Wranglers and horses make me happy.

At the the top of every Christmas list I made as a child was "Horse" in the number one slot. I never did get a horse seeing as how my family lived in town, but I still have'nt given up on the dream either. Here in Tennessee there are horse farms, stables, and riding pavillions every 1/4 mile it seems. So I was quick to make a good impression on a few people who own those said places and we are now officially friends. Yep, even got their cell phone numbers stored. Mr. Dwight is one of the cowboys who has taken me under his duster. He told me that just by lookin at me he could tell that I wanna get up on a horse and let it loose for the hills. He's pretty accurate in his impression of me. There's hardly anything in the world that can compete with the exhilirating feel of riding a horse at a dead sprint. A few years back when I went to Idaho for a week long cattle drive I was convinced that I needed to pack up all that I owned and go live in the hills on a cattle ranch. Not because I like cows, but for the sheer fact that my job would be to ride a horse around hundreds of acres every day. (Hell...after this gig is up that may just be the next thing I decide to do.) The horse i had in idaho was amazing. She was a big black mare about 14 hands high. Fitting enough was her name, Blackie. That horse was a machine. I remember getting into the saddle my first time on her. I was a bit nervous because I had been warned that she was a pistol and loved to run. (Totally what I want in a horse, but sort of nerve racking when you put into context how powerful a horse is and how delicate certain parts of the human body are such as the spine, brain, heart and ego) She proved the hype that she had been talked up to be and with a slight kick to the gut she took off on me like a firework on 4th of July. I held on and in the 10 seconds it took me to regain my boot in the stirrup we had covered about 50 yards of dirt road. My best bud, (whom i lovingly refer to as "loser") was also mounted on her horse, BM. Now you may be thinking bowel movement, but it actually stood for Big Mare. Not an understatement either. She was a few hands higher than Blackie, but she was a little lazier. Loser would kick her and mush her on like a sled dog, but the horse just tended to go at her own pace. The only thing that would get BM moving was sighting a cow who was strayed from the herd, or walking neck and neck with my horse, Blackie. When we would be coming back from the hills after driving cows all day our horses would end up neck and neck on the home stretch back to our cabins. They almost acted like teenage boys riding bikes around showing off really, one would get a little further ahead of the other (by only a nose even) and the other would speed up and move farther ahead, this competeitive walking they would do soon turned into trotting, galloping and finally sprinting. From there the only thing Loser and I could do was hold onto the reigns for dear life and laugh as trees and rocks passed by us in a blur. After getting our horses into the barn and brushed off we would bow legged-ly saunter towards the cabin for a home-cooked meal provided by the family who owned the ranch.

Now, 4 years later I have found those down home, hard-workin country folk again. They are a different family with different stories, but they still represent a part of the U.S. which I find attractive. They get up early, work hard all day and spend their free time with their family and friends playing good music, eating good food and having great conversations. I'm thinkin' that if this job and lifestyle I am living continues it may be sooner than I expected before I got my life long Christmas wish. My fingers are crossed.