The reason my whole cowboy life sort of flashed before my eyes when Monte told me he was going to introduce to Joe Aefea is because I had actually met Joe Aerea before. But I didn’t say so because it was another long and embarrassing story. And it had been a couple years and I was hoping Joe wouldn’t even remember me.

Although I will never forget Joe because among many other things Joe Aerea was one of two men a met in that country that could ride up on me on horseback, in just flat and open country with no cover. And I never saw them coming until they were right behind me. And it wasn’t just me. Joe Aerea could do that to anybody.

It was my second summer riding for Ted, already July without even one day I wasn’t in the saddle. But I was also a drummer in a little hometown rock and roll band, and low and behold we got booked for a dance in Dubois.A great venue. Party wise at least.

So I didn’t tell Ted I needed the weekend off. I demanded it. Even if I had to quit I was going to make that gig. Ted said okay but I should have known he was going to make me really pay for it.

This wasn’t just in the days before cellphones. It was in the days of any kind of phone being few and far between. I had to get my own ride to town so I eventually got a call into my grandma to agree to come and pick me up om Friday. Then I had to get to Shoshoni before 7 pm which was when the band was headed out. If I didn’t they would leave without me.

It was still pitch black that morning when Ted called for “wrangle” and since I was the wrangler I had to run the saddle horses into the corral.

Nothing but a bowl of oatmeal for breakfast and then Ted told me to catch a horse. I walked into the corral and Sage, a big old, white horse in my string was closest. Good natured and easy to catch so I grabbed him.

I only had a bridle on Sage when Ted suddenly threw the gate open and turned all the rest of the horses out. And I should have known something was up right then.

Ted was in no mood to talk and we drove all the way to the Bow And Arrow summer camp. He had me unload Sage and then told me.

“You need to roundup the farmer’s 40 wethers and get them into the Berger Place and then you will be done for the day and can go to town,” Ted told me.

That didn’t sound so bad. In some shady deal Ted had agreed to summer those sheep as part of the deal he had for the farmer to winter some of Ted’s cows. But Ted didn’t say the wethers would be eating his grass and had left them some place else.

I knew where the Berger place was. Which was about 10 miles from the Bow And Arrow and we could have driven right into it. But I told Ted I had no idea where the wethers were.

“The last time I saw them they were right around the Point Of The Mountain Reservoir. And get all 40 of them. And you’re fired if you don’t,” Ted said as he got in the truck and left.

And then, and only then did it occur to me, “Why Ted you fucking asshole. You’re not giving me the weekend off. You’re trying to make sure I miss my ride.”

Ted had deliberately taken me just as far as he could from the Berger place. He ordered me to find 40 sheep in at least a couple square miles. And first I had to ride about five miles to even get to where the sheep were at. And once I got them gathered up drive them at least three or four miles to the Berger place.

I was fit to be tied but then thought alright you ass hole I will take the challenge.And with that I got Sage out of the gate, jumped aboard, and took off cross country at a trot.

I at least knew enough by then to know where the corner gate was at leaving the Bow And Arrow land. That would put me on the electrical power line which was almost as good as a road and just about a straight line to the reservoir.

And I also had at least one advantage. Just by luck that morning I had grabbed Sage which was a pretty big all white horse with great big hooves nearly the size of a Clydesdale’s. But even with those huge feet Sage was pretty smooth to ride and almost seemed to prefer trotting to walking.

We trotted all the way to the corner gate which was maybe a mile. And actually made it to the gate still in time to see the dust from Ted’s truck on the county road.

We walked and trotted the rest of the way to the first allotment where the Point Of The Mountain reservoir was. And when I got to that gate I could see the reservoir and at least some of the sheep.

But I couldn’t trust all 40 sheep would be around the reservoir so I decided to cut to the east, get on the pipeline which was almost like another road and cut the allotment in about half. That way I could see the bottom half of the allotment.

And sure enough I did find nine head of sheep in the draw where the creek ran. And while driving them towards the reservoir picked up four more. That gave me 13 which I hoped was not bad luck.

I had to make a big circle all around the reservoir to gather the rest of them and came up with 20. So I had 33 of them but for the life of me I could not see seven more.

And there was only one place I hadn’t looked which was the far west corner of the allotment. And I hadn’t looked there because it was nearly straight up hills with rocks and trees where a horse couldn’t go.

I decided I would have to walk that piece of country out so I tied Sage up and took off. I didn’t have a watch but figured it was at least going on noon by then.

And I also didn’t have any sheep. I covered the first two hills bottom to top. And man were they ever steep. The steepest hill was the last one and I was running out places to look because I was almost to the fence corner. When I finally saw a sheep.

The sheep was laying down under a juniper tree about a third of the way up the hillside. And then I saw a sheep laying down under another tree nearly half way up. And then what at least looked like they might be sheep near the top.

But finding them was only half the battle. How to get them down was the real challenge because if I tried to take them head on they would just go higher up the hillside or at least in the wrong direction.

My only choice was to circle back to the north side of the hill, climb it to get above the sheep and then drive them down the hill. And I was burning daylight. Or more accurately daylight was burning me. I could feel the sun burning through the back of my shirt.

The sweat also started to pour off me as I tried to make three or four steps at a time up the nearly bare and nearly straight up hillside. And taking three or four steps didn’t mean I was gaining three or four steps up. Because cowboy boots are not made for climbing and they kept slipping on me.

When I finally busted out over the top of the hill a little panic was starting to set in. I didn’t know exactly what time it was but just by the angle of the sun on my back I feared it was already past noon. Which was about the time I had hoped to be done and riding back to the Battle Ax.

So I all but literally tried kicking those last seven sheep off that hill. And I mean make them run down it. Which worked alright near the top which was narrow but got harder the closer I got to the bottom which was wider.

And as always I didn’t understand sheep and they didn’t understand me. Or maybe sheep did understand me and just did what they did to aggravate me. Because for me there was no telling what sheep might do. But it was almost always the opposite of what I wanted them to.

Now once I got them down to the bottom of the hill I thought I could go back and find Sage to get mounted up again. But instead I had seven sheep trying to go in seven different directions including right back up the hill again if I so much as turned my back on them.

The one thing I had going for me is I had the fence on my right side. So I could try to push the sheep down the fence line. But there was always three or four of the sheep trying to make a break for it into the open country on my left back to where the reservoir was.

I would have to run to get around them and chase them back to the fence. And as soon as I did the other sheep would try to turn back to go up the hill again.

I was so busy doing that I didn’t even realize how far we had gone until I finally looked up and there was the county road, cattle guard, and most importantly the gate into the Berger allotment. And that was close enough for me. I just opened the gate chased those seven sheep through it and closed the gate again because I could never trust sheep to not try to double back on me.

Then all I had to do was find my way back to Sage which seemed a little daunting because for the life of me I couldn’t remember where I tied Sage up. And looking back at that country from the county road made everything look different.

When I got off Sage and tied him up I was looking at three hills to the south of me. But now looking back up in that country I was looking at more like a half dozen hills to the north.

Picking which hills were the ones where Sage was at was really confusing and risky to me. I didn’t know I was dyslexic back then. I had never even heard the word. But I damn sure knew I could spend the better part of a day just wondering around not knowing where I was really at. And I could not afford that on that day.

Now the safest thing probably would have been to just walk the county road until I got above the reservoir again. Because I knew Sage and I were above that when we crossed the creek and got to the bottom of the three hills where I had tied him up.

But I had no idea how far that was. It would be the long way for sure. Maybe as much as a three mile walk. And I would be walking head on into the rest of the sheep I had gathered which might scatter them from hell to breakfast again.

I decided I needed to try and backtrack back to Sage with the emphasis on TRY. And it was going to cost me. I had two landmarks I could go off of. One was the fence line that went near the bottom of the last hill. And the other was the hill itself which was the tallest and steepest of all of them.

But it was high enough once I got near the top of it the first time I looked back and I could actually see Sage again.

I thought that was my best bet because time was wasting and I could feel panic starting to set in again that I was running out of time.

So up I went. Maybe not knowing but at least suspecting by looking at it the south side of the hill was actually steeper than the north side I went up the first time. I hadn’t noticed that when I was coming down the south side but it sure looked steeper.

So I started up the north side. And when I finally got to the top sure enough I could also see as hard as it was climbing the hill was the best bet because could see Sage and he was about a mile off from where I thought he was.

I still had a couple hills between me and Sage but I took a bead on a draw that went between them that would get me to Sage without any more climbing.

Sort of. That hill was so steep I almost had to climb down it in places and kept busting my ass in other places. But I finally made it to flat ground. And much more importantly hadn’t lost sight of the draw I needed to go between the hills.

I am not sure I was ever gladder to get to a horse in my life. I needed the rest. But I also needed something even more. Water. And I bet Sage did to because it had already been a long hard ride and he had been tied up in the hot sun for at least an hour.

I had no inclination at all to drink out of moss filled insect infested reservoir. So instead of just heading to the reservoir where I had left the rest of the sheep Sage and I turned up country to get to the creek where the water would be cooler and clearer. And I seldom lucked out like that because of course the sheep weren’t where I left them.

Some of them had moved up the creek to where Sage and I were. And some of them had moved back down the main draw below the reservoir. I would have missed them if I had just gone back to the reservoir.

Water was still the first order of business though and I let Sage drink his fill while I bellied down to the creek above him.

And that was some very iffy water at best. It was almost warm and I just could not place the taste. It wasn’t alkali. I had lots of experience, some of them really bad, drinking alkali water. But it sure had some kind or minerals or chemicals in it I hoped wouldn’t give me the shits. But any water was better than none.

Once we got our drinks me and Sage began to gather up sheep in great haste. I had to kick the ones above the reservoir down with the others around it. Chase them down the road and then go get the ones in the draw and chase them up to the road.

And chase was the right word. I put them at a run until I finally got them all gathered up and headed down the road towards the gate.

And speaking of all, did I have all 40 of them? I thought so. At least it looked like it. But as far as counting them I tried a couple times and gave up because with them moving and me and numbers I might as well have been trying to count their legs and divide by four.

As always with me it was further to the cattleguard and gate than I thought it was. But as it came into view I could see at least some sheep near It on the other side of the fence.

I had to turn Sage to the outside of the little band of sheep and lope him ahead of them to get the gate open. And then went back to the sheep that had just stopped in the road where I had left them.

I got them moving again and got them through the gate and closed it. And finally I was on the home stretch. I could actually see where the gate to the Berger Place was and figured it was only about a mile and a half. And all I had to do was get them through that gate and I was free to go.

That made me want to hurry those sheep a little more. But within the first couple hundred yards instead of hurrying up the sheep were just slowing down. And in fact within another few hundred more yards some of them would just stop on me or even lay down. I would have to get Sage right behind them close enough to step on them before they would start moving. And then the others would stop or try to lay down.

That mile and a half turned out to be the longest and hottest of the whole day and I was already frustrated and overheated by the time I got to the gate into the Berger Place. But we had made it and I jumped off Sage and all but sprinted to the gate and threw it open.

And then when I turned around every one of those sheep were laying down. I jumped back up on Sage and spun him around to get behind them and push them through what could not be more than 20 yards between us and the gate. But not even one of them would stand up let alone move.

And it didn’t matter what I tried. I yelled and scrammed.I road Sage right up on them so close one more step and he would have stepped on one of them. I road Sage back 20 or 30 yards behind them and charged at them with Sage even on a lope.

And it was worse than nothing working. I was literally starting to lose it just freaking out in frustration. Until I finally thought they are just sheep and only 40 of them and I will just drag them through that gate if I have to.

I was just in a freaked out rage by then and did manage to drag about five sheep to the other side of the gate. But two things were happening.

Each sheep seemed to be getting heavier. And far worse hotter. It felt like 100 degrees by the gate and 130 degrees walking into the bunch of sheep.

Until I finally just couldn’t do it anymore and collapsed in the middle of the sheep exhausted just screaming and actually crying.

But not for long. I think it was a 130 degrees laying in the middle of those sheep and I felt heat exhaustion turning into heat stroke. I literally had to crawl on my hands and knees to get out of that bunch of sheep to the high side of a little draw. Where I just curled up in the fetal position sobbing hysterically.

And even that seemed to be too much work so I quit sobbing a little bit and went to just laying there cussing and pounding the ground with my fists.

Which is what I was doing when out of nowhere I heard, “Buenas tardes. Dame un cigarrillo por favor.” And I looked behind me and there was a man getting off his horse.

At first I thought it must be a hallucination from heat exhaustion because I couldn’t understand how a man on a horse could ride up on me in that mostly flat bare country without me seeing him for miles.

But I also didn’t know why my hallucination would be speaking Spanish when I only knew enough Spanish to kind of figure out he was asking me for a cigarette.

So I sat up really shocked and embarrassed and fished my pack of cigarettes out of my shirt pocket. And was reaching to hand him one when the stranger sat down beside me instead. And I decided he wanted to smoke one and visit and got a cigarette out for myself.

He said thanks and introduced himself as Joe Aerea. Who I had heard was a famous sheep herder in that country. But he sure didn’t look like it to me. He wasn’t old and dirty like most sheepherders I had known. Joe was fairly young, good looking, not very big and had a charming easy smile.

Once he had introduced himself he wanted to know who I was and I told him my name which didn’t register with him. So I told him who my grandma was which was the easiest way to give my heritage. And of course he knew my grandma and her whole family.

I also told Joe I was riding for Ted and Joe said he knew that. And that he was riding for Ted too that day.

“Because that son of a bitch threw those 40 wethers in on us going on a month ago. And wouldn’t get them off us even after he was told to. So I was going to move them back on the Berger Place today. But I guess you beat me to it.”

That told me a bunch. The land he was talking about was part of the P-Bench. So “us” meant Joe was working for them. And I hadn’t really beat him to it. At least not yet. I still had 40 wethers laying down about 20 yards from the gate. And it also told me Joe had to have been behind me at least part of the day.

Which he admitted next. “It’s none of my business but I was watching you and you were working them too hard. Sheep have to move at their own pace. And especially on a day like this. I bet it’s 100 degrees today and they are wearing wool coats. Which is why they are sulling on you.”

I told Joe sheep always acted sullen to me. And Joe said that was because I didn’t understand sheep. And it wasn’t “sullen” it was “sulling.”

“When sheep get too hot and tired they sull. They just lay down wherever they are at and nothing can move them. Not men, horses, or even dogs. They just ain’t going to move until they cool down and get rested. And you don’t get to decide when that is. It’s up to the sheep. And you just have to wait until they stand up on their own.”

Well that explained a lot. It didn’t help me missing my ride and the dance and my weekend off. But it explained the 40 sheep laying down in front of me not more than 20 yards from the last gate. And I told Joe he was right I couldn’t even move those sheep 20 yards.

Then Joe kind of chuckled and finally got around to the elephant in the room or on the prairie as the case may be. "Hombre, fue un ataque de locura lo que hiciste."

Yeah my Spanish wasn’t that good and Joe saw I drew a blank so he translated, “Man that was one hell of a fit you threw.”And by then he was about to fall over laughing and added “I don’t think I ever saw one quite like that. What the hell were you so mad about”?

So I related the whole story to Joe about being a drummer in a band. That we got booked for a dance in Dubois. Ted said I could have the weekend off. My grandma said she would pick me up and take me to town.But I had to be at the Battle Ax a 5 pm. But Ted screwed me over and now I couldn’t make it because those sheep laid down on me.

“Qué puto cabrón, el Ted,” Joe said.

I didn’t understand that one either but was sure I wanted to because it sounded good. And Joe just looked at me and said, “What a fucking asshole Ted is. That just sounds like him.”

And then I had to ask Joe if he had been behind me all day. And he said most of it but I had never looked behind me. He said he saw me coming off the Bow And Arrow on a trot but wasn’t going to tire his horse to catch me. Then watched me head to the big draw. Then back up to the hills and start walking. “So I decided I would go look for the ones you missed in the southeast corner.”

And sure enough that made me actually look around for the first time since Joe sat down and there were three more wethers grazing maybe 30 yards down country from the ones laying down. And as usual I had miscounted. I felt really stupid as usual and Joe had really saved me.

But he didn’t rub it in. Instead Joe wanted to know which band I played in, who all was in it, and what kind of music we played.

I told Joe the names of my other three band mates. And he knew every one of them and their families. I said we played rock and roll music and Joe asked are you like Ringo in the Beatles? And I said we just played a couple of their songs and we were called the “Book one.”

Then Joe told me to check my watch maybe I still had enough time to make it. And I said I didn’t have a watch and Joe kind of reared back in disbelief like he’d seen a snake of something.

“Estúpido quel genre de cowboy n'a pas de montre?” Which I would not have been able to understand if Joe hadn’t followed it with, “What, don’t Ted pay you? You can’t afford a watch”?

I came up with the lame excuse I didn’t think I needed a watch since Ted worked me daylight to dark. And Joe countered a watch would come in handy right now to know if I had missed my ride or not. To which I had to admit he was right about that.

And with that Joe pulled out his pocket watch and said, “It’s 1:30 and you still have time just as long as you are in the saddle by 2 and hit all three gates.”

“You’ll have to go cross-country to make it to the Battle Ax by 5.It’s already too late to make it by the road,” Joe said. And then added, “You have three fences between here and there. And you will need to go straight to the gates so you don’t waste time riding up and down the fence line.”

Joe was right. I needed to buy a watch. Because it was actually a lot earlier than I thought. And with that Joe pulled a can of Half and Half tobacco and rolling papers out of his pocket. I told him I still had plenty of cigarettes and started to offer him one.But he insisted, “Let’s smoke one of mine.”

Joe explained he usually smoked Winston cigarettes but had run out a day or two ago and it would still be a few days before he got more supplies. But until them he had plenty of Half and Half. And while Joe was talking he rolled two cigarettes that were just as firm and round as store bought cigarettes.

We lit them up and I admit to getting dizzy after the first couple puffs which was how strong they were. And Joe was saying he might help me out a little bit and push the sheep through the gate for me if we ran out of time. Because he wanted to beat Ted at his asshole game.

We just made small talk then. Joe wanted to know if I was in school, what grade, and if I played sports. I said yes, I was a freshman, and no I didn’t play sports.

Then I just wanted to know why Joe herded sheep. He just seemed too young, good looking, and charming to be a sheep herder. And Joe said he did have other trades. But he understood sheep better than humans and liked their company better.

And with that almost on cue we no more than put out our cigarettes when every one of those wethers stood up and started walking through the gate. And the three I had missed also picked up their heads and followed the rest of the band through.

All I had to do was follow them to the gate, close it, grab Sage who had been standing patiently at the fence where I had tied him. And Joe was waving me back down to where we had been sitting.

“You better water up your horse for this,” he was telling me, “It’s still more than 10 miles from here to the Battle Ax.”

So we walked down to a tiny spring. One of the very few in that part of the country and all of us got a drink. And then while just standing there Joe got behind me holding me by both shoulders making me look down country.

“Escúchame con atención, amigo mío, This spring lines up with the first gate. Can you see that last bluff on the left”?

I told Joe I could see the bluff which seemed like kind of a long way off. And he said the first gate was just on the other side of it.

“Then you have to see the next bluff. You can’t see it from here. But you will be able to see it when you get to the first gate. Ride straight to the bottom of that bluff for the second gate. ¿entiendes”?

I told Joe I understood. And he said the last gate was a little more tricky. “It’s all flat country from there but it’s still just about a straight shot to the third gate just as long as you don’t wonder off and get to wondering around. You can spend all day doing that. So I will show you a little trick.”

Joe walked just a little ways and bent down and picked a stem of some kind of plant I had never really noticed and walked back to Sage and I. But this time walked up to the left side of Sage’s neck.

“This is Sweet Sage,” Joe was saying as he used pieces of Sage’s mane to tie it pointing down his neck. “The Native Americans say it’s good luck and you might need some.“

Then Joe stepped back and said, ”And here’s the trick. Once you mount up as soon as you get through the second gate look at this piece of sage and then pick out a spot right in front of you. When you get to that spot pick out another one and ride straight to it. And just keep doing that but don’t try to pick the spots too far apart. That will keep you going in a straight line. It might seem like it’s taking a lot of time but nothing compared looking for a gate in about 20 square miles of open range. And as soon as you are through that gate you’re at you grandma’s old school.”

I knew that to mean the old one room schoolhouse my grandma attended and actually taught in. The building wasn’t there anymore but I knew where it was right next to the road and it was one mile down the road from there to the Battle Ax.

I ran all those instructions through my mind again trying to make sure I got them right because a lot was depending on it. And Joe pulled out his watch again, took a look at it, and said it was just about 2 p.m. I needed to get going.

But I took the time to do one more thing first. I untied my Levi jacket off the back of my saddle with Joe looking on bemused reminding me it was 100 degrees and I wouldn’t need it. But I just got to the pocket where I always had an extra pack of cigarettes stashed for emergencies.

“They’re Marlboro,” I said trying to hand the pack to Joe remembering he said he smoked Winstons but thinking they were better than hand rolled.

And Joe tried to refuse saying he would be fine. But I insisted, “Just as a way of saying thanks.” And Joe said he would take them under those circumstances. We mounted up and headed in different directions without another word.

I got Sage into a good smooth walk never taking my eyes off the first bluff. And it wasn’t long before we hit a pretty good trail. But if the trail was drifting off from the bottom of the only bluff on my left I would pull Sage out of the trail and keep a bee line on the bluff on my left because there were a whole bunch of bluffs on my right.

And sure enough after what must have been four or five miles a fence line came into view. And just past the bottom of the bluff was the first gate just like Joe said. So far so good I was thinking.

Once back in the saddle after closing the gate the next bluff was a little more tricky because I could actually see more than one. More like three of them. But I remembered Joe saying the next gate was also near the bottom of that bluff I could see and all three buffs were pretty much in line so if I just took a sight on the bottoms of them I figured I would hit the gate.

I was wrong of course. I hit the fence line but no gate. I thought the gate had to be to the south of me and headed down the fence line in that direction. But Sage seemed kind of resistant and I didn’t ride far before thinking maybe I was wrong and the gate was to the north. And as soon as I turned Sage around he actually picked up his pace a little and walked straight to the gate

And now for the tricky part I thought as I swung back into my saddle looking at the piece of Sweet Sage tied to Sage’s neck. I was putting a pretty close study on that piece of sage and a spot not too far in front of me. When Sage just took off walking on his own.

This is not always true and trust me you can’t trust it but it is said horses know how to get back home. And that seemed to be what Sage was telling me. So I gave Sage his head and just used the piece of sage Joe had tied as a loose reference. But we seemed to be going in more or less a straight line.

Sage and I seemed to be making pretty good time and sure enough after what seemed like another few miles the fence line came into view and good old Sage took me right to the gate. And as soon as I saw it I saw trouble ahead.

It wasn’t a gate like most all others on the range that only had three or four strands of barbed wire and a thin post in the middle. Gates incidentally I often ran into trouble closing once I opened them.

This gate looked more like an oilfield gate which was probably the case because there was an old pump jack where the old one room school house used to be.

There was the gate, an old abandoned pump jack where they pumped oil at one time, the road, and it was one mile to the Battle Ax from there.

But that gate was woven wire, with two strands of barbed wire on the top, a long pole clear across the bottom, thin polls on each end and railroad ties for posts. And no telling when was the last time anyone had opened it.

It looked like trouble and as soon as I got off Sage and tried to open it I knew I was right. I wasn’t very big and not all that stout and often had trouble opening gates and more trouble trying to close them. And I could not even budge that gate to get the top wire loop off to open it.

I did have a few tricks up my sleeve. One was grab the gate in the middle and jerk every wire as hard as I could trying to create some slack. Which didn’t really work because of the woven wire and poll across the bottom. It did budge but not enough to get the wire loop off the pole.

My next trick was to take down my lariat and run the end of it around the gate post and the railroad tie in a couple loops like a pulley. That didn’t work either but I was getting closer. So I grabbed a stick, stuck it in the loops of my rope and started twisting to pull harder. And finally success. I got enough slack to lift the top loop and open the gate.

I got me and Sage on the other side and then of course the real battle would begin. Which was closing the gate. Because it is a western mandate if you open a gate you have to close the gate again once on the other side.

I am telling you it was all I could do just to drag that gate back to the railroad tie. I got the bottom of the gate pole back into the bottom loop. But was like three feet short of being able to get the top loop over the gate pole.

So I tried another trick I had learned which was to reverse course and get the top loop over the pole and then try to push the pole to the bottom loop. And I pushed for all I was worth and was still about two feet short.

And now a little panic was starting to set in because I was wasting all the time Sage and I had gained just trying to get that damned gate closed. So I decided to try some horse power.

I put the pole in the bottom loop again. Then tied my lariat to the pole and around the tie again. But this time jumped on Sage took a couple dallies around my saddle horn and started backing Sage up.

And it was working. I could see the gate was just about closed. But with only dallies around my saddle horn I couldn’t hold it there to jump off Sage close the gate.

So for one more attempt I tied my lariat hard and fast to the saddle horn, got off Sage, and backed him up like that. Which would have worked if Sage was a roping horse and knew to keep tension on the rope. Which he didn’t.

Sage would pull on the rope as long as I was backing him up by hand. But as soon as I let go and tried to close the gate Sage would just step forward again.

I kept trying and it was getting very frustrating for both of us until Sage just blew up on me and tried to run away. Which he couldn’t really do because the rope was tied hard and fast. But it looked like he was going to pull my saddle off him before I could get to him.

It was one hell of a rodeo. Sage even managed to get turned around on me headed for the road lunging against the rope. And I was at the bit trying to get Sage settled down while trying not to get my head taken off with the rope or knocked down and stomped on. All the while thinking something has to give either breaking my lariat or the gate post.

I am not sure whether I actually got Sage settled down again or if he just got tired lunging against the rope. Probably a little of both. But I finally got him stopped long enough to get a foot in the stirrup and get back on Sage so I could untie my lariat.

I dropped the lariat, petted Sage, and soft talked him a little bit. This was the second summer I had Sage in my string. He had never blown up on me like that.

Sage did have a little quirk of jumping out of line on me to stomp rattlesnakes or badgers to death with his giant hooves. But never a rodeo like that.

But once I got Sage tied up again and went back to fight that damn gate some more it occurred to me that maybe Sage knew what he was doing and I didn’t. Because that gate was a lot looser then. I even switched back to putting the gate pole in the bottom loop. And then all it took was putting another wrap with my lariat around the post and the railroad tie. I pulled it right in and flipped the top wire loop over the gate post.

Then I swung aboard Sage with a mile to go. And here’s a horseman’s tip. You never let a horse trot back to the barn. It’s a really bad lesson for them and it will go from trotting back to spinning around and trying to run away with you back to the barn.

But Sage also seemed to know we were only a mile from the Battle Ax and he wanted to trot. And since Sage was at least eight years old, and had been a working saddle horse all his life I didn’t think one trot back to the barn would spoil him so I let him trot.

And it seemed like a pretty short mile when we hit the gates to the Battle Ax. I jumped off Sage to open the two pain in the ass gates across the railroad tracks because Ted was too cheap to put in cattle guards.

And then noticed two more things. I saw Grandma’s Corvair between the bunkhouse and the barn. And then saw Sage wasn’t in a lather, like the sweat turning into foam, but he was sweating and I knew there would be hell to pay if Grandma saw I had been riding him that hard. Even if it was Sage’s idea.

I didn’t get back on Sage and instead “walked him out” just leading him between the gates and the barn so Grandma would not accuse me of riding him hard and “putting him up wet.” Which can cause cramps in a horse’s legs.

Which didn’t exactly help. Grandma took one look at me and Sage as we walked up, saw him all sweated up, and knew I had rode him too hard. And she would have shit if she had known me and Sage had covered probably 20 miles all totaled.

“What the hell are you doing bringing that horse in in a lather you dumb kid”? she demanded to know. Knowing I often did ride horses too hard. “You are going to have to walk him out and cool him down and rub him down,” Grandma was dictating.

Which seemed kind of rich since she was just hanging up the hose to Ted’s gas tank after helping herself to some of his gasoline.

But I needed the ride. Time was running out. With no time for a Grandma blow up. And all I did was point out Sage wasn’t technically in a lather and I had just walked him from the gate, I knew how to take care of him, and I would water him.

“Not too much you dumb kid,” Grandma bellowed. Meaning you can’t let a horse all sweated up drink as much water as they wanted because they might get colic. Which is actually just a bad belly ache. But painful and can turn serious.

I led Sage over to the water trough that was fed by an artesian spring with lots of alkali. And I did have to pull Sage’s head up because he was really thirsty.

Then I took him over to where we usually unsaddled and got my saddle off him. And I was just about to take off leading him when Grandma appeared out of nowhere with a halter and halter rope saying, “Here, do it right. Don’t you think that horse would like to get the bit out of his mouth”?

Now Sage wasn’t in a lather but it looked like Grandma was about to be the way she was stomping between the barn and the open space between there and the ranch house. And I heard her bellow again, “And where are your goddamned clothes. I looked all over the house and couldn’t find any.”

I told here all my clothes were in the bunk house and I had them all packed up in my metal suitcase. I actually packed up my whole life in that little metal suitcase, took it everywhere and it had the dents to prove it.

“What bunk house”? Grandma wanted to know and I pointed to the old house that only had a twin bed with a roll-up bed with a canvas cover.

“That’s not a bunk house,” Grandma scoffed. “That’s the original Battle Ax house and it’s been abandoned for more than 50 years.”

I told Grandma I would go get my suitcase but she was on a mission and trudged off. And the best I could do was holler after her, “But leave my spurs on the bed right were I left them.”

That’s how I marked my side of the bed in case Ted rolled in with another “wino” he hired. Which he had done more than once. And I was not taking the inside of the bed next to the wall again after I had worked myself up to the outside.

It wasn’t long before Grandma came back lugging my suitcase and threw it in the trunk of the Corvair. Which was in the front of the car and the reason if you crashed into something head on the only thing between you and the front bumper was air. As in “unsafe at any speed.”

Next Grandma marched into the barn and hollered at me to bring Sage in there. She already had oats in a little feed bin in the front of the stall and was busy rooting around like a badger over by the harnesses looking for something she was sure had to be there.

She finally said “here it is” and came walking back to the stall with a brown bottle of Absorbine Senior which is a horse liniment her family also used on themselves.

Grandma poured some of it into her hand and passed the bottle to me while she started rubbing down Sage’s front leg and telling me to do the same.

But also demanding to know why I hadn’t told Ted about the dance and her picking me up.

“I ran into Ted at the Lysite Store and he said he didn’t know anything about it and you were clear up at the Berger Place. So I didn’t think you could make it and almost left,” she said.

And as we moved to Sage’s hind legs I told Grandma I did tell Ted all about the dance and he said I could have the weekend off. But then took me all the way up to the Bow and Arrow, where he unloaded me and Sage.

And told me to gather sheep at the Point of the Mountain reservoir and drive into the Berger Place. Just trying to make me miss my ride.

I could see the adding machine running in Grandma’s head as she added up the miles saying it had to be 15 or 20 miles. And it was a wonder I could cover all those miles and still make it to the Battle Ax in time.

“I wouldn’t have except I got help from Joe Aerea who wanted to help beat Ted at his own game and told me how to ride cross country and find the three gates so I didn’t have to take the road,” I told her.

Well that perked Grandma right up saying Joe was one of her favorites and so handsome. And I told her Joe also remembered and liked her as well.

By then Sage had no way of knowing it but he had just gotten the same kind of treatment one of Grandma and Grandpa’s pure bred Arabian show horses would have gotten. Which I think she might have wanted to show me and maybe relive a little bit of those better days.

But it was finally time to turn Sage loose to hit the water trough again while Grandma and I jumped in the Corvair stinking to high heavens of Absorbine Senior.

And then Grandma said we were cutting it too close to take the highway back and instead she would take the dirt back roads back to town. Which was a terrifying thought and an even more tarrying ride with the Corvair fishtailing around some of the corners.

But we made with just enough time for me to jump in the shower and get cleaned up. And then panic when I got out because I had no idea where my good clothes were or even if I still had any.

Grandma had saved me again though and had my dress clothes and even my “Beatle shoes” laid out on the bed.

But there were still only minutes to spare before the rest of the band pulled up. And we threw my drum set into the back of a truck and we were on the road.

Now the dance was another long and interesting story which I won’t go into here other than to say it was the best of dances, the worst of dances, but definitely the most profitable of dances. And we made it back mostly in one piece.

I will add, however, that before Grandma took me back to the Battle Ax there was one more order of business. So I told her we needed to stop by the general store on our way out of town because I needed to buy a watch. Like Joe had told me I needed to and I wanted to honor that after he’d saved me.

Grandma reminded me it was Sunday and the owner, ol’ Sy was very religious and the store was closed on Sunday. But we both knew even on a Sunday ol’ Sy wouldn’t take the chance of missing out on a sale if someone knocked on the door and he would be there.

Which is what I did. I just knocked on the door and when he came to it and asked what I needed I told him I needed a watch. Sy said just a minute and closed the door again.

And when he came back he had what he said was the “finest $8 Timex money could buy.” I just handed him a $10 for his trouble. And I was back at the Battle Ax by nightfall.

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