Old Range Rider
Category: Writing and Poetry
..> For the last 6 months I have ridden in the dust of 10,000 head of cattle.
I couldn't even guess the days I could finally get a reprive from this worn broken down saddle.
So many rivers that this band of saddletramps has forded.
Hundreds of galloons of thick coffee and a thousand plates of biscuits, beans, hardtack these cowboys have horded.
God only know to how many days that were so hot that the only thing that moved in the air was the thick heavy dust,
It blanketed everything that the lungs of animals and man alike was ready to bust.
We moved ten to 15 miles a day at our very best,
Then at night we might get 5 hours of needed rest.
Endless days of heat and chasing a lost calf or scattered doggie,
No wonder mirages tended to make ones mind a bit foggy.
Nights so clear that a million stars could be seen,
Many sunrises so beautiful that on hated to move because the air was so clean.
Summer rains were a blessing to our mighty group,
Unless it stormed and made the dirt like soup.
Those times were impossible to even think of the word "Dry",
At times it bacame so bad it looked like the cows gave up and begin to cry.
At last the end is close for this cow hand
Only another week of crossing the open range land,
One last ride for me to bear
Before they retire me to the Ol' rocking chair,
For this business is for the young to grow up quick
And not for a 75 year old country hick
My last thing I would say about riding the west
For me riding the range of yesteryear was the best.