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6-17-09 004_edited-1-2
Rolling Like the Tumbleweed

WAGONTEAMSTER .COM

3/23/10, Brownfield, TX - Like the tumbleweed blown against this fence row, we rolled down the road until we found some good folks at the end of the day. I think B.O.B, the horse is secretly writing philosophical notes and tying them to tumbleweed, hoping some farmer or rancher will read them miles away and months from now.  How he does that with his size 8 hooves, I have no idea; but I spied several tumbleweeds with pieces of paper tied to them.

After saying my goodbyes, I thanked the ĎWeeksí and bid them a fond adieu.

Since I shorted the horses a little on their normal amount of hay, I gave the them an extra ration of oats this morning. Now. itís not the smartest thing in the world to give a horse with A.D.D., like Bill extra oats.  By the time he was hitched up, he was literally pawing the ground, anxious to get on the road. Iím sure the ĎWeeksí cats will make good use of the hole he dug in the drive.

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The ground was flat, and the day was nice, so we made good time and enjoyed the drive. About once an hour someone would pull over in their car to talk. While were having lunch in some Sorghum stubble, a nice guy named Rival stopped to chat with us. He lives up the road about 40 miles and always wanted to hitch up the team to a wagon and hit the road, but he never got around to it.  Now heís retired, and spends his time just being with different folks that are ill, and in the hospital. Iíve spent some time lying on my back in a hospital, and having some nice company is a comforting thing.

Tonight, weíre camped on the Western edge of Brownsfield, at the Raynero family residence. Wally and his wife have two teenage boys, that are into horses, cattle and archery.  They each have several trophies to show for their skill with compound and re-curve bows.

Wally has me setup with a stop tomorrow night at a cotton gin, about 13 miles down the road. While close, itís a convenient overnight stop, as there isnít anything else. until I get to the town of Levelland, another 18 miles further down the road.  Wally took me on a short recon of the route and we looked over perspective camping spots at the gin.  On the way back, he was kind enough to take his boys and I out to the local Chinese Buffet.

Remember that hay shortage I had last night - well itís gone.  Wally just happened to have 8 really nice bales of alfalfa hay. One of my mottos is: If itís not in the same league as World Hunger, or Nuclear Disarmament, it ainít worth worrying about.  Problems have a way of getting solved all by themselves.

The horses are fat on a bunch of green rye grass, and are now finishing off their second bale of alfalfa; Iím stuffed on Chinese food; and Clementine is begging for more bologna (strange dog).