Mark got a call from Slim last week. He was in the canyon and ready to do some fence checking and repair down this way before bringing more cattle down. "If you care to come along, I'll help you unload that fancy new freezer when we're done." What a deal! I certainly wasn't looking forward to the prospect of moving the freezer now perched in the back of Mark's truck. So, pretty soon, Slim arrives in his 'scooter' (don't ask me why a cowboy would call an ATV a scooter but cowboys have a strange way of looking at things sometimes). Three dogs, fence posts, wire and tools and ready to roll. Mark hopped in and they disappeared eastwards in no time flat. They were going to check the fencing which spans creek and washes out on a regular basis. Given the sandy nature of the creek bed, there is no fence designed to survive its running, eroding waters so you just have to keep up with the repairs.
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Above: Slim shuts down the ATV and they tackle the freezer move in short order. That story will be covered when I do a post on how we keep things cold off-the-grid. As soon as they were done and Slim was settled into his customary roost on the chesterfield, he announces loudly "Well, we almost lost Mark today." You know that's a teaser for a new cowboy story. "Awww ... you didn't lurch him out of that infernal 'scooter', did ya?" "Hell no! I'm talking serious here!" I wasn't sure if I wanted to hear exactly what serious was but I knew I was going to anyway. There was a slight hint of a cat's grin on his face and this tale was going to be too good to hold in any longer.
They had found a well-worn cattle and game trail down to the creek bed and headed to the fence line straddling the creek. Sure enough, the fence had been flattened, probably by a big cottonwood limb, so they stopped at one end of the fence and walked out to the flattened spot.
Mark was slightly ahead of Slim on the quest as they made their way across the damp sand bed. All was going well and then, according to Slim, Mark stepped in a spot that looked as firm as any other and sank "... darn near to to his thigh!". Then he stopped to admonish me "Those fancy rubber boots you like so much? Well, if he'd been wearing those, he's STILL be there - I ain't kidding ya!" At that point I glanced over at Mark now slouched comfortably into his wing chair. Without a word of protest or self-defense, Mark sighed ever so lightly and pointed down to the mud and sand still clinging to his shoes and well up past his knees.
Quicksand! Who would have thought? The only time we had encountered quicksand was in old Westerns. Seemed like every other episode involved someone falling into quicksand and fighting for their lives, so much so that you'd think it was everywhere. Eventually you thought "Yeah, another non-existent legend." Well, what a way to find out that quicksand does exist.
So Slim, not done with his story-telling, related the story of going down to another neighbor's ranch that week to round up strays. He said "So we rode the horses down across the big wash and darned if Ruby didn't sink in up to her shoulders in quicksand! I kicked out of the stirrups and dropped to one side of her and she sort of rested on me - which kind of kept her from sinking any deeper." Mark, now consumed by the excitement of the tale, exclaimed "Wow, so you being nearly under her is what saved her?!" Slim, being quite pleased that someone bit at his story bait, then said "Nah, but don't it make for a great cowboy tale?" That's our boy. And thankfully, Ruby did make it out on her own.
But he continued on the serious side, noting that being caught in the stirrups or having a horse get caught up in the reins is a sure way to get yourself killed while they are panicking and struggling to get out of the quicksand. This particular cowboy is not helping any desire on our part to pick up horses for ourselves in the future - and that's a fact.
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And now to address a flurry of birthday wishes:
To Mark, who you can see in the ATV photos above. He's still looking good as ever and STILL getting carded! I suspect that he is really Dorian Gray and I am his portrait - that's all I can figure.
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To my sister (above). Enjoying retirement now but was a securities desk trader for years and eventually one of the first woman stock traders on the exchange floor. I even kept her magazine interview on the subject - my, how times have changed. . .
To my nephew (above): the BIG Dallas fan. Just an all-round decent kid and my former carousing buddy when I went home to visit, often to the chagrin of his mother (already shown above). .
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To my buddy Sinclair (above): SUPREME gearhead. Retired CEO of Saab NA, has owned just about anything really cool with two or four-wheels and a motor. Even ran the Baja with Malcolm Forbes. Here is a guy with tales to keep you around the campfire all night. Shown here with his Kawa-based Harris from England. He's having some health issues right now that I hope he can kick in the butt. He's been a loyal friend through much adversity and I have a long memory. .
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23 comments:
How would you like a couple of Arabians. A guy up here had over 100 seized because he wasn't taking care of them. The SPCA stepped in because they were starving(the horses, not the SPCA). They apparently will be going up for auction. Send MONEY and I'll buy for you.
That was another great read babe, and great pictures. I saw a thing once, one of those survival shows, where they said all you had to do to get out of quicksand was basically relax and roll out of it. Slowly work your way out. of course, everyone who's seen all the old westerns we've seen will probably panic and end up drowning, or at least soiling their undies.
What a handsome pair of fellows!
Send my birthday regards to Slim!
Thats quite a funny looking scooter...
Shown here with his Kawa-based Harris from England.
I'm glad Mark made it out safe and sound, with only a lil bit o' mud to show for the experience.
Now about that scoot, which is an amazing looking piece of machinery (I love that massive aluminum casting), not the least for its color. What WAS it with the orange, anyway? This pic has to be from the mid-70s, right?
(I wasn't immune from orange-obsession, either... but I won't digress. Except to say I never had an orange vehicle of any sort.)
What a story...things I wish I could have experienced back in the day.
I loved all the photos too...thanks for sharing your life with us.
Awww, Moose, don't get me going with such dreams - that sounds SO cool - to rescue an Arabian! I have this feeling that Slim would feel like he'll inherit the responsibility of overseeing the well-being of any horses that end up down here and would prefer to avoid that. Sigh, it's so fancifully tempting otherwise.
FHB, I must have read that same quicksand approach somewhere because that's what I told Mark later - get flat and wide like a mason's trowel and ride the surface. To me, it makes sense that a mass with dispersed surface area will float easier than a vertical fence post (or leg). Quig told us that even something with the mass and weight of a D8 still has excellent 'float' because of its large grouser track area - the PSI being so widely distributed.
Still, like you say, you remember the panic from the old Westerns and that last vanishing hand before it disappears into the ooze for good.
Phlegmmy, I know that 'the boys' will really appreciate your comments and wishes - you know how they get. It'll make their day and then some.
That's what I thought, Alex ... "Scooter?! Oh well, whatever, dear cowboy."
Buck, yeah, I suppose it could have been much worse an outcome with the quicksand. But Slim would have never come home without him in viable shape - lest he have to answer to "the ol' lady." Fear factor is a great motivator.
Nothing like the Brits for being able to pound out an alloy tank by hand. I envy that smithing talent beyond all reason. Friends and I still discuss that subject in hushed and reverential tones.
Red never did explain what that small orange beast was, did he? Maybe sanity returned and he'd just as soon not talk about it now. I wouldn't either, frankly.
I think vehicular orange is a color which just has to grow on you from good association. In my case, it was the only 'ready to roll' Commando that the dealer had at the time. Eventually I realized that being recognized 3000 miles from home would have never happened on a classic black Commando so it grew on me by and by.
Mushy, we've still got plenty of adventures in store out here - just remember 2009, okay? You're not done with life's adventures by a LONG ways - you've got too much good blog left to write. Apparently this is another perfect place to find it, too.
we call ATv's Quads here. :o)
Your sister was in StocksQ! funny! my daughter has just started in a Stock broking company in Sydney!
HAppy 45 years!
So, I may have to explain about the "Orange Flash". If Mark and Slim had been on the Orange Flash, they would have sailed right thru that quick sand. Red
Simon, now that you mention it, Ive heard them called quad-runners over here, more so after the demise of the three wheelers.
I think your daughter will like working at the brokerage. A half dozen of us seemed destined to do a stint in the trade at one time or another.
Yes, Red, Buck wants to know what that abomination is because he is a broadly inquisitive soul. But did you have to remind me of its name? The jury can be reconvened on that dementia verdict, dontchya know.
Oh Lord. As if lizards and snakes and ugly bugs and coyotes and mountain lions and treacherous rivers and snow weren't enough, now I can add quicksand to my nightmare line-up.
Babzy, is that cool or what? I keep telling you that you will love the place but you just won't listen!
And---if I read it correctly---it was pretty much YOUR fault that he stepped in the quicksand---WITHOUT those rubber boots YOU like so well...?
I thought he was gonna say:"If it weren't for those rubber boots you like so well, he'd still be stuck in the quicksand! But fortunately, I pulled him OUT of the things, and let the empty boots sink to---wherever!"
Bruno, isn't it funny how "the moral to the story" managed to justify Slim's severe disapproval of our dorky outlander billy boots? We embarrass the hell out of that boy - and take a sort of devilish pride in it along the way. Sure makes for some great bar banter later though.
I love the dogs tagging along in the back...LOL!
How deep does quicksand go?
Whoa! A Harris GPZ Kawi is something, a well massaged bike - that trusswork to take the flex out of the swingarm and get rid of the "hinge-in-the-middle" effect is quite something - plus it's got a rear disc! He's wearing an Aerostitch so it's relativly recent shot, hope he feels better soon.
Goddess, Slim brings those dogs EVERYWHERE - even the deaf and blind ancient one that has been as faithful as the day is long to him. Slim does not forget loyalty and friendship.
I suppose the quicksand can run seemingly bottomless, depending on the climate at the moment. I've heard stories that entire bulldozers have disappeared forever in these things. Luckily, Mark scrambled fast enough that this mire didn't drag him under more than mid-thigh (and it's a good thing that mid-thigh is way higher on him than us and that we didn't find it first!)
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