Jughead and Me (part one)

Jughead and me

I was 12 the first time I got paid for a day in the saddle. It was three days actually for a grand total of $3. I would cowboy and break horses for the next four years. Mostly in the summer for a rancher named Ted who owned The Battle Ax and a summer range called The Bow And Arrow. Ted was at least 6’-4” close to 300 pounds, meaner than a badger, with the disposition of a rattle snake.

Ted also ran his operation like it was still the 1860’s instead of the 1960’s. He was even still using a team of horses, both roans named Strawberry and Blue to rake hay or sometimes pull a wagon. (I've got a few near death experiences I could relate about them.)

Ted also had a ramada of about 20 saddle horses and each cowboy was supposed to pick out a string of six horses and ride only those. He required that hired cowboys pick five broke saddle horses and one of his colts to break.

It never worked out like that because no one but me would hang around the contrary bastard long enough to really break a horse. And before the summer was over I'd have two or three horses to break instead of just one.

One thing though was I couldn't break horses while Ted was around. I broke them the way my grandfather had taught me, which was to go slow and gentle with them. I also used a hackamore or at worst a snaffle bit so they would learn to neck rein and have a tender mouth to a bit. And the most important thing was never, no matter what, let them learn how to buck.

Young horses especially don't know how to really buck like the horses you see in the rodeos. And you can keep them from learning how to buck by keeping them calm and when they do try to buck or throw you using the reins to hold their head up. Horses can’t buck hard with their head held up so they can’t get their head down between their front legs. They more like “crow hop” which is easy to ride. And if they switch course and try to rear up you can slip out of the saddle get on the ground off to the side and use the reins to pull the horse over backwards. That is usually the last time they will try that. Nothing impresses a horse more than throwing them off their feet.

Ted of course was the opposite. Nothing but brute force and out stout them. He'd buck them out, use a spade bit in their mouth from the start, and use a two by four on occasions to get their attention. He kept trying to make me break them that way which I wouldn't. And was kind of dumb on his part because he really liked the way the horses I broke would work when I was done with them. I even broke his kid's horse but that's another story.

This happened to be my last summer cowboying for Ted although I didn’t know it at the time. The foreman Monty, who also happened to be Ted’s brother, his wife and our cook Micky, their son Butch another cowboy named Robby, and I had moved up to the Bow and Arrow for the rest of the summer.

The Bow And Arrow consisted of a two room log cabin in good shape with a sod roof, no running water, but at least had propane. And of course Monty and Micky got the cabin.

There was a one room old bunk house where the cracks in the walls were so big we could see outside and a roof that leaked like a sieve. It had rained for 12 days straight when we first got up there and we had two beds and a cot that we had to keep moving around to try and keep our beds dry with not much luck. The Bow And Arrow also had two corrals, one of them round for breaking horses, and a barn. Both of those would appear to be in better shape than the bunk house.

Ted ran both sheep and cattle and we had spent the first couple weeks docking and moving sheep. And don’t get me started on sheep because me and sheep finally had to call it a draw. I was never going to understand them and sheep were never going to understand me. But we finally rode in one evening knowing we would be working cattle the next day which was welcome relief to me.

But then I noticed someone had rustled two of the horses in my string. The two Morgans.

I actually liked breaking Ted's colts. They were close to pure bred Morgan's he got from his father-in-law. They were kind of beautiful horses with pretty heads. Usually smart and smooth riding and I would break a couple of them every summer. They had good dispositions, and since I never let them buck they were easy to break and ride and were fast learners when it came to neck reining. And I especially liked the two I had that summer.

But when we rode into the ranch that evening there were two new horses in the corral and my Morgans were missing. And Micky informed me Ted had been there dropped off the two new horses for me to break and took the Morgans.

One of the horses was a “jug head” with sleepy eyes a dull bay color with gangly legs. Ted said that one had been ridden before. And the other was kind of a big pretty sorrel but a “broomtail.” Meaning you could tell just by the length of his mane and tail it was a wild horse probably off the Red Dessert that had never been ridden. They are called “broomtails” because running wild their tails get so long they touch the ground like sweeping it.

We were all at the corral looking at them but Monty was the one who didn’t like what he saw. Which was the way the sorrel was kind of fighting the corral wildly prancing back and forth throwing its head with a wild look in its eye.

Monty had me get in the corral with him. And at first I thought is was to get a better look at the horses. But instead it turned out to be to work the gates. Because first Monty had me open the gate that connected the corral to the small horse pasture we used to hold the horses we would wrangle the next morning to ride the next day.

“Put the Jughead in the pasture,” Monty told me accidentally naming the horse in the process. Which was no problem Jughead trotted right past me through the open gate and then Monty shouted to me to close the gate while he stood between it and the broomtail.

I closed the gate and then Monty opened the gate to the rest of the land on the Bow and Arrow and turned the “broomtail” out. Saying “Fuck Ted. You’re not going to try and get on that outlaw with me up here.”

I tried to explain I wasn’t afraid to at least try but Monty was adamant and pissed off at Ted. “It would take all four of us to even get a saddle on him. And look at his eyes. He’s an outlaw. I’m not taking the chances of someone getting hurt.”

I asked about the orders from Ted and Monty just reiterated, “Fuck Ted. He can break him himself or if he’s going to make you try to get on him Tred can take both you and that hose back down to the Battle Ax and do it there. I won’t take the chances up here and if Ted doesn’t like it he can fire me.”

Which incidentally wouldn’t be the first time Ted fired Monty. That happened about every time Monty worked for Ted. Before he would have to admit he needed Monty and hire him back.

We did decide during dinner though that since we would be working cattle the next day and Robby’s dad Robert would be there to help I would check out Jughead. Just to try and figure out how much he had been “ridden.”

So the next mooring just before sunrise I wrangled the horses everyone else wanted to ride, including Robert’s big buckskin, and made sure Jughead was with them in the horse corral.

Then as usual we ate a big and really good breakfast because Micky wasn’t just a great cook. She also made sure it was enough to last all day because it was always evening by the time we got back to the ranch and we never carried a lunch. And somehow Robert coincidentally made it up there in time for that.

Once out to the corral we saddled up all the other horses first and got them out of the corral in case I had trouble catching Jughead. Which I didn’t. And no trouble getting the saddle on him either. Then it was time for me to get on him in the corral just to see if he would buck or fight and couldn’t run away if he bucked me off. Jughead did try to side step a little when I first tried to get on him. But once I got into the saddle I didn’t make any sudden moves and neither did Jughead.

I just sat there until I felt him relax, nudged him forward. And then nodded to Monty to open the gate.

Everyone else swung into their saddles and I rode off on Jughead for the day. Which by the way is not a flattering name for a horse. It’s a descriptive term for a horse with a long odd shaped head. And Jughead definitely had that. But I noticed right off Jughead also had a really good smooth kind of swinging walk that covered a lot of ground. Which is a big plus for a horse if you are going to spend all day in the saddle.

The mission that day was going to be kind of an interesting one. Because for one it was less than three miles to get to my family’s ranch, The Point Of The Mountain which was actually a pretty short ride to work compared to most we had.

There was a section of fence down at The Point from the winter snow. That let Ted and another neighbor’s cattle in The Point with my uncle’s cows. We would have to first cut out my uncle’s cows. Then drive Ted and the neighbor’s cows out of the family allotment. Then before we got off the neighbor’s land cut out his cows and drive Ted’s into the Bow and Arrow.

When we got to the fence line at The Point it was time to split up and start gathering cows. Monty took the south slopes of the peaks, Robert and Robby took the basin at the bottom and Butch took the north limestone ridge of the allotment. About six sections in all. And because I was on a bronc I took the main draw where they kicked the cows and calves into me to drive. And if need be cut out any of my uncle’s cows and calves they might have missed and kick them back.

Which was a good thing because by then I had noticed Jughead wasn't really even green broke. Instead of even trying to neck rein I had to keep pulling his head around with one bridle rein at a time to even change directions. And as far as herding cows he didn’t even have a clue.

Everything was going fine for the first couple of hours but by then we'd gathered up a bunch of fresh calves that hadn't even been branded yet. They can't go very fast and get tired easy and we wanted them and their mothers to stay together so it was slow going and kind of frustrating.

Jughead started to show that frustration, kind of prancing and quick stepping and not responding to me. I decided to wake him up and jerked up on his head and slapped him on the rearend with the bridle reins.

And Jughead jerked back, getting his head down before I could stop him and bucked. The buck came so quick and hard I didn't have time to react and I went head first onto the ground off his right shoulder. And worse somewhere in the process I had dropped my bridle reins.

Dropping the reins was no good out there and especially not with Ted's horses. Once you didn't have the reins your horse could just run off and all it took you was one five or ten mile hike in cowboy boots to teach you better than that. But apparently Jughead hadn't noticed because he was still just standing there.

He and I were kind of alone at that moment with some of the other riders within sight but not close by. And I should admit I never was a bronc rider like you see in the rodeos. I tried it a couple of times in kids rodeo's but my grandfather who had the worst broken leg you've ever seen from his rodeo days convinced me rodeo's by then were for athletes not cowboys. But even considering that I told myself that I just wasn't ready for that horse to buck and I would be the next time.

I gathered up the reins, and this time when I got ready to mount stood right where his neck and shoulders meet and pulled his head up short so his neck was bent and his head nearly touching my back. I put one foot in the stirrup and swung in the saddle quick so I could get my foot in the other stirrup.

I got a good quick mount, had his head up, and had a hold on my saddle horn with my other hand. He took his first buck and his head was up and I was still in good position. He took another buck and out stouted me for his head and got it down between his legs. I don't know how many jumps I lasted that time. I just know each buck was bone jarring and the next one was worse than the one before. He could feel my weight and knew where I was in the saddle. And with his head still down between his front legs he took a lunge and that time when he bucked I flew like a rifle shot right between his ears.

I was airborne but still thinking; "now hold onto the reins." But when I hit the end of those bridle reins I was still traveling so fast they stripped right through my hand fast enough to literally leave blisters on my fingers right through my leather gloves.

I hit hard that time into a big pile of sage brush. Piling up on my neck and shoulder and then rolling over stunned from the impact. Jughead was standing there with a surprised and very concerned look on his face. His posture was spraddle legged, his ears pitched all the way forward and his eyes bright.

And instead of running away Jughead actually took a few steps towards me as if to say; "Are you sure little human? You went kind of far that time. Are you alright"? All I could do was lay there for a few seconds looking up at him. And all Jughead did was stand there.

In those few seconds though and in the amount of time it took me to get up, the story of Jughead was crystal clear to me. Ted had actually paid someone else to break him. Whoever that was had bucked him out and Jughead had learned very well. In fact maybe he was a natural at it. He was for sure one of the most powerful and stoutest horses I had ever been on. At any rate he had gotten to the point where the other guy couldn't ride him anymore and had given up. And now it was my problem.

There had been enough of a rodeo by then to attract the attention of the other riders and they rode up while I was still gathering up the reins. They were all impressed with seeing the horse buck and one of them was Robby's dad Robert.

"We'll teach him," he told me. "We'll hold him on each side, you get in the saddle, grab a deep seat, short rein and pull leather (grab hold of the saddle horn) and we'll let him go.," he told me.

As I approached Jughead again I wanted to tell Robert I'd done all that the last time, and my instincts were completely opposite. Something in me wanted to pet Jughead, talk to him, walk him around a little bit and then ease up on him. But these guys had years of experience on me and I figured they knew what they were doing. And obviously I had to do something different.

Robert and Robby pressed their horses up on each side of Jughead with each man holding one side of his bridle. I pulled him up short again, swung into the saddle hard and quick trying to sink down into it, had his head pulled up to his nose almost touching my right knee, and a death grip on the saddle horn and then nothing. Instead he just froze for a second like he'd done first thing that morning. Robert and Robby turned loose of his head but he was still frozen. I lurched in the saddle and Jughead responded in kind; lurching, but more twisting this time than bucking because I still had his nose almost touching my knee.

But then I noticed something strange. Jughead was a solid dull bay with a black mane and tail and black stripe down his back. But he had a little patch of blond hair around his penis sheath. Now I did not go around looking at the penis sheaths of horses because for one thing you would have to crawl under one to see it. So how was I seeing Jughead’s I wondered?

The only thing that came to mind was a line from the song Strawberry Roan; “He turns his old belly right up to the sun He sure is a sun-fishin', son-of-a-gun.” Which is when a horse bucks but twists at the same time. I guess I had heard of sun-fishing but had never been on a bronc that could do it.

It was all too perplexing to me I guess and I was apparently too busy contemplating all that to notice I still had Jughead’s head bent to me but he had managed to screw me out of my saddle. Because when I looked down I suddenly realized I was sitting behind the cantel.

That was a first for sure. My saddle didn’t have the highest cantel on the back of the saddle I had ever seen. The highest cantel I ever saw would have come up to the middle of my back. But my saddle was close. It was an old “basket weave” so old the basket looking designs had worn off with a cantel that came up to at least my lower back. Way higher than the saddles we see today. And I had been thrown out of it a time or two before I met Jughead. But never out the back of the saddle.

There I was though sitting behind the cantel when Jughead took what amounted to a little baby buck. Like I said he could feel my weight and knew where I was on him and that little buck positioned me flat on the biggest part of his rump. Then Jughead and I made eye contact and it felt like Jughead dropped to about six inches off the ground and then really bucked. That catapulted me off his rump. I went airborne again but this time straight up into the sky. And I just kept going.

That was another first for me. I had been bucked off lots of horses but never went just straight up in the air. But there was at least one consolation. As I was leaving his ass I watched my empty stirrups slap together above the saddle. It takes a real bucking horse to be able to buck that hard.

I could see the ground getting further and further away from me and that time instead of trying to hold onto the bridle reins I threw them away so they wouldn’t pull me off to the side. “Go Jughead go. You are free. I will walk. And if I never see your ass again it will be too soon” I was thinking.

I don’t know how high I actually went but I do know it was high enough I felt very fortunate that like almost all school children in the 1950’s I had been trained on the trampoline in PE classes. Although I am pretty sure most trampolines had been banned from schools by then due to everything from broken teeth to broken necks and backs and other assorted injuries and law suits.

But fortunately at the moment at least I remembered if you are going straight up in the air and want to land on your feet when you come back down you stick out both arms at a right angle to your body and turn both arms in small clockwise circles. So that’s what I started doing even before I started back down. And when I did start coming down I even had a nice little piece of bare ground picked out to land on.

It worked perfectly at least for that much. I landed on my feet standing straight up right on the piece of bare ground. But the earth is not a trampoline and when I thit the earth it was like hitting four times. First my ankles hard enough to make me think I might have broken them. Then my knees, then my hips hard enough to knock me on my ass. Which was hard enough it felt like my guts and lungs might come loose. And finally my neck and head hard enough to chip my teeth. And with that I just rolled over and curled up in the fetal position.

I wasn’t much interested in actually looking but even from the fetal position I could see a flurry of movement around me. The first of it was Robert and Robby trying to ride in on Jughead again. And Jughead for the first time since I’d met him acting mean aggressive and just generally pissed off. He had his ears pinned back flat to his head with his neck stretched out and mouth open to bite one horse and took a near miss kick at the other horse hard enough to make them all back off. Then Butch dismounting and running towards me. And then finally Jughead taking quick steps to get behind me like he wanted to hide or be protected.

Butch grabbed my cowboy hat off the ground on nearly a full run. He needed it to perform the injured cowboy theory or procedure. It seems to work more often than just a theory but not always enough to be a procedure. But it goes like this. If you can get to a thrown or trampled cowboy that’s still on the ground, put his cowboy hat back on him, and get him to stand up then no harm no foul he’s not injured. But if the cowboy can’t stand up again then you probably have to start figuring out a way to get them to the hospital. Which in our case that day was about 60 miles away and at least a mile or two to the nearest road.

Butch mashed my cowboy hat back on my head and started trying to pull me up to my feet. But the best I could do was kind of meet him half way. I got out of the fetal position to my hands and knees but that was about it. I had to crawl a little ways at first because I didn’t know if I had actually broken anything and it still felt like everything was. It took a few seconds but once I knew I was technically in one piece with a lot of help from Butch I got to my feet and managed to take a few steps. I was hurt but not injured. And then noticed Jughead was following me so I picked up the reins again.

I was standing but not necessarily straight up by then. I was still kind of bent over letting the waves of pain wash over me when Robert and his horse took a couple steps towards me and Jughead pinned his ears back again so Robert stopped.

"God damn that horse can buck," I heard Robert saying. "You almost had him that time. We'll get him. He'll tire out soon.”

I looked at Jughead and he wasn't even breathing hard. Instead he was looking at me concerned again. Then I took a closer look. Jughead wasn't mad or excited. He wasn't rebelling. It finally dawned on me that what he was doing is exactly what he thought I wanted him to do. He liked humans and wanted to cooperate with them and that's what the last human had taught him to do.

I decided I was going to try something different. Well, to be honest it wasn't so much as decided as it was admitting to myself that horse could buck me off anytime he wanted to. I shook off what pain I could and started walking back to Jughead.

"That's it, kid," Robert said, "you'll get him."

"Naw," I said, "let me try something different."

And with that I started walking just leading Jughead. And even that was an exaggeration. I didn’t even have to lead Jughead he just followed me. I was just walking Jughead around a little bit but Robert looked like he was about to have a heart attack and even Butch was looking at me a little pale.

"Steve," Robert said in a voice of deep concern, "you can't lead him back. Ted will fire you and you'll be done, kid."

Let me try to explain that. Maybe you're heard the phrase; "if you're thrown from a horse you have to get right back on." Some people use it as a metaphor for if you fail at something you have to just try it again. But it’s not a metaphor when it comes to humans and horses. It’s a plain hard fact. Mostly for the horse because the last thing you can do is let them get the wrong idea, or maybe to be more honest, let them realize the truth, that horses are much more powerful than humans which means they can be the boss. The only way you can do that in a situation like this is keep getting back on until the horse doesn’t buck you off anymore.

But it’s also so very important for humans. What Robert was saying was not just that if I didn't get back on him my reputation as a cowboy would be forever lost. I would never live it down. But more importantly if I lost my courage and didn't get back on that horse I might never find the courage to get on another horse again.

"I'm not leading him back," I told Robert, trying to stand my ground, "just let me calm him down a minute and try something different."

"Calm him down," Robert mocked back, "Christ Steve he's almost asleep now. Come on, we'll hold him up and buck him out again. He'll quit."

"Good idea," I heard a new voice say behind me, "but Steve and I will hold him this time and you get on him, Robert."

It was Monty who'd ridden from a far ridge. No one saw him coming and Monty kind of snuck up on us even on horseback which should have been impossible but Monty was really good at it.

Robert was mumbling that he was Ted's lease partner not someone being paid to break horses. And Monty was saying he didn’t think Robert was willing to get on him as he was swinging out of the saddle next to me a Jughead.

"God damn Ted and his fucking outlaws," Monty said. "You in one piece, kid"? he asked. "Looks like he can really buck. He's thrown you twice now hasn't he"?

"Three times," I muttered, "but Monty, he ain't an outlaw. Watch this." And with that I started to walk off like I was going to lead him but I didn't have to. As soon as I took a step Jughead just followed me everywhere I went with the reins slack.

"So he leads," Monty observed, "here let me take him," he added.

Well I couldn't do that anymore than I could lead him back to the cow camp. He was my horse, my responsibility and in a very real way just the same as getting thrown and not getting back on the horse. And besides Monty was no spring chicken and the one thing we all agreed on was Jughead could really buck and Monty might not be able to ride him either.

"No, I think I got him Monty," I told him. " I think he's just got the wrong idea. Let me get him to thinking about something else and see if easy does it. He's not an outlaw he just don't know."

"Steve" Monty said looking mighty serious, "he God damn sure knows how to buck and I'm not going to stand around here and watch you break your neck over some cowboy bullshit, and by God it happens. We'll tie a hind foot up on him and you can wear him out that way."

That would work. What you do is tie a big bowline around the base of the horse's neck and then run the rope down around the horses hind leg between its hoof and fetlock with a couple hitches. Then run rope back through the loop around the horse's neck forcing the horse’s leg off the ground and tie it off so the horse can't get his hind foot back on the ground. It takes almost all the power out of them. But the problem is it can also be a real leg breaker if the horse fights it and the odds are even if and when the horse falls whether it will be the horse's leg or yours that gets broken.

"Monty," I said almost pleading, "just let me try him one more time, and if he bucks again we'll go ahead and tie a hind foot up on him and I'll work him. But at least let me try this first"

Monty pondered for a few seconds and then asked "you want me to hold him."

"No" I answered "just let me get him off over here a little ways by ourselves, and see if easy does it with him."

Monty just nodded and with that I started to walk off with Jughead following me. And Monty mounted up again positioning himself between me and the other riders in case I needed a pickup man like you see in the rodeos.

Once we got a little distance from the other riders and horses I stopped and turned around and petted Jughead’s muzzle and started to scratch behind his ears. He liked that I could tell. Then holding his head in both my hands, scratching and petting as I looked him in the eyes I said; "Let's you and me start over. You ain't so bad are you? Let's you and me be friends."

In the distance I could hear Robert starting to mutter something about we didn't have all day for me to try to turn that horse into a barnyard pet but then I heard Monty say; "Robert," with some meaningful emphasis, "it's his horse." That was kind of cowboy code speak for "shut the fuck up and leave the kid and his horse alone."

After I'd scratched and petted a little more while saying things like "easy boy and good horse" I moved to the point of his shoulder again but didn't pull him up close. I was just standing there for a minute because I was a little scared and I figured the last thing I could do was hit the saddle with fear.

You've heard that horses can sense fear in humans but there's two kinds. If its an older horse and they sense your fear they know they can take advantage of you. But if it’s a younger horse like Jughead they are kind of afraid of humans anyway. So when they sense your fear they figure if they're afraid of you, and you're afraid of something else whatever you're afraid of must be something so terrible it will eat you both. Which can panic them.

I'd left the reins slack but while I was standing there trying to calm down I felt Jughead bend his head around and when I felt it touch my back my first thought was he was going to bite me. But instead he was just scratching his forehead and ears against my back as if to say; "Well as long as you're just standing there you missed a spot."

That was enough encouragement for me to put my foot in the stirrup and this time I eased into my saddle soft and gentle. Jughead tensed like a coiled spring and I was thinking here we go again but I whispered to him, "It's ok, easy boy" and patted his neck.

Jughead relaxed a little and so did I but we were still just standing there frozen in his tracks. I actually had to think for a few seconds what to do next and instead of nudging him with my heels I finally just made a couple of clucking sounds and leaned forward in the saddle. Jughead just picked up his head and started walking.

By that time Monty, Butch, Robby and Robert were just sitting on their horses leaning their hands on their saddle horns and when I looked past them all the calves and cows were scattered from hell to breakfast.

"We're burning daylight," I told them, meaning we ought to get moving. "I think I've got him but let me ride drag until he gets the hang of things," I added.

That meant they would gather the cows and calves and I'd ride behind the main heard. That was fine with them because nobody likes to eat the dust kicked up by the cows and calves. But I'd had plenty of excitement for one day and a little dust wouldn't bother me now compared to the mouthfuls I'd already eaten being thrown to the ground.

I am pretty sure all of us in the back of our heads were thinking Jughead was going to blow up again and buck me off. But the further we went the better he got. He was kind of learning what I wanted and seemed a natural at being really careful where he stepped so he didn’t accidentally step on a calf.

And much to my surprise, as in I nearly fell off him, when we got to a creek crossing with a high bank on the right some cows and calves tried to make a break for it. And Jughead made a quick move jumped the steep bank and cut them off. Now that was being a really good horse.

Robert thought I did it on purpose and hollered; “That’s it Steve. Work him. Wear him out.”

And that kind of pissed me off. Robert obviously still had Jughead figured all wrong. I decided I would try one more test to show all of them so I pulled Jughead up and got off him to check my cinch.

I even pulled the latigo a little tighter before I stood at the point of his shoulder to get on Jughead again. I put my foot in the stirrup and I am sure everyone including me was holding their breath as I eased into the saddle again. But that time Jughead didn’t even tense up. And as soon as I even leaned forward in the saddle he just took of walking again.

There were no further incidences. There weren’t even very many of the neighbor’s cows and calves we had to cut out. And Ted’s cows knew their way home and lined out with their calves in tow so we didn’t really have to even drive them. Other than me getting buked off three times and still feeling some pain it was actually kind of an easy and early day by Monty’s standards when we road into the into the Bow And Arrow.

But I didn’t know what to think when we unsaddled at the barn and Monty turned Jughead out into the allotment instead of the horse pasture. Or maybe I didn’t know how I felt about that. It made sense in one way because I wasn’t going to ride him the next day. But it also seemed like Monty’s way of saying I just wasn’t going to ride Jughead again any more than the broomtail. And I didn’t know how I felt about that. We had kind of bonded I thought. I really liked Jughead and thought maybe he liked me. And even if Jughead could buck me off any time he wanted I kind of wanted to ride him again and was willing to take that chance.

But then Micky stuck her head out the cabin door and yelled “dinner” and then that’s all I could think about. It hadn’t been the longest day but it was a hard one and I was starving.