The Way-back Machine

I don't know what made me think of this today, but for some reason I recalled an adventure from my childhood.

In the county I grew up in, every town had their little "Days" celebration. They would have a parade & games & town get-togethers, etc. They had 'Colony Days'  &  'Pioneer Days' & "Days of the Dawns" among others; and we rode our ponies in every one.

"Days of the Dawns' was by far the most red-necky one of them all. One of the main stays of their parade was a group  of mountain men which consisted of a half dozen, over weight, half drunk men on horseback wearing poorly tanned hides (which stunk) & carrying rifles loaded with blanks (I hope). They would traverse the parade route whooping & hollering & firing their guns in the air. It was always a real joy to be placed close to them in the parade line-up. Not.

For these & other various reasons I really did not enjoy this parade. By the time I was 11 or 12, I said "No way. I don't want to be in that one anymore." Well, they all worked on me ('they' being my family) & convinced me to go "Just one more year." Famous last words.

We made it thru the parade alright. I was riding our pony Pudgy, who was in his early 20's by then. My sister had a relatively new horse "Bucko". Bucko was gorgeous, a big, flashy, buckskin appy-- but not so bright.

The parade was over, we were loading up to go home when Bucko freaked over something unknown (or just not remembered) & broke away to gallop up & down the main street & back & forth over the railroad tracks with multitudes of people in his pursuit. After several minutes of this, just to add to the excitement (lest anyone was bored) here comes a train. Now the fool horse is running in front of a train.

While all of this is going on, my mother is back at the truck with Pudgy, who is loaded in the trailer which just so happens to be parked right next to the train tracks. Being a country pony, Pudgy has no idea what is coming up the tracks to eat him but he's not waiting around to find out. He's decided to exit that trailer by means of the tiny round window in the manger. And he means business too. As everyone else is off chasing Bucko the wonder horse, my mom is trying to deal with the pony by herself. Thankfully, the sheriff came along & was able to get Pudgy out of the trailer (not thru the window) & calmed down until the train had passed. Somebody (I can't remember who, I mean it's been 30 yrs) finally caught Bucko & now we are REALLY ready to go home. But wait!

After their recent adventures NEITHER animal is willing to get in that trailer no matter what we do to entice them. So, after many, many, many futile trys & my father wishing for a gun with REAL bullets, we decide to ride home. 15 miles. After a full day of getting ready for the parade, being in the parade, chasing Bucko blah, blah, blah, blah, blah blah, that's just what we want to do. Right.

So we head home. After an hour or so my dad brings the trailer to check on us & see if the horses are willing to load. Pudgy, not being stupid, loaded readily at this point. He knew a good thing when he saw it. Bucko, not so much. My sister had to ride him the whole way home. Needless to say, that was the LAST 'Days of the Dawns' parade we were in. And Bucko? If memory serves, my sister sold him not long after. Go figure.

I hope you enjoyed this trip in the Way-Back Machine & this short glimpse into my girlhood. For those of you who know me--it explains so much doesn't it?

Blessings.