Here we are, almost to the July 4th holiday weekend, and I can't believe its the middle of summer already. June has been a bit damp (ie really soggy) and the Yellowstone River is running above flood stage. Great for rafting, but I would second guess putting into the River when there are whole trees floating by at 30mph. I've been successful at keeping Ryder out of the river. He's a strong swimmer, but no match for the Yellowstone at flood stage.
The trees have all greened up, and L-Town is gearing up for the big July 3rd Parade. If you aren't in the parade, you are watching it and its a wonderful community event. People set up chairs on the parade route literally the night before to get a good spot. Last year the Parade Grand Marshall was Ted Turner. A lot of people were unhappy about that because he has a huge ranch that is a refuge for buffalo and wolves. Them's fighting words in big sky country.
This town turns out for a parade! Horses all decked out in leather and silver, classic cars and floats all made by hand. The Rodeo is also in town over the holiday weekend. I've lived here 5 years, and still have not attended a rodeo. I can get on my own bucking horse, thank you very much. It's fun to see real cowboys (like we don't already have those) strutting around downtown. You can tell they are rodeo cowboys by the big hats and wranglers tucked into knee-high boots. The Rodeo is a community event, however I don't feel compelled to attend to watch horses and bulls with ropes around their tender spots forcing them to buck. So I stay home and keep my mouth shut. I LIKE living here. Folks still think of me as the liberal from back east, so I know when keep my mouth shut about things like a rodeo.
Summertime in L-town brings the tourists, which is a gift for everyone who has a business, guide service or hotel. You can really tell who the tourists are. They are the ones with the cameras around their necks, craning their heads to look up at Sleeping Giant, or the neon lights and the historic facades of downtown L-town. Traffic is a problem during tourist season. You have to actually wait at stop signs and the three traffic lights we have are always busy.
I bitch and moan about 9 months of winter, however for the three months of summer we get, L-town is Mayberry. Kids playing, I ride my bike everywhere and it doesn't get dark until 10pm. I guess after 9 months of winter, Mother Nature takes pity on us and gives us crystal clear blue skys, high temps - it was 90 yesterday but the wind kept it cooler - and every reason to get out of the house.
The kids love our walks in the morning and evening. Ryder be-lines it to the lagoon and jumps in as soon as he sees water. Thank goodness for the lagoon-the river is running way too high for him and I wouldn't want an unhappy teenage Lab underfoot without access to water. Princess Lucy dips her tiny feet into the water and calls it for lack of interest. She does urge Ryder on when he is swimming towards the bank after fetching the ball I have thrown with that high pitched happy yip of hers. She wants to be part of the party, but hasn't figured out that means getting wet. And she is above fetching.
Thanks for reading!
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Middle Age Rant
I woke myself up snoring. I know, embarrassing isn’t it? There are so many embarrassing things that happen when you become “over 50”. Farting. Yes, I admit, I fart, or toot when I walk as a friend told me once. I’m finding hair in the drain and I know its mine. What’s with the hair loss? I thought that was going to be my son’s cross to bear, but genetics don’t lie. Hair in places it has no right to be. As a woman, to contemplate shaving over plucking because it doesn’t take as much time is just sad.
Back in the day, oh, when I was 40, things were beginning to make sense. I had this body and I could shape it any way I wanted. Now in my early 50’s, after 2 years of rigourous gym visits, I’m a bit firmer but still 10lbs overweight. Back when I was 40, I could do anything and go anywhere. Everything had adventure potential, due in part to the fact I had to do something to shake my life up. I left my home, family, a good job, friends, and pointed my little Toyota Celica west, with my big german shepard, Kia, in the back seat. No fear. A lot of anticipation, but no fear.
Today I am 51 years old. There is something about the virtual approach of middle age that I can’t get my brain around. I need to start to acting in my 50’s right? What does that actually look like? My mother at 50 was (and remains) stylish, thin, in fantastic shape and active. I, like my mother and my grandmother, refuse to go quietly or without style. Style has become a big issue for me lately. I’m in my 50’s-what exactly is my style? Finding the answer to this very important question of the universe has become very important to me in my encroaching middle age.
I’m classic, with a bit of hippy chick thrown in under all the heavy coats with colorful scarves that I have to wear during 9 months of drab winter. Function over style. I hate that. I want to wear the cute things I could get away with when I was 40. Tight jeans. Tank tops. Big belts and cute shoes. There is no cause for tank tops when its below 10 degrees 9 months out of the year. Plus the hips are spreading, the stomach is pouching and the thighs are rubbing. Ouch.
I appreciated my 40’s. I came to terms with the fact I was smarter than the work I was doing. I wanted to make a bit of a difference in this world, so I took off to work in economic development in Blanding Utah for 2 years as a Vista volunteer. Blanding Utah, population 3,500 souls, didn’t have as many people in 17 sq miles, as the building where I worked in Fairfax Va. What a life experience. I never doubted I could do it, and do it well. I never doubted that it wouldn’t work out. There is a lot of power being 40 years old.
As I approach being over 50 however, my options seem to become more limited. To think about packing up and moving somewhere else is no longer an interesting idea. I find myself wanting to be grounded. I want a house with my stuff in it, as compared to a space that I occupy for a little bit. I’m afraid that I’m reaching my expiration date with job opportunities, men and energy. I feel like I’m at the top of my game professionally, but yielding points in looks. Ok, I am vain enough to be concerned about my looks. Overnight the eyes seemed to get creppie, laugh lines more pronounced and turkey wings that I am blessed to have will forever be my nemisis.
There are things that work with being over 50. I don’t take any crap from anyone, and all of a sudden I find myself being the oldest one in the room, rather than the other way around. With age comes wisdom, one hopes. If you ask my opinion, I will tell you and even if you don’t ask, I’ll probably tell you anyway. I am confident in this body that it will keep me healthy for many many years to come. I just want to look good getting there.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Do Your Dream
When I was a poor VISTA in Utah, I found a bumper sticker that said "Do your dream". I love that and find it very empowering. Taking some responsibility for your life with all the good and bad choices that have been made, makes it all about intention.
I would like to think I live a life of good intentions. I have screwed up royally on more occassions than you can count, but like riding a horse, I lick my wounds and come back with a bounce. And scars.
I rode in the DC AIDS ride in 1999. That was a turning point for me, and the beginning of doing my dream. Raleigh NC to DC, 375 miles in 4 days. Two of those days were a century (100 miles). My personal best was 75 miles a day. The great thing about that experience was that I set out to do something, and maybe didn't do as well as a lot of people, but I completed the ride. Kicked my ass but I finished. The lessons I gained from that experience are priceless, with the most important lesson being I can do whatever I set my mind to. My mantra during that ride was "the road ahead, the power within".
After the Ride, I began to re-evaluate my life. I was turning 40 and this was my mid-life crisis. I didn't go out and buy a Porsche, I left my life and started over again as a VISTA in bet you can't find it on a map, Blanding Utah. The day I had everything I owned in front of my house for a yard sale was the scariest day of my life. Well, one of the scariest days. My girlfriend came to help out and I hardly recognized her. She said I looked like a deer in the headlights. I made enough money to make the trip with my german shepard, Kia, to middle of nowhere Utah so I guess it's true that one persons' stuff is another persons' treasure.
Everyone thought I should carry a gun for my trip across the country. I don't like guns and at the time had never come close to one. I just replied Look at this dog! Who is going to mess with me with this german shepard in the shotgun seat? Kia is one of my life's tragedies. I had no business owning a german shepard. She came from a backyard breeder and was so anxious that she was fierce. I never had her off the lead around other people. No one was going to mess with me with that dog on the end of a lead.
In Utah I had a little bit of a house with a lot of space around it. One day I was sitting in a plastic chair, reading, with Kia on the end of the lead attached to the chair. I got up to get a glass of water, and heard the chair move. A very kind Morman lady had come by to visit, and Kia bit her. For no reason at all. I was horrified. She went to the doctor, he had to report it and the cops came by for a visit. They gave me two options: either I get her out of town, or they were going to shoot her. I couldn't in good conscious give her to someone else because I knew it would happen again. So I took her to the vet, who was really a big animal vet, and had her put down. My VISTA friends were amazing to me throughout the whole ordeal.
The absolute worst part was my boy was coming to visit and I had to tell him what happened to Kia. Two of my VISTA friends went with me to pick him up at the airport and about 5 minutes into the ride back to Blanding, he asks about Kia. I pulled off the road, took him for a walk, and told him what had happened. Three days later we got Georgie the Wonderdog.
After living under the poverty level for 2 years, I needed to find a sustainable job. Utah was out of the question, so I went to New Mexico where I talked my way into a Main Street position. I had never heard of the Main Street program before I applied for the job. I talked my way into it, and once again, was doing my dream. I was running a program that meant something to a community and I was living and working near the Navajo Reservation. I was still feeling connected.
Now that I have made my way to Montana, it occurred to me that when I was younger, I wanted to go to MSU and live in Montana. I am still doing my dream only this time, my bumper sticker says "well behaved women rarely make history". Try using that as an example when asked "What made me think I knew what I was doing?" to a group of Shriners, all over the age of 70 and 4th generation Montanan's. I was there to present the City's streetscape program to them. That was a tough room.
Thanks for reading!
I would like to think I live a life of good intentions. I have screwed up royally on more occassions than you can count, but like riding a horse, I lick my wounds and come back with a bounce. And scars.
I rode in the DC AIDS ride in 1999. That was a turning point for me, and the beginning of doing my dream. Raleigh NC to DC, 375 miles in 4 days. Two of those days were a century (100 miles). My personal best was 75 miles a day. The great thing about that experience was that I set out to do something, and maybe didn't do as well as a lot of people, but I completed the ride. Kicked my ass but I finished. The lessons I gained from that experience are priceless, with the most important lesson being I can do whatever I set my mind to. My mantra during that ride was "the road ahead, the power within".
After the Ride, I began to re-evaluate my life. I was turning 40 and this was my mid-life crisis. I didn't go out and buy a Porsche, I left my life and started over again as a VISTA in bet you can't find it on a map, Blanding Utah. The day I had everything I owned in front of my house for a yard sale was the scariest day of my life. Well, one of the scariest days. My girlfriend came to help out and I hardly recognized her. She said I looked like a deer in the headlights. I made enough money to make the trip with my german shepard, Kia, to middle of nowhere Utah so I guess it's true that one persons' stuff is another persons' treasure.
Everyone thought I should carry a gun for my trip across the country. I don't like guns and at the time had never come close to one. I just replied Look at this dog! Who is going to mess with me with this german shepard in the shotgun seat? Kia is one of my life's tragedies. I had no business owning a german shepard. She came from a backyard breeder and was so anxious that she was fierce. I never had her off the lead around other people. No one was going to mess with me with that dog on the end of a lead.
In Utah I had a little bit of a house with a lot of space around it. One day I was sitting in a plastic chair, reading, with Kia on the end of the lead attached to the chair. I got up to get a glass of water, and heard the chair move. A very kind Morman lady had come by to visit, and Kia bit her. For no reason at all. I was horrified. She went to the doctor, he had to report it and the cops came by for a visit. They gave me two options: either I get her out of town, or they were going to shoot her. I couldn't in good conscious give her to someone else because I knew it would happen again. So I took her to the vet, who was really a big animal vet, and had her put down. My VISTA friends were amazing to me throughout the whole ordeal.
The absolute worst part was my boy was coming to visit and I had to tell him what happened to Kia. Two of my VISTA friends went with me to pick him up at the airport and about 5 minutes into the ride back to Blanding, he asks about Kia. I pulled off the road, took him for a walk, and told him what had happened. Three days later we got Georgie the Wonderdog.
After living under the poverty level for 2 years, I needed to find a sustainable job. Utah was out of the question, so I went to New Mexico where I talked my way into a Main Street position. I had never heard of the Main Street program before I applied for the job. I talked my way into it, and once again, was doing my dream. I was running a program that meant something to a community and I was living and working near the Navajo Reservation. I was still feeling connected.
Now that I have made my way to Montana, it occurred to me that when I was younger, I wanted to go to MSU and live in Montana. I am still doing my dream only this time, my bumper sticker says "well behaved women rarely make history". Try using that as an example when asked "What made me think I knew what I was doing?" to a group of Shriners, all over the age of 70 and 4th generation Montanan's. I was there to present the City's streetscape program to them. That was a tough room.
Thanks for reading!
Thursday, June 9, 2011
For the Love of a Cold Nose
Ryder, the ginormous gallumpus of a yellow lab has trained us perfectly. I'm the early riser in the family. I'd like to think that's by choice because I love the early morning, however lately it's become Ryder's choice. Princess Lucy of Livingston is more than happy to stay at the foot of the bed, warm and cozy, until one of us is ready to move. When Ryder's ready to go, he can be very persistent.
It starts around 5am. Every morning, 5am. This morning, he was off by 10 minutes and it was actually 4:50am. Trust me, I looked. A little bit of light is coming out, but its still Oh-Dark Hundred when he is ready to go.
Both of us are bone tired, and sleeping thru the entire night has become a daily challenge. When Oh-Dark Hundred comes around, its by way of a slight snuffle, and a cold nose gently nudging me. And its always me. He doesn't go to Jeff's side unless he's really frustrated with me. Ugghh, really? So I tell him to go lay down, which he does using all his 100lbs and flopping on the floor, loudly.
So, we're all up, but not moving anytime soon. Just a few more minutes, which Ryder graciously gives, until he's back with his cold nose nudging me, this time with a sloppy puppy kiss. Now I have to move, because he's doing his happy dance and knows slobber will get me moving every time.
Downstairs we go, and the two of them go out in the semi-darkness. Lucy will keep up with Ryder until she drops. I buy bones larger than her head, and she will get it away from the big guy and not let it go until she's good and ready. They make their early morning outting quick, because they know Mom will have breakfast ready for them. I seriously feed the dogs before I even get coffee started. There's a lot to be said of being a pup's human.
Lucy is a very delicate eater. She doesn't slurp or slobber. She neatly picks out the good stuff and licks the bowl, quietly. Ryder on the other hand, has no manners. None. It drives Jeff crazy that Ryder slurps, loudly, whatever he is inhaling in his bowl, or a bowl of water. He sprays water everywhere and snout still dripping, will come for a head nudge. Now that its getting warmer, the water bowl stays outside in the hopes that when he comes in, he won't be dripping. Ever the optimist.
When it rains, its a good day in our house because Mom has a TOWEL, and isn't afraid to use it. They both love the towel rubbing after they come in from a steady rain. Princess Lucy doesn't swim, and sorta minds getting wet, but she loves that towel. I swear they go outside during a downpour, just because they know the towel would be waiting.
Georgie the Wonder Dog was smart, but Ryder, the Ginormous Gallumpus, is really smart and learns real quick what works for HIM, like the whole morning ritual. He can be annoyingly happy. The front paws start his happy dance, the tongue comes out for puppy kisses, and get him near a body of water, and you have puppy heaven.
Lucy, on the other hand, loves feet. She is the perfect footstool. So long as you keep gently rubbing her back with your foot, she will stay there for hours. If you get tired of rubbing her back with your foot, and bring the other foot up, she will move to reposition herself under said foot. And she groans with pleasure when she gets a foot rub back rub. I think she'd purr if she could.
Princess Lucy is maybe 20lbs and Ryder the Ginormous Gallumpus comes in close to 100lbs They both have voices and they are pretty good about not using them. Ryder has a woof, a big, loud woof. Lucy on the other hand, only speaks when she gets excited, which is every time a walk or car ride is involved. Her voice will make you turn on your closest friend. Lucy's happy voice is high and yippy. Once she's gotten things sorted out and we're on our way, she's quiet and running between the two back windows, head out, with a smile only a schnauzer can have. Ryder usually has the other window, head out, tongue wagging. I love looking in my side mirrors at them; what a duo!
I am not even close to the perfect housekeeper because of the animals in my life (Jeff included). I can live with dog hair and boot/paw prints on my kitchen floor. Yes, we do live in a barn. I just don't have the fight in me to keep up with everyone. Sweeping/mopping a couple times a week is such a boring chore. I do it because even I have a point of enough dog hair and dirt. I have also learned to love the smell of lemon oil on furniture. Shoot me now please.
Thanks for reading my blog! I'd love to know what you think; am I boring the universe to tears? I must say I'm having fun doing this. Journaling through technology where anyone can read it. That's my goal though. Get my writing out there. It's been on "the list" forever and now I can cross it off.
It starts around 5am. Every morning, 5am. This morning, he was off by 10 minutes and it was actually 4:50am. Trust me, I looked. A little bit of light is coming out, but its still Oh-Dark Hundred when he is ready to go.
Both of us are bone tired, and sleeping thru the entire night has become a daily challenge. When Oh-Dark Hundred comes around, its by way of a slight snuffle, and a cold nose gently nudging me. And its always me. He doesn't go to Jeff's side unless he's really frustrated with me. Ugghh, really? So I tell him to go lay down, which he does using all his 100lbs and flopping on the floor, loudly.
So, we're all up, but not moving anytime soon. Just a few more minutes, which Ryder graciously gives, until he's back with his cold nose nudging me, this time with a sloppy puppy kiss. Now I have to move, because he's doing his happy dance and knows slobber will get me moving every time.
Downstairs we go, and the two of them go out in the semi-darkness. Lucy will keep up with Ryder until she drops. I buy bones larger than her head, and she will get it away from the big guy and not let it go until she's good and ready. They make their early morning outting quick, because they know Mom will have breakfast ready for them. I seriously feed the dogs before I even get coffee started. There's a lot to be said of being a pup's human.
Lucy is a very delicate eater. She doesn't slurp or slobber. She neatly picks out the good stuff and licks the bowl, quietly. Ryder on the other hand, has no manners. None. It drives Jeff crazy that Ryder slurps, loudly, whatever he is inhaling in his bowl, or a bowl of water. He sprays water everywhere and snout still dripping, will come for a head nudge. Now that its getting warmer, the water bowl stays outside in the hopes that when he comes in, he won't be dripping. Ever the optimist.
When it rains, its a good day in our house because Mom has a TOWEL, and isn't afraid to use it. They both love the towel rubbing after they come in from a steady rain. Princess Lucy doesn't swim, and sorta minds getting wet, but she loves that towel. I swear they go outside during a downpour, just because they know the towel would be waiting.
Georgie the Wonder Dog was smart, but Ryder, the Ginormous Gallumpus, is really smart and learns real quick what works for HIM, like the whole morning ritual. He can be annoyingly happy. The front paws start his happy dance, the tongue comes out for puppy kisses, and get him near a body of water, and you have puppy heaven.
Lucy, on the other hand, loves feet. She is the perfect footstool. So long as you keep gently rubbing her back with your foot, she will stay there for hours. If you get tired of rubbing her back with your foot, and bring the other foot up, she will move to reposition herself under said foot. And she groans with pleasure when she gets a foot rub back rub. I think she'd purr if she could.
Princess Lucy is maybe 20lbs and Ryder the Ginormous Gallumpus comes in close to 100lbs They both have voices and they are pretty good about not using them. Ryder has a woof, a big, loud woof. Lucy on the other hand, only speaks when she gets excited, which is every time a walk or car ride is involved. Her voice will make you turn on your closest friend. Lucy's happy voice is high and yippy. Once she's gotten things sorted out and we're on our way, she's quiet and running between the two back windows, head out, with a smile only a schnauzer can have. Ryder usually has the other window, head out, tongue wagging. I love looking in my side mirrors at them; what a duo!
I am not even close to the perfect housekeeper because of the animals in my life (Jeff included). I can live with dog hair and boot/paw prints on my kitchen floor. Yes, we do live in a barn. I just don't have the fight in me to keep up with everyone. Sweeping/mopping a couple times a week is such a boring chore. I do it because even I have a point of enough dog hair and dirt. I have also learned to love the smell of lemon oil on furniture. Shoot me now please.
Thanks for reading my blog! I'd love to know what you think; am I boring the universe to tears? I must say I'm having fun doing this. Journaling through technology where anyone can read it. That's my goal though. Get my writing out there. It's been on "the list" forever and now I can cross it off.
Monday, June 6, 2011
Oh Montana!
This has been one long, bitch of a cold, grey and snowy winter. Nine months of winter make you second guess what seemed like a great decision to move from a place of sunshine and flowering trees in April to the Northern Rockies.
Then there are weekends like this past one, where it all makes sense. Mother Nature smiles at us for two consequetive days in a row, on a weekend no less, and being in Montana is magical. The sun came out on Saturday and our garden is now planted and taking root. I have the daily pleasure of looking out my window into the garden and knowing that I am feeding it as much as it feeds me. It's a REAL garden this year. Rows rather than clusters. I learned alot from my attempt last year to grow things. For the next three months, I will sit in front of my garden with my morning coffee and revel in the fact I am growing something and it feeds my soul. This is Montana. Mother Nature and all her wonders and sometimes bad attitude lives in Montana.
Then there are the horses. And cowboys. And enough testosterone to get me through meopause. Sunday we herded horses. With vehicles. Not a saddle pony or cowboy in sight, just the four of us: Jeff, Chuck, Monica and myself running a herd of at least 50 head of horses off 2000 acres and into 90 acres. Holy guacamole toledo what a ride! This is Montana at its most believable. Montana is where the rubber hits the road and you'd better be able to shake it off and get 'er done.
Monica drove the truck, Jeff drove Louise and Chuck and I rode the buggy. At 50 miles an hour over rises that you know are a straight drop down. You have to go fast; gettimg caught up in a wash or gopher hole makes for a very bad day. It reminded me of flying in a hot air balloon over Valley of the Gods in Monument Valley. I got to crew as a volunteer, which means you can fly for free. It also means if that balloon goes down, you're carrying that Gondola for miles to the closest road. I never had to carry a gondola out, thank goodness and the flight was breathaking. I didn't want to deal with Chuck if that buggy got stuck, so I hung on for the ride and boy howdy, it rocked!
Literally, it rocked. Riding in that buggy with Chuck was like flying in an airplane; I know I am personally willing that plane to take off safely, and then willing it down safely. I was willing that buggy to stay upright as we took the washes at full speed with no sense of what's coming up. Well, I had no idea of what was coming up. Chuck was been working this land for years and knows where every wash and gopher hole could be. He was merciless with the gopher holes. Hit one of those at 50 mph and that makes for a bumpy ride. He did listen to me a couple times when we climbed a wash that was straight down and straight up that it might not be a good idea to give it a go. Whew. I was riding that buggy like a bike or a horse-lean into it, hold on and go.
And then we found the herd. 50 head with at least 5 foals. Running. Full on galloping across acres and miles. All in the same direction. A white mare (or the bitch as Chuck refers to her), has her own ideas of where she wants to go and why, and she just pisses Chuck off. She did fine yesterday and stayed with the herd. She pisses him off, but she's been pissing him off for years. I think he keeps her for just that reason. Chuck is the horse whisperer and likes to act pissed off. Gotta love a guy who threatens the cannery one minute and then goes on and hands out cake the next.
Seeing those ponies running as we are driving paralel to them, was fricking unbelievable. The sound of all those hooves, at full speed over the sound of that buggy being floored to keep up with them, was full on Montana without the preconceived cowboys, sorta. 50 head running on a ridge against the backdrop of the Absorkee mountains with snow in the high country, and a crystal clear blue sky almost made me cry because of the beauty and moment.
I'll always be the "east coast girl", but Oh Montana, I can't believe this is my life. It's hard and its wonderful. I am living an adventurous life and holding on with both hands!
Thanks for reading!
Then there are weekends like this past one, where it all makes sense. Mother Nature smiles at us for two consequetive days in a row, on a weekend no less, and being in Montana is magical. The sun came out on Saturday and our garden is now planted and taking root. I have the daily pleasure of looking out my window into the garden and knowing that I am feeding it as much as it feeds me. It's a REAL garden this year. Rows rather than clusters. I learned alot from my attempt last year to grow things. For the next three months, I will sit in front of my garden with my morning coffee and revel in the fact I am growing something and it feeds my soul. This is Montana. Mother Nature and all her wonders and sometimes bad attitude lives in Montana.
Then there are the horses. And cowboys. And enough testosterone to get me through meopause. Sunday we herded horses. With vehicles. Not a saddle pony or cowboy in sight, just the four of us: Jeff, Chuck, Monica and myself running a herd of at least 50 head of horses off 2000 acres and into 90 acres. Holy guacamole toledo what a ride! This is Montana at its most believable. Montana is where the rubber hits the road and you'd better be able to shake it off and get 'er done.
Monica drove the truck, Jeff drove Louise and Chuck and I rode the buggy. At 50 miles an hour over rises that you know are a straight drop down. You have to go fast; gettimg caught up in a wash or gopher hole makes for a very bad day. It reminded me of flying in a hot air balloon over Valley of the Gods in Monument Valley. I got to crew as a volunteer, which means you can fly for free. It also means if that balloon goes down, you're carrying that Gondola for miles to the closest road. I never had to carry a gondola out, thank goodness and the flight was breathaking. I didn't want to deal with Chuck if that buggy got stuck, so I hung on for the ride and boy howdy, it rocked!
Literally, it rocked. Riding in that buggy with Chuck was like flying in an airplane; I know I am personally willing that plane to take off safely, and then willing it down safely. I was willing that buggy to stay upright as we took the washes at full speed with no sense of what's coming up. Well, I had no idea of what was coming up. Chuck was been working this land for years and knows where every wash and gopher hole could be. He was merciless with the gopher holes. Hit one of those at 50 mph and that makes for a bumpy ride. He did listen to me a couple times when we climbed a wash that was straight down and straight up that it might not be a good idea to give it a go. Whew. I was riding that buggy like a bike or a horse-lean into it, hold on and go.
And then we found the herd. 50 head with at least 5 foals. Running. Full on galloping across acres and miles. All in the same direction. A white mare (or the bitch as Chuck refers to her), has her own ideas of where she wants to go and why, and she just pisses Chuck off. She did fine yesterday and stayed with the herd. She pisses him off, but she's been pissing him off for years. I think he keeps her for just that reason. Chuck is the horse whisperer and likes to act pissed off. Gotta love a guy who threatens the cannery one minute and then goes on and hands out cake the next.
Seeing those ponies running as we are driving paralel to them, was fricking unbelievable. The sound of all those hooves, at full speed over the sound of that buggy being floored to keep up with them, was full on Montana without the preconceived cowboys, sorta. 50 head running on a ridge against the backdrop of the Absorkee mountains with snow in the high country, and a crystal clear blue sky almost made me cry because of the beauty and moment.
I'll always be the "east coast girl", but Oh Montana, I can't believe this is my life. It's hard and its wonderful. I am living an adventurous life and holding on with both hands!
Thanks for reading!
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