Author: Heather Countryman

Montana girl living in Reno, Nevada.

All In

Heather Countryman1 Comment

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Being all in. I struggle with it. Whether it’s jobs, relationships, and adventures and decisions. And then I reserve and hold back and overthink until the time passes, uncomfortably. Self doubt…because what if I don’t meet expectations? My own…someone else’s? Then the justification sets in…I tell myself I didn’t do it because it wasn’t the right time or it just wasn’t meant to be. I look for the comfort in my justification. Then I think of the importance of living in the moment and wonder why the hell not? And I am all in…almost. And the justification of why’s and why nots and self validation rears itself again and again. And I complicate the choices I make. I muddy the waters just to clear them. I throw rocks in the puddles just to stop the ripples. And I wonder…will I ever just be all in? That peace of assuredness doesn’t knock frequently in my mind. But while I’m over thinking the next big decision or idea or should I of?, life happens. And it happens in such a soft and mild and endearing way, that I settle softly into routine. And maybe that’s the answer in the end. To just be grateful for the chance to choose my action or reaction. And be all in. Just for a moment.🌼

Motherhood: Challenge Accepted

Heather Countryman1 Comment

This is for all the moms…past, present and future…written out of love and respect for all of you and whatever place you may be in the journey of motherhood.

imageMotherhood…Let’s be real for a moment here. I thought I was good at being a mom, until I actually had kids.  But in all reality, there are days I just suck at it. Or maybe it is just this particular moment in my personal journey of motherhood that has me questioning why I was born with boobs instead of a pecker?  Either way, I’ve screwed it all up…This being the best mom in the whole, wide world thing… I’ve irreversibly and simply just effed it all up.  The trophy for “Outstanding Mom of the Year” has evaded me once again and been hastily passed to a more deserving, perfect cookie baking mom. So kudos. Kudos to you, you big Mom winner.  I bet your kitchen is spotless and your garden blooming grandly.

No… I don’t really mean that because any Mom that has that going for her deserves a pat on the ass and a date night that doesn’t involve sex.  So, my little pity party aside, I’ve come to the realization that I should at least give myself a little credit for showing up to this mom thing and giving it a valiant effort on most days.  I tried.  And although a trophy simply for my participation in this monumental challenge of parenting would be nice, I don’t need it.  I don’t need that shiny award to remind me that I am a good mom.  Because my children are proof of that.

In the end,  despite me being me with all my lofty and grandiose expectations and parenting goals paired with my over-stuffed baggage of personal life screw-ups and hang-ups and botched attempts at princess-themed birthday parties and leaving the crust on the PB & J sandwich-I know I am still a good mom.  I know this roll did not just happen upon me.

Maybe my expectations of both parent and child were just a little too high at times? Maybe I hold on too tightly and don’t pull them close enough at all the important times.  Maybe I spanked ’em too hard and laughed when I shouldn’t have.  I left the dirty dishes in the sink for two days too long, let them eat off paper plates, and let them wear the same dirty shorts two days in a row. Maybe the phrase “pull your head out of your ass” was used one time too many.  I don’t know the answer, and I can question myself until I’m a size 2 and 105 lbs, but one thing I know for sure… I have expectations of my kids, and the words used and choices made were done out of a place of love.  That’s what being a mom really is.

It’s putting aside differences and hoping beyond all hope that maybe your children will see themselves through your eyes, eventually.  It’s knowing that just because too much Captain Crunch was consumed and not enough organic oatmeal, I am still a good mom.  It’s knowing that at the end of the day that I’ve probably provided just enough dysfunction to sustain-ably and gainfully employ two part-time therapists to “sort all that shit out”, but I am still a good mom.  It’s knowing that I did what I thought was best at the time, and accepting that no matter how hard I try, I will never get it all right.

So are you.  You may be wearing your pajamas at 3:00 P.M. picking your middle schooler up while your toddler is tugging at your pant leg or you may be at your 9 to 5 job worrying about your kiddo in daycare; You may be 65 wishing your son would call more often, but knowing he’s happy just where he is, or you may be like me, 39 with a headstrong 18 year old leaving you second-guessing every move you’ve made at this point in your roll as her mom.  Your house can be messy, your dishes not done, stories unread, crafts unfinished, and photos not in the album. Just be in the moment because those storms never last, mama.  They may get more intense, but the good news is… you cared, you supported, you fought, and you loved right down to your last damn breath as a mother.  Mother. Mom. Mama. Motherhood: Best challenge ever accepted, and I will cross that finish line with my head held high, a bottle of wine in one hand, and my Bible in the other.  That’s what this journey is all about, and what a ride it is.

Happy Mother’s Day & Happy Trails,

Heather

I Gotta Horse For Sale…

Heather Countryman1 Comment

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Those of you in the horse world have seen them…those “horse for sale” ads and groups on Craig’s List and Facebook.  Now, I don’t begrudge someone wanting to sell a horse, and possibly recoup a little of the money spent on raising or training one, but from what I’ve seen lately, I’d rather buy a goat. And, before ya go and get your undergarments in a giant wad, or your hinder in a binder, here’s an example of what appears to be an acceptable ad these days:

RANCH DISPERSAL SALE

‘Beautiful Brood Mare Prospect’ 10 years old sorta broke registered American Quarter Horse grade paint brood mare with one eyeball, accidentally bred to my neighbor’s jack donkey through the fence. Bloodlines are amazing triple bred Doc Bar on sire’s side but the dam mighta been out of the great bronc, Lunatic Fringe.  She appears to be built for speed, but only when I try to catch her out of the 40 acre pasture, but most of the time she’s real friendly and you can catch her pert near anywhere with a grain bucket.  She’s pretty good with three of her feet, but that left hind is kinda a bitch. She might take your head off.  She’s a little toed in, and spavin hocked, but her teeth are good.  She may make a real nice barrel horse if you give her a 200 foot by 400 foot arena to turn her in.  Only asking $10,000 or best offer, but to a good home only.

’16 Year Old Seasoned Head Horse’ He’s a little stiff in the morning, but hell, what guy worth a plug nickel ain’t?  Appears to loosen up after stumbling a few laps around the the arena or 2o minutes of ground work.  He needs a little extra padding on them whithers and every month or so needs some cortisone injections, but he likes the vet.  He hates dogs, but would probably make a good “husband horse”.  I do believe John Wayne learned to rope off him.  He ground ties, trips into the trailer, and sleeps standing up.  He’s safe for most folks, but occasionally spooks at his own farts. He’s a steal at only $15,000. Won’t last long.

‘4 Year Old Green Broke Roping/Hunter/Jumper Prospect’ Nice tall boy. About 16H, a little narrow chested, but will grow. Has one testicle left but seems real calm and quiet.  Started him hunting and packing last fall.  That’s how we found out he’s a jumper.  Had him at the pack out corrals and he jumped the 8ft fence to flirt with the neighbor’s mare.  Once we caught him and had him tracking on some elk, he spooked when we shot the rifle, and we got to spend the rest of our time hunting him.  Brought him home and put him to work ranching, because we’re real ranchy punching cows and stuff. Threw a loop off him and he seemed to settle in real well until I realized I pantyhosed the calf, pissed off the mama cow, and ran the rope up under his tail.  He bucked just a little and cow kicked at me as I went off, but he just needs a little more ground work I think.  He’s gotta go though, cause I got some hospital bills to pay.  Only asking $14,500.  That should about cover the doc’s bills.

After all that… who needs a horse? Y’all be careful horse swappin’ out there… As for me, I’ma gonna buy me a goat…

Happy Trails~

Heather

 

 

Forever, My Girl

Heather Countryman9 Comments

“I know a girl, she puts the color inside of my world…” ~John Mayer
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18 years… Seems like yesterday, my beautiful Kiley Dawn.  April 15th, 1998 at 7:25 A.M…they laid you in my arms.  I knew my life would never be the same, and as cliche as that may sound, it’s entirely true.  You were my first overwhelming, selfless love. You were my first in so many ways, and if I knew then what I know now, I’d hit pause for just a while on all those firsts…
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The first minutes of your life, the look in your daddy’s eyes when he first saw you, the first smile you smiled, the first words you spoke, the first steps, the first time you rode your horse, the first time we took you fishing, the first time you bugled elk with Dad, your first days of every year of school, and now the first day of the rest of your adult life…
fb_img_1460562680316.jpgSo, here we are, and I just want to make the moment last just a little longer.  And as much as I want you to spread your beautiful wings and fly, and am excited about all the amazing things you’ll do in this life, I want just as badly to hold on to the last little bit of your time at home with us before you strike out on life’s grand adventures.  I wonder if I’ve given you all the love you needed to succeed, the proper guidance and direction?  Do you know how much you are admired and loved, and just how proud of you I am?  Because I feel I could never tell or show you enough.  Moms are just that way… So, before you go, I give you these words, so you may always know just how much you’re loved and supported, and know that I trust the decisions and choices you make, even if they’re not ones I would choose for you.

Remember that you have what it takes to climb that mountain, and don’t take the easy way. That grit in your gut is pure strength and passion.  The challenge builds character, makes your lungs burn, and reminds you how alive you are.  When you doubt yourself, trust in God. He wants even more amazing things for you than you or I can even fathom. Don’t sell that ride short, ever, because there are no short-cuts to anywhere worth going.

Integrity is everything…Doing the right thing when nobody is looking is your soul proof. I know this is not something you will ever struggle with.  You have strong and true convictions in right and wrong… You always have.  Don’t ever ask of someone what you are not willing to do yourself.  Be the example and the change you want this life to see.fb_img_1460562258527.jpg

Please don’t forget to nurture that beautiful, little girl still inside you. Never ignore her.  You will need her in the years to come, and the passions you lived for as a child, will carry over into adulthood.  Sing….Girl, please sing and share that amazing talent with others.  You’re meant to be heard. Learn to dance, ride wild horses, pick wildflowers, play in the rain, and forget the boys once in a while…always do these things because they will help keep you young.  It’s not ever selfish to get back to the roots of just being you before the world told you who you should be. Don’t lose the smile it brings to your face and soul because yours is simply too amazing not to share with the world beautiful daughter.

Be forgiving and humble…and sort out what is worth holding on to emotionally, and just let go of the rest.  Anger and discontent become extra weight you will be better off without in the long run, and remember you never truly lose in apologizing.  There is always something to learn from every situation or conflict.  There are always opportunities for emotional growth, so learn from them.  You’ve taught me so much about myself over the years just by simply being your mom.  You’re a reflection of me and my actions, and more often than not, I got it all wrong. But from that, I see wisdom and strength in your young eyes, and more importantly, in your heart.

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Travel, explore, and be adventurous.  Try something new any chance you get.  You will need these memories to take out and reflect on now and then. We all need “remember whens”.  But, don’t forget the door to home is always open, and my shoulder is here for you to lean or cry on.  When you have troubles, I promise to just listen and not talk.  When you have good news to share, I will rejoice and celebrate with you.  When you just need a place to be…home is here for you with the door unlocked, clean sheets on the bed, and ice cream in the freezer.

Family really is everything, and so is learning to count on yourself.  Family is your anchor, and a complete pain in your ass, but they have your best interest at heart, and are there when the shit hits the fan.  Listen to your grandmas’ advice, hug your grandpas’ necks, make your brother one of your best friends, be an example for your younger cousins, and know your aunts and uncles are a second set of parents with their own words of wisdom and adventurous advice to share.  Visit them as often as time allows, and honor them because they love you like you were their own.

20160305_151924-02.jpegIf your life and circumstances allow, always own a horse or a dog. And if you can’t have one out your back door, I promise to always have one for you.  You already know all the reasons why…but mostly because it reminds you how to love something bigger than yourself, gives you purpose, and a reason to get outdoors.  And they always provide love in return.  They teach you about yourself, your strengths and weakness, and where your character needs improvement.  Besides children of your own {someday}, they will be your best teachers.

Laugh…laugh at the silly and the stupid and the simple things.  Just laugh. It’s infectious and makes others smile.  Give people a reason to laugh, and do it often.  Laughter through tears heals broken hearts…And cry. Never apologize for tears.  They’re real and exist because of a feeling, and sometimes for no damn reason at all.  That’s just being a woman.

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In the end, be grateful… Grateful for hurt, pain, and triumphs no matter the size.  There is always something to be grateful for in this beautiful life, Kiley.  The more you know yourself, the more there is to rejoice in.  Remember to take the time to get to know the new and changing you, now.  The big choices and decisions don’t have to be made at this moment.  Don’t let this world jade you, chew you up and spit you out.  Stay grateful, stay true….Stay just you.  Boys will wait if they’re meant to be. College can wait. Marriage can wait. Babies can wait.  But life can’t wait.  Some days you will make great strides, and others will feel like two steps forward and one step back; it will feel like you’re treading water.  Go to church now and then… We all need reminders, and wait on God in those moments…Just wait.  He’s busy clearing a path in your heart to prepare you for what lies ahead. Reflect, listen, learn, but always love.

Never forget you will always be your daddy’s little girl, your mama’s best friend and riding partner, and your little brother’s advocate and confidant.  I am so damn proud of you.  Spread those new-found wings, spread them as far and wide as you can, and know that I love you…Yes, to the moon and back. And always…

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Summer Love, True Love

Heather Countryman3 Comments

Pearl Basin 3It really was love at first sight;  the ranch, the barnyard bustle, the summer morning air filled with the scent of horses and leather and timothy grass, the mountains and wilderness and the trails that wound intimately through, and my family working side by side.  I knew from day one, the hold this had on me, the grip on my heart and soul.  I knew this was it, that I wouldn’t need anything else in my life. Just this. And although I couldn’t see it then, I see it now.  This way of life assimilated into a relationship built on real, true love, summer love.

And as with all relationships in its freshness and grandeur,  I found myself giving it my very best, giving my all, losing myself in the ebb and flow of all the family outfitting and dude ranch business and the nature of what it had to offer.  I let it form and mold and shape me at its whim.  I took when it gave, it gave everything when it could, and I waited patiently when it couldn’t, and rested on the laurels of someday and next summer. Because I knew with each breath of a new summer season, it would once again envelop me in its arms. It needed me, and I needed summer even more.  I loved it with every fiber of my being.  I always felt that without it, I wasn’t me, that I wasn’t honoring what my family had worked so hard to build, and I wasn’t fulfilling the contract made to my heart without it.  But, mostly it was an incessant need and desire that demanded to be satiated.  I needed the mountains, the horses, the trails and the dust, the meadows, the influx of new people, and the daily touchback to my family and heritage; I needed it all.

This love took me places I never knew were possible or even existed. It pushed me, helped me see untapped potential within, and broke down walls I didn’t even know needed breaking. It opened my eyes to what this life could be, what it should be. It led me to new friendships, mountain peaks and vistas I would have never otherwise seen, the clearest streams filled with the most colorful stones, the intimate trust and love of a good horse, and it led me to my next love, my husband and children.

And as with all  good things, true love changes, and you start to wonder if you’re both committed to forever. Your needs start to change and so does its. I started to lose my grip on what seemed perfect and what I felt would truly last forever.  I started to see flaws in this relationship, and my ability to communicate my needs and desires broke down.  And the ease and comfort of my life morphed into the next phase of true love, the change.  And I felt myself changing with it.  I felt like I was becoming two different people.  There was the side of me, the drifter side, that wanted to continue to wander and wonder and love this life as it was.  But the other side of me I felt emerging desired consistency and steadfastness that this love could not offer me.  And they clashed, like a gentle war in my heart.  And it was a wash, no clear winner, no giant victor; only small wins here and there in a fraction of time that soothed  because one side of me conceded the game being played between head and heart to the other.  But only until they crossed paths again…the epitome of should I stay or should I go?

The latter of the two won. The need to find stability in something other than my love for this way of life surpassed the need to drift freely.  Because it no longer was free; it came at a price. It forced choices to be made and growth to happen.  The next phase of life needed to happen because I could no longer ride the tide of summer love.  I had others counting on me, and I needed to count on myself.  And I let go…

I didn’t give up.  I didn’t win or lose.  This love became best tucked away with words left unsaid because it was better that way.  Letting go wasn’t leaving the love, but rather leaving feelings left unexplored and thoughts left incomplete.  It wasn’t about blocking memories made, good or bad.  Letting go became an acceptance of what this love really was, realizing my own need for independence, and finding peace with what it remains to be.  It was a giant and gentle step into growth and knowing that my heart and head needed a clearer, gentler path. No bitterness was felt and no blame needed placed, because there was really no fault. Just the rawness that change evokes.

So, there my true, first love lies, back in the heart of the mountains, in the family left behind, the friends made, the horses and trails ridden. We both gave it everything we had at the time, and when the morning sun arose, we both knew it was time. It embeds itself there, tucked away in the rough edges of my heart, occupying vast space, a burning flame, awaiting for our paths to cross again. I take those memories out and  look at them, revisit what was, and sometimes wonder what if?  But more than anything, I honor this great love, a no truer love, because it made me who I am today and for that, I am forever in love and forever grateful…

Happy Trails~

Heather

She Rides

Heather Countryman3 Comments

This is an ode to the most beautiful woman I know.  No finer lady will this world have the pleasure of knowing, and at 66, may she know that’s she’s the most beautiful version of herself now more than ever.  May this serve as a reminder that even though she’s a mother, a wife, and a grandmother, that she is still all woman, and most importantly, uniquely amazing with what she offers up to this world with the biggest and kindest of hearts…. Happiest of birthdays, Mama…

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I always picture her here on the back of spry black & white paint horse riding down a mountain trail. Her black hair and dark eyes glitter, and you know she’s at home here, the most in love here, and the most alive here.  She sits tall and true.  She rides.

 But in all actuality, this is how she handles life and all the crazy it throws at her.  She’s seen mountains of heartbreak, admitted guilt, nursed sick children, loved her family and husband fiercely, she’s fallen and risen, and prayed her way through it all. Sure, she’s made mistakes and blamed herself; nobody is more aware of them than her.  But, through it all, she rides, head held high, straighter and truer with every turn of the trail. She rides.

She’s tough. I’ve seen her eat dirt coming off a rank colt, and pull herself up and throw a leg over him one more time, just to prove she’s boss.  She has a way with horses; she sees untapped potential, and she loves the challenge of the ornery ones. And she rides them. She hangs and rattles with the best of ’em because she rides.

Lord, she’s strong; strong- willed and strong-minded, but mostly, strong-hearted.  The only fear I’ve ever seen in her is the possibility of losing a loved one.  And she’s been there. She’s lost love and she cries.  And she loves again, stronger. She extends her open arms and heart to those around her, those in need of it most, stranger or friend.  She rides through this life with grace and love. She rides.

She paints beautiful pictures, she builds a home full of laughter, love, kindness and respect.  She’s music, Sunday morning hymnals, and a little kick-ass country because it’s Monday.  She’s fast horses, Sunday morning church, and a lover and a fighter.  She’s woman, all beautiful woman, refined and lady-like and tough as nails. She’s all of these because she rides.

I’m lucky enough to call her Mama.  There’s nobody I look up to more in this life, and I am forever grateful for all she’s ever been to me. Strength when I needed, a boot in the ass when I deserved it, and unconditional love always. Thank you for all the firsts in this life, like teaching my to drive a stick and pull a horse trailer, how to cook, and how to get tough when the tough get going.  Thank you for your love and support through the years when I doubted my own skills and strengths.  But I’m most thankful for your teaching me to ride. Straight, strong and true, she rides…

Love you, Mama. Happy Birthday!

Tough Lil’ Miss

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For my beautiful little niece on her 1st birthday!

Tough Lil’ Mis

She’s got curls a soft red & yellow

And big, smilin’ eyes bright & blue,

She’s a beauty like her mama

But has her daddy’s twinklin’ eye for trouble too.

 

You see, Little Miss, you’re made of pretty tough stuff.

You’re rooted by the best kind of folks in this life.

Those made of big ‘ol Montana mountains & streams

And the rich, fertile land of Florida cattle ranchin’ life.

 

Right now it’s spotted stick ponies, pink cowboy hats and boots

Stuffed puppies and baby dolls and farm animals strewn all about,

But as time flies, that will change to fancy loops and fast horses,

A Dodge truck, horse trailer, and a Boxer pup to boot!

 

Daisey Rae, there’s no doubt, no straighter loop will be thrown,

Or a better hand will be made with horse or cow around

When you hit the ground a’runnin’

Ain’t nothin’ much will keep you down.

 

You’ve got the makins’ of a real cowgirl

Ya see, you really can’t help but be

When your mama’s one of the best

And your daddy’s one of the toughest cowboys to beat.

 

This ol’ life may never be easy, Miss Daisey

Your gonna have to jerk your cinch up tight.

But when the goin’ ain’t easy, the tough get goin’

So pull that hat down tight & just enjoy the ride.

 

Happiest of birthdays to you!

 

Love~

Auntie Heather

I Thought of You Today…

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I thought of you today while the wind teased the loose tendrils of hair from under my hat. The familiar feel and memories of a spring with you came flooding back. The horse hair curried, the mane and tail trimmed and shaped, the tack cleaned and oiled just right. My horse rolled air through his nose, and snorted with anticipation. He knew the first ride of spring was upon him. Old Roany gave me the look, the one you used to tell me to watch for. The look that allows a fraction of insight into their heart and soul, the one chance you get at an advantage on a spry, spring-backed horse. I saw so much life there. He told me not to worry or be afraid. And he told me he would test me, but he also told me to trust. He read my hesitation. You see, he’s sort of like you were. Standoffish. Confident. Proud. Full of life. I saw your reflection in his eyes and your words echoed in my ear, softly. I saddled him up, lead him away from the hitch rail, the wind picking up force.  My bosal hackamore, the one you gave me, hung from the horn, and I always see your hands, weathered and rough, on the mecate. I bridled him, patted him, and gave him one last look as I grabbed a hunk of mane, and swung a leg over ‘ol red roany. Hump in his back, wind in his tail, and the look in his eye, he strode out just like he always does every time, quick and sure-footed and in charge. You would’ve liked Red, Popi. He would have been just your style. The smile on my face said it all.  Anyway, I thought of you today…

Leaving a Legacy

Heather Countryman1 Comment

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Some moments simply leave your mouth absent of words, your eyes filled with warm tears, and your heart so full of love and pride, and when those moments come, you make note of every detail in that capsule of time.  My grandfather, Clarence Barron “C.B.” Rich was recently inducted into the Montana Cowboy Hall of Fame this month in Great Falls.  I have written about my grandpa in the past and shared how he impacted my insignificant, little life, but to witness what it means to really leave a legacy behind for another generation to nurture and care for as their own is priceless.

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He was one of thirty-five inductees, living and legacy, to be honored at this year’s ceremonies.  How a committee narrows down a group of thirty-five cowboys from all of those spread out over the years in Montana is baffling, because as I sat there and listened to the names being read and the story behind each cowboy or cowgirl, I thought how extremely lucky I was to be in the company of these fine inductees and those that came to honor them.

The stories shared were truly etched from the pages of Montana and western history; stories from train robbery attempts and assisting outlaws to carving out an honorable life from the harsh and formidable landscapes we now take for granted.  Underneath every Stetson hat in that room, was a true and honorable cowboy or cowgirl.  And somehow, I was lucky enough to be connected to this amazing moment in time.

I looked around the solarium full of people, close to probably five hundred, and with each name read from the inductee list, there was a family member or friend there to receive the award.  There was a deep pride each one felt hearing their inductee being named, the standing ovations and the well-deserved applause for those known and not known, for their accomplishments and attributions to the community we call “cowboy”.

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There were bronc stompers, ropers, farmers & ranchers, cattlemen & women, teamsters, outfitters, outlaws, horse trainers, artists, authors & poets, rodeo competitors, and  livestock entrepreneurs, all being honored. They were, and are all “cowboy”,  and all darn sure legendary.  Their stories were significant, entertaining, and different, but the commonality was all of these people were and are, tough as a new bride’s biscuits.  They tended livestock in the worst of weather, they cut trails, built barns, rode rough horses and even rougher country, all in the name of providing for a family, a community, and a country.  Their purpose was strong, bold, and etched out of crusted sweat on their brows, and callouses on their weathered hands.  Not a one of them missed the mark on work ethic and values.  They all knew what it meant to be a part of something bigger than themselves.  They loved their families and communities, and fought for their country and our freedom.  They had grit, true grit, in their guts and steel in their veins.

I observed the younger generation looking on in the room, and wondered if any felt like I did?  Will generations yet to come understand what it took for their ancestors and loved ones to build their legacies, their homesteads, ranches, and hard-earned dreams? Better yet, will they even care?  Will they know to look up from their mobile devices and televisions, and work at a back-breaking speed to beat a storm?  Does our current culture and warped society give a damn about such things anymore?  Do they care about pulling calves in a March snowstorm? Will they know the exhilarating feeling of throwing a leg over a fresh colt, or to climb a mountain pass and blaze a new trail over rugged miles of rocks and trees?  Will they know the art of carving life out of a Charlie Russell landscape? Will they appreciate the hue of the prairie sunrises and sunsets as they glance of the coulees and breaks?  Will they be inspired to do more and be more?

I hope so.  These people leave an amazing legacy to carry and pass on down the line.  They take so much knowledge and history with them when they go, and they live big boots to fill.  I am honored to be a part of such a life, and I hope that I am able to do more than ride along on the coattails of my grandpa’s legacy.  Because it’s about time I made my own…

Happy Trails~