RAGS TO WILDERNESS

I had dreamed of owning a pack string since I can remember. After spending summers hiking the trails in the Frank Church Wilderness it was time for me to think about making that dream come true. Only problem was I had no money to buy the stock needed. Thinking of ways to make it happen, I came up with the idea of adopting wild mustangs from the Bureau of Land Management. After making multiple phone calls, the only place at the time that I found that had wild horses for sale was in Eugene, Oregon. These were animals taken from the wild from the eastern side of the state. At fifty dollars apiece, this was something that I found that I could afford to live with. Out of the five horses that I picked out, one was a large white mustang that I named Hawk, and he was to become my riding horse.

     Talking with a rancher at the corrals, I made a deal with him to board the mustangs until I could return to pick them up. Once back in Montana where I now lived, I had managed to rent enough acreage to keep the animals. Now it was time to make the trip to bring them home. I talked my sister into letting me borrow her new red Camaro to pull my old dented up but still usable topless, brown, two horse trailer to make it happen.  

     Once Hawk was loaded into the trailer, I found that he would bite and fight anything that came near him, including myself. So this being my first trip over I would have to bring just the one horse, as it was impossible to deal with him while he was next to another.

     The night before I had partied with some new found friends most of the night and I was deep in a hangover the following morning. Being young and crazy, I felt the best cure was to start drinking again. My sister’s ex-husband had made the journey over with me to bring the mustang’s home. I talked him into doing the driving back to Montana.  

     After hours of driving, we made the turn into Syringa, Idaho to grab a late breakfast. It had to be a sight to watch such a contraption pull up alongside the cafe’s big plate glass windows with the sounds of chaos replacing the quiet mornings air. I made my exit with long hair falling down over my shoulders, wearing cut off jeans that I had made with my pocket knife along with being barefoot. Making our entrance inside I’m sure we made quite the impression to the two elderly couples sitting at the table next to the large plate glass windows that faced the vehicle and trailer. Receiving their stares, the two of us set down at the table next to them. I yelled out at the waitress that we would be having two of there best steaks with eggs over easy and hashbrowns. By this time, I was pretty tuned up while still taking chugs from a bottle of Jack Daniels on the way here. After finishing the meal, I left the waitress a fifty-dollar tip while thanking her.

As we walked up to the car and trailer, I came up with the bright idea that I would climb onto Hawks back while we made our exit up the highway. With the four elderly people along with the waitress and cook standing at the large windows with eyes wide open, they watched as the horse tried to buck me off as I climbed on. I managed to stay on with both hands wrapped into Hawks mane while yelling, “Yee Haw!” That was all that my friend needed to hear as the Camaro roared to life with tires spitting gravel as he punched it. We took off like a rocket. The trailer jerked hard, snapping me backwards, while me finding it not funny anymore. This caused the horse to explode into motion while slamming me from side to side into the wall of the trailer and center divider.

I wasn’t the funny guy anymore; I was the guy hanging on for dear life. The horse went completely off the charts as I so desperately tried to stay on its back. Every jump that it made gave me the fear that I could be sent into the air to land on dry pavement.

AI Generated Image – You get the idea!!