Like a Rhinestone Cowboy . . .

So the last few days have been interesting. When I last tried to make an entry, I was in Malad Idaho, at their Library, and they decided to close an hour early due to the holiday weekend. Having been thrown out of a library (a first for me, really) I headed back to the fair grounds, to see several men setting up the fireworks display for the 4th, a day early.
It appeared that the fireworks for the town were to be shot off from the fair grounds on the 3rd this year, about 30 feet from where the s were corralled. With permission, I moved them to the arena til after the display was over, an additional 100 feet from ground zero. I climbed into the stands and waited for the sun to go down and the reaction from the mares. Promptly at 10 p.m. the first shots were fired and . . . nothing. Mystic and Delightful barely looked up from their search of the arena for possible food. It was a good display with screamers and whistlers and explosion after explosion and I don't think those mares even gave one jump, start or spook. Now if they had been releasing flocks of ducks onto the fair grounds, they probably would have torn down the arena fence and headed back to Oregon, lucky for me that wasn't part of the display.

The next day, it was Ken and Kristy Eliason to the rescue, they sent their son over with an old felt pad that I cut holes in over Mystics saddle sores to allow them to heal better and we were off again. I would have liked to stay for several more days to rest Mystic, but Ray Davis, the Grounds manager was unable to find anyone willing to donate more hay. We headed up through 2 Mile, a short cut through the mountains, which oddly enough is longer than 2 miles. We made great time, trotting on the dirt roads off and on throughout the morning, until I came around a bend and spied a truck and trailer. As I slowed to a walk, I saw a cowboy ride up, step off and load up his horse in the trailer, and decided to ask his opinion of what path would be best to take.

Now this cowboy ended up being one Brooks Clark, Cousin to the Eliasons, and a wonderful and impressive man. Upon hearing what I was doing, he promptly offered me an ice cold coke (woohoo), a chair and a snack cake. We sat and talked for a spell and he made me realize that I am not as tough as I think I am. He had just been through one of the worst physical years of his life, starting with a bad four wheeler accident and ending up with an infection that the drugs used to treat it almost killed him. He was told no less than 6 times that there was nothing that the doctors could do, and he was going to die, but here he sat, next to me, sharing a coke and a little debbie cake. When I feel tired and sore and that I can't go on, I am going to think of him and tell myself to stop being such a wimp.

Brooks directed me to the eastern road and gave me another shortcut to Dayton. He then finished his work replacing a fence the cattle had torn out and met me at the next cattle guard to open the pass through gate for me and helped me get the stubborn Pei Pei over her first gully. Thank you Brooks, you are an inspiration, I am sure Glen Cambell had you in mind when he wrote the song, just minus the rhinestones.

Well that day ended up being a long one, I got to Dayton only to find that it is a town that has everything, Town Hall, Post Office, Several Schools, Park, Public Works Dept, etc etc., just no restaurants and the only store in town is closed on Sundays, so I rode the extra 5 miles to Preston. Where I met Kevin Hanson, a wonderful man that brought the s 1 bale of hay and 2 of alfalfa and is getting us more so we can stay here til Sunday. At last Mystic's back will have a chance to fully heal. Then we head for Wyoming, ooh boy!