When the cowboys got together for a week of fun and work, they all pitched in. They knew their job. Not one cowboy would shirk.
They would drive down into Utah, lock behind them winter’s gate. Excitement filled the air. One cowboy said, “It’s worth the wait!”
The trailer doors were opened, horses loaded one by one. The drive would be familiar, headed south to desert sun.
They checked their gear at Peter’s barn. Some found a place to park. Then they jumped into the trucks. They always left at midnight’s mark.
The cowboy riding shotgun helped the driver stay awake. The two in back would sleep unless the driver hugged the brake.
They’d stop and meet more cowboys with their trucks and trailer load. A caravan of cowboys burning rubber down the road.
The destination came too fast for those who fell asleep. But the driver’s eyes were bloodshot, barely squinting to a peep.
The cowboys settled in and set up camp with all their gear. Then the trail boss reminisced about the change from year to year.
He said, “Remember breakfasts. You’d be freezing while you ate. And now we have a big green tent for all to congregate.”
There’s room to set up kitchen, with a wood stove worth-the-while. The cook has room to toss a steak and feed us all in style.
He talked about the lot of us. Good men who can’t be beat. He mentioned one who won’t be back. There sits an empty seat.
The trail boss said, “Remember all the places that we’ve camped. Those memories are so vivid, kinda like our brains are stamped.”
“Remember when the desert wind blew tents and gear away. So we set up camp in one horse trailer, packed like rats to stay.”
Our campfire was the cookstove, yet it kept us toasty warm. Inside the trailer, nice and calm. Outside a blowing storm.
And then he said, “Just look around. The bond that has become is tighter than a dally wrapped around the header’s thumb!”
The cowboys shook their heads and looked each other In the eye. ‘Cuz the bond they share means more to them than Grandma’s apple pie.
Will the cowboys get together for another yearly ride? For sure there’ll be at least one more. I’d bet my last frog hide.
