the American West captured her heart and mind and she has thrown her heart and soul into publishing a magazine that features real ranch people and families who have been stewards of the land for generations. She also publishes the unvarnished perspective of every issue attacking and threatening the very existence of  ranchers and their way of life. A life that produces food and fiber for our nation, and many others. From a harsh, unforgiving landscape that otherwise would produce nothing. Zero.

She could have retired several years ago. She's tough, she's not intimidated, she doesn't back down, and when she gets a hold of a truth she doesn't let it go. She cares. C.J., my hat's off to you for your staying power, and the service you have provided to natural resource users across the west, and the entire nation. (http://www.rangemagazine.com/) If you'd like a RANGE Real Buckaroo Calendar or subscription to RANGE, please call 1-800-RANGE-4-U (726-4348).

Furlough's been nice, but we're already back in meetings. It ain't over 'til it's over!

Change in the Air

Searching for strays during fall gather. Ray on Skipper, with Sky and Hap,

It's funny how you wake up one morning and you know you've gone from summer to fall. This year it was Sept. 2. The air is just different. It's way crisper. You leave the house with a heavier coat. Then it heats up and fries what left of the green grass, and makes you think you way overdressed. But it's gorgeous. Clean.

Fall gather. Todd and Ray on Drifter.

I love it. The horses love it. I love living in a part of the country with definite seasons. Sometimes they kind of seem to get out of order. I've seen a lot of times when all the seasons, except fall, unroll in June! When we spent summers in cowcamp, I always took my down jacket, and I wore it year round. We've seen it snow every month of the year. But regardless what the weather does, it doesn't really change the air the way fall does.


Clayton on Peter Paint and Ray on Nugget. Monitoring our Forest Service allotment.
The cows had only been in 8 days, and they asked us to move. We didn't agree. That
triggered a 3-way grazing study between the ranch, FS, and MSU.

Fall means Indian Summer is right around the corner. Crisp, cold nights, and hot dry days. Eye-popping colors around trees and water, and a muted yellow/brown palette everywhere else. The forest fire smoke lays down. I hate the haze that spoils the landscape view since they stopped managing the forests. Now God has to do it since some people don't use the brains He gave them! Guess I'd better not go there...

Morning mist over the Jake cowcamp and the creek on our way to gather upcountry.

Fall gives you more of a purpose after a long, hot, summer that saps your energy. There's more of a sense of urgency. The cows need to be gathered for weaning and shipping. Pens need to be readied for back-grounding or heifer development. Property boundaries need to be clearly marked for hunting information. Trucks need to be lined up...

Ray and the kids in our cowcamp trailer home.

And things need to be done outside that can't be done once it starts freezing, raining, or snowing. Same holds true on the home-front. Once we got everything moved, when I'd get stymied trying to get everything put away, I'd go out on the deck and work on some refinishing projects.

Ray can't figure out why I'd take on more projects when I already have more than I can get done. Well, I guess, neither can I, except maybe it's because I'm one of the world's worst procrastinators. If I ignore it for awhile, maybe it will sort itself out. Actually, that really can work pretty good sometimes. But I'm also the kind that works best under pressure. Like a quickly approaching deadline. Fall gives me a pretty good deadline!

Come to think about it, Ray and I aren't really what you'd call “spring chickens” any more either. I think we hit our “fall” this summer. There is a definite change in the air, and in our perspective. I'm looking forward to these “happy golden years”, and thank God for the reminder that winter is just around the corner. We need to be making hay while the sun shines!

“Redeeming the time, because the days are evil.” Eph. 5:16

Fair Time

Yay! They brought back "mutton-bustin" this year, and it was a hit. This
is the all-time champion. Her first one fouled her at the gate so she got a
reride. The little girl was Anna, and she rode that sheep clear across the arena.

I love a County Fair. It's still about community. A gathering place for family, friends and neighbors at the end of summer. Carnival lights and Karaoke, horses, cowboys, and kids. 4-H concession stand. Friendly competiion. A goal to work for the rest of the year.

Anna's last 4-H pig a few years back. The other 2 usually took steers, but Anna
loved her pigs. They actually were pretty fun. Nothing like
"pig personality"!

During the kids 4-H years we should have just moved to town that week. Crazy, wild, hectic. It's really more enjoyable now that we can just cruise at our own speed, come and go as we please. Eat fair food instead of packing a cooler in the tack room. At least I can. Ray's been on the Fair Board for years, and is probably there more now than when the kids were little.

The only thing I entered this year was the Team Sorting, and had a blast. I love my little mare! There were 8 or 9 teams that got a time out of 79 entered. I was on two of them. I got skunked last year, so that made my day. Saturday night we were invited to sit on the stage for the rodeo.

We live in Madison County now, so we'll have a new County Fair. I love it too. We've participated in different things there throughout the years, and I've worked as a judge there for the past few years as well, so we know lots of people here already.

I never took my camera this year. That was a mistake, because I saw some really good photo ops. Ray said I could use his, the one that resides fulltime in his truck.. He couldn't get it to work, but maybe I could. Hmm. Not even I can revive dead batteries. So... I'll just use what I can find in a hurry: more mutton bustin!

Anna's last ride. Kid's have to graduate after they're 8 yrs. old.



But Anna had lots of competition, including Kristy. This was Kristy's
last year riding sheep as well.

Flashbacks

You take what you can get when you're out in the middle of nowhere. Since

I didn't know the "Wedding March", I played "Amazing Grace" at Dick and Jay's 1986

cowcamp wedding. My kids were in the "nursery". (Folded down club cab seat)

Moving means going through everything. I'd do better if I'd just pitch boxes that haven't been opened since 3 or 4 moves ago! But they might contain treasures, or maybe my mat cutting board that seemed to have disappeared the last move. For sure they contain distracting... Flashbacks.

1986. Manager, Marion Cross, our Preacher, Steve Sturgeon, the bride and

groom, Julia and Dick Slater, Dean Deide, and...oops, senior moment...

I have found pictures I forgot I had. Priceless treasures. Funny, cute, horrible, crazy.  The other day the girls were looking at old photos with 2-yr old Braxton. I only caught a small snippet of the conversation, but it went something like this: Kristy, "Who's that?" Braxton's reply: "Anna".

 I didn't realize it, but he was looking at a picture of ME, Grandma. I'm flattered. At least Anna didn't freak out! It must have been an OLD one!

I used to sew. I came down to headquarters one night when Ray was

gone, and sewed these shirts at the kitchen table. Until 5 a.m. Guess it's
a good thing I was there. I emptied the same mousetrap 5 times that night.

Ray's been building fence, and getting ready to build an arena. Today I was going through some 1986 photos and found the ground-breaking pictures of our cowcamp arena. He's built an arena every place we've ever lived. Sometimes with help, but usually by himself.

Don Reese, Dean Deide, Clyde Kenyon, Dick Slater, and Ray
building arena at cowcamp, 1986.

At Sage Creek he turned the old lambing pen into an arena and built a roping chute.I gut bucked off there when Ray's hat flew off in front of my high strung mare. Clayton was about 3 months old, and our irrigators, Jose' and his two sons, were watching him while they watched us rope. I'll never forget as I lay there trying to pry my lungs open, how concerned they were:  "Esposa! Esposa! they yelled at Ray as he thundered on down the arena. They got to me before he did.

 At headquarters we picked rocks--and rocks--and more rocks,  in the rockiest corner pen of the feedlot. He built roping boxes and another chute. It seemed to hatch rocks everytime we used it, so mostly the kids practiced gymkhana events there where we could just clear paths instead of the whole arena.

At summer cowcamp he and the crew fenced a pen behind the barn, plowed up the sod, built roping boxes--and another roping chute. Ray and I leased a few longhorns for practice, but they had way too much to eat and ran like racehorses. Ray's heading horse was about the only one that could catch them, so we ended up putting the neck ropes on in the chute so at least the horses would figure out how to handle a rope, and that the object of the game was not just to thunder down the arena.

The very first time we used it I was ready with my camera. First I had secured my children, 1, 3, and 4. Or at least I thought I had. I had given 3-yr old Kristy a peanut butter & jelly sandwich and set her up on her old faithful horse, Old Yeller. I parked them in a corner out of the way, then went out to the middle of the arena to take photos.

I was focused on the header and heeler, but before I even realized what had happened, Old Yeller blew by me. Kristy was laying flat on her back, her PBJ still in her hand, trying to get the wind back that had been knocked out of her.

I didn't know Yeller had been a rope horse in his day! I guess even horses have flashbacks.

Breaking Out

Moving. I moved six times before marrying Ray, and even though we've spent our entire 30 years of married life on the ranch he just retired from, we moved four times there--not including moving back and forth to cowcamp for five summers when the kids were little.

I should have it down pat. But I don't. I hate it just as much now as I ever did. But, there's finally light at the end of the tunnel. We're at the "putting away" stage, and things are starting to find their place. Ray built steps off the front covered deck, and is trying to figure out how he's going to build fence. The corner he started in is a bit... gravelly. Hopefully the irrigated acreage is a little easier digging!

We took a much needed break tonight and went team-roping in our new neighborhood. It took us all of 10 minutes to get there. Love it! Sure beats one hour and 10 minutes, and the rough, tire-eating, 10 miles of gravel we used to drag the trailer over coming and going.

But the best part is, I got up my courage and entered my first team-roping in about 18 years. I didn't plan on it. My spurs and gloves aren't unpacked yet. Flash only had 3 total runs on her during practice at Leadore, and I just took her along because she needed rode. But we entered the Rookie roping. We even got a time, and Flash took her first "hit" that wasn't from branding. I'm tickled. We're breaking out!

There were 122 teams in the main roping, and Ray ended up fourth, heeling on Skipper. He's tickled too! I just love how God give us "handfuls of purpose" just to give us a lift when things threaten to bog us down. He's done that a lot lately. 

 

 

Ready to Dance

We've worked feverishly on our new place this week getting it ready. All the wood finish is done, and I re-varathaned the circular sawn flooring on the way out last night. Gorgeous! It's big enough to have a dance on! I'm ready! Anyway, we should be moved before the end of this week. I'm excited.