I took Smoke and Phlame out for their New Year stroll, we avoided the ice and trotted when we could. They tossed their heads and pranced in place wishing they could break out and stretch their winter muted muscles. I would have allowed more romping , but just ahead of me tossing sticks and snowballs where my two equally frisky Grandsons.When we would get to close, I would tell the horses to whoa, and wait for the 4 and 6 year old to get a bit further ahead. I was amazed how quickly Smoke and Phlame learned to keep the youngsters ahead of them. When they boys took off in a run the horses would ask to trot and catch-up and as soon as we did they would slow to a walk. If they stopped suddenly to ask me a question, or point out some "deer poop" (they love to say that), Smoke and Phlame would stop in their tracks and listen to the playful chatter.
My days lately have been more Grandma than horsewoman. The horses were happy to get out, but they seem to understand I have other boys in my life and are, greatfully willing to share me.
My father litteraly grew up on a ranch in the corner of Cokeville,Wyoming and a corner of Idaho. It was five thousand acres and they would run sheep and cattle. When they sold it , Hod Sanders of Utah's Clover Club potatoe chips bought it and eventually sold it off in pieces. It was next to the ranch of Covey,Dayton the eventual owners of the Little America Hotels. My Dad learned a form of spanish as he spent most of his summers with Basque sheep herders. When I was at home my father had a beautiful quarter horse that they would race with another of his friends quarter horses in the winter (like chariot racing but with a sleigh). They only did it two winters with much success because my father felt it was causing a problem with his horses back leg. I have his saddle that was made especially for him with his initials on the back of it.I also have his yellow slicker and often wonder what I should do to preserve it for fear it will dry out. I used to ride quite well, but haven't for years now. Thank you for the snippets that I read of your adventures. How did you and your Mom become horsewoman? Your grandchildren are just darling. Happy New Year to all of you. Sandy Bergholm
wyoming and a small corner of Idaho.
Posted by: Sandy J. Bergholm | 01/01/2012 at 05:30 PM
Sandy, I love your story! The Chariot race sound so fun! I have so many memories of horses, family , and friends in my life also. My mother had a pony when she was young, and we had horses living in Montana in the mid to late 60's. My Dad grew up on the Crow Indian Reservation close to Lodge Grass Mont. and rode horses until he left the ranch. I never gave up riding and rode when I could though my teen years. On my 28th birthday Larry bought me a horse and we have had horses ever since. My Mom got back into riding in the mid 90's when she rode with me and adopted a horse we had at our old place here in Franktown. Come ride with us sometime!
Posted by: Carol Crisp | 01/04/2012 at 10:17 PM
I never read this type of article before. I appreciate you for the article you have written. Thanks.
Posted by: Wyoming Horse Ranch | 01/11/2012 at 12:05 AM