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Ranch Tales Along The Trail

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Mountain Cowgirl

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North Central Oregon
Starting this thread so we can share favorite ranch stories along our life's trail and have them in an easy-to-find place. Here are two of my favorites.

The Feed Store

I was at the feed store with my dad on my 8th birthday. I had just picked out a pocket knife for my gift. They let me have it while my dad put in his order for feed and other supplies.

I wandered to the back where the feed was loaded. A wonderful kind gentleman, that had known me for years, loaded the feed and while he waited for the next order, he carved on his walking stick. He was loading when I wandered back and felt the call to test my new knife. I sat down and started carving on his stick. My dad came back and saw me about the time the loader did. He spoke first, and it suddenly struck me what I had done.

He said, "Well that's a mighty fine chicken head, young lady." I apologized for not asking permission because I knew that is what my father would request. He said no problem because I was an artist and welcome to carve on his stick every time I visited the store.

Here is a carving I did a few years back in honor of that memory.
I still have that old pocket knife.
New Image.jpg


The Wrangler Detectives

I loved reading Nancy Drew as a child and was always looking for a mystery to solve and impress the neighbor boys that thought they were the cat's meow and the dog's bark when it came to investigating the low crimes and miss demeanors that occurred in those mountains parts. I even purposely left an easy-to-see fingerprint on a gate latch on one of my mystery creations for these Hardy Boys to solve. They had no clue. Each blamed the other and claimed they had matched their brother's prints, so I conspired with their mother for my master mystery. It was taboo to leave a gate open on a ranch, even if no animals were in its confinement. I left a paddock gate open and purposely made very easy-to-see footprints with my boots. The sole and heel were unmistakable.

Well, these young sleuths (ages 8, 9, and 10) each did a plaster cast and took measurements, and argued their case to their dad (he also was in on the scam) blaming the other brother. Their mother called me to come over and witness this pre-trial Judge's only hearing. I sat there facing the accused, all pleading their case with hard evidence against the other, and I had my legs crossed and the bottom of one boot facing them. I even put a little mud around where the soles met the uppers. They each had a theory of why their cast matched the other brother's boots somewhat. All their theories had some merit and validity. Then their mother burst out laughing and stood and pointed to my boot sole. The youngest that had a quick temper, threw his plaster cast down and it shattered everywhere as he stormed off to his room and forensics lab. They refused to play any more detective after that. Silly girl stuff they called it. That ended my Nancy Drew ranch girl amazing super-sleuth days.
 
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