He explains it better than I can. For Cal.

[Tap]

I have been too busy lately to post much. I thought late calving was easier. Kinda runs into haying and fencing around here.

Back to the subject at hand. We were discussing why some of us prefer working horseback a while ago in a thread, vs. other methods, and I thought this poem by Waddie Mitchell pretty much sums it up for me.

Commutin'

There ain't nothin' like the feeling that you get down deep inside,
As you trot out in the morning, when you've hired on to ride.

When your mounts enthusiastic, and the air is crisp and new,
And there's lively conversation goin' on amongst the crew.

There's some bridle crickets chirpin',
Jinglebobs tap out a tune on one side,

The sun is risin', just ahead there sits the moon,
Shadows hightrot there beside you, elongated, keepin' pace,
Reassurin' you ain't hobbled by restrict of time or space,

Out in front the boss is postin' to the same beat as a song,
The realization hits ya', you're right where you belong,
It's then you start appreciating, you're on trails where few have trod,
And you wonder how you ever doubted if there really is a God.

Atop a ridge the boss reins in, so we all gather up around,
It's from here he'll call the circle,

So you step off to the ground, loosen up your latigo, air your pony's back,
You arrange again the blankets, realign your kack,
Then you mount back up to get dropped off,
Check to see who's on each side,
Your glad that you're a cowboy, and you feel this twinge of pride.

You ate breakfast by the Coleman, hurried round to beat the sun,
You've got eleven miles behind you, but it's here the works begun.

Now in town when folks must travel to their workplace everyday,
It's said that they're commuting to their job to earn their pay.

They'll choke in crazy traffic jams, fight for seats on bus or train,
It's a wonder that this ritual doesn't drive 'em all insane.

We too, I guess, commute to work as the job at hand dictates,
But we COMMUNE while we're commuting, and what a difference that makes.

[DJL]

[Shortgrass]

Nice poem. I couldn't have said it as well either.

[Jerry H]

godd poem tap
that's the only way to comute
until later
jerry

[Faster horses]

Good one.

I always enjoy Waddie's poetry. He gets to making the words rhyme
sometimes in the middle of the sentence as he did here. I really
like that. (Here he did it in a couple of places; I only caught it because I have learned to watch for it in his works.)

I'd like to have the words to his, "The last longhorn's gone and the
campfire's gone out." It is so haunting...

If anyone has it, I'd sure enjoy seeing it posted here.

Do you have a book or something of his, Tap?

[Cal]

[Jerry H]

[Soapweed]

[Julie]

Faster Horses...is this the one?


The last breathin' longhorn
Lay dyin' by the river
For the lack of vegetation
The cold wind made him shiver
The cowboy sat beside him
With sadness in his face
To see the fatal passing
Of this last and noble race.
The longhorn quivered
And raised his shaking head
Saying, I do not care to linger
When all my friends are dead
These jerseys and Holsteins
They are no friend of mine
They belong to the noble man
That lives across the brine
Tell the Durham and the Hereford
When they come agrazin' round
And see me lyin' stark and stiff
Upon the frozen ground
I don't want them to bellow
Because I am dead
For I was born in Texas
Near the river that is red
Tell the coyotes when they come at night
A' lookin' for their prey
They might as well go further;
They'll find it will not pay
For if they attempt to eat me
They very soon will see
My bones and hide are petrified
They'll find no beef on me.
I remember back in the 70s
For many summers put
When there's grass and water plenty
But is was too good to last
And a little dream came to me
Some twenty summers hence, here
Come the farmer with his wife
And kids, his dogs and his barbed wire fence
The cowboy rose up sadly
And mounted his cayouse
Sayin' the day has come
When cowboys and longhorns are no use
He rode off a-gazin' backward
Upon the dead bovine
His bronco stepped in a foghole
And fell down and broke his spine
Now, you'll miss him at the round-up
It’s gone, his merry shout
The cowboys' left the country
And the camp fires' gone out.

[Cal]

[Cal]

[BRG]

Cal,

Our pastures in the grand river breaks are made for a horse. Their are places you can't get across, the horse has to either walk in water that is shoulder deep, go through standing and fallen trees, or climb hills that are to steep for an ATV, and then last summer when it was so dry, you didn't dare take a machine with a muffler out unless you had a fire truck following you. 4 Wheelers have their place, in big open country when you just send them out to gather a herd, but when it comes to sorting pairs, or working with the terrain that some of us have. They just don't work.

Our next door neighbor is a big 4 wheeler man, but about 3 times a year he calls to bring our horse to help him Dr something.

A few years ago, a neighbor rented a big chunk of ground next to us, and he wrecked his 4 wheeler 3 or 4 times that summer climbing the breaks and the final time, he one was hauled out with a helicopter to the Bismarck hospital. I don't remember the last time I got hurt on a horse.

But, some people are way better on a horse than the next guy, and I am sure it is the same way for a 4 wheeler. Tap, JB, and Soap are better on a horse and you are better on a 4 wheeler. Just the way it is.