Hang on, Wayne Dyer; we're goin' to Winnemucca!

1/30:

The lost purse story is circulating through Elko. O’Carrolls breakfast group in Lamoille heard it from Paula who got it from John. Susan passed it to a bridge group in town, and from there it hit the Western Folklife Center.

Wisconsin Sue is the lady holding the bag in this tale, and she’s feeling guilt,
but at the same time, she's a star all over Elko.

We met these ladies in 2004 when they came touring from Wisconsin.
Ringleader Val and teacher friends corralled Cowboy John. "We want a tour."
Val retired from teaching. Spent her time keeping her friends traveling.

The story of these Wisconsin ladies is a story of rare friendship.

They came to the Cowboy Poetry Gathering in Elko as a tribute to their
dear friend Val...



Janice
for Cowboy John

PS. Every time I saw them during the Gathering it was a tribute to the
special bond they carried for each other and their absent friend Val.

"Blood sister to these fields..."

1/25:

Janice here for Cowboy John:

One of the fun parts of the Gathering each year is browsing new books. One I’m reading now, Sharing Fencelines is a journal of ranch life in the remote Nevada desert.

Carolyn Dufurrena, Linda Hussa, and Sophie Sheppard, ranch in Nevada-California’s shared corner. Desert, many years dry, some years in flood, always open and lonely. I’ve just finished Dufurrena’s portion.

These women live in a largely male world, yet their lives, and the lives of their men folk, too, are infused with intimacy of the earth that comes from years working the ground.

The price is hours on horseback, following cattle, in all weather. Dufurrena’s husband’s directions:

“Follow too close and she’ll turn around and fight you…If you’re riding flank, stay way away off to the side once they’re lined out…See where you’re going; figure out how to get there…Look. Think. Wait…”

Driving cattle demands an intimate knowing of their ways, a closeness garnered through years of exposure.

I felt Dufurrena’s embarrassment at being at the bottom of the learning curve, not having instinct infused when she was young, raised to horseback and empty horizons. She’s a “city” girl.

As much as I love being close to the earth I’m afraid I don’t have this kind of intimacy. I’d be embarrassed seeing obvious evidence of my "green-hornedness."

I envy this intimate knowing of the land. Riding its canyons and dusty valleys and turning the brown earth for seed, Hussa can say she’s a “Blood sister to these fields.”

You’d better read the book. It’s a sensitive inside-look at life close to the land. I’m still trying to put my finger on why the Cowboy Poetry Gathering exerts such a pull on the psyche of modern folks.



There’s the start of an answer in this book, I think.

Janice

PS: We can show you open country like the country Dufurrena, Hussa, and Sheppard make their home.
Open vistas you can't see the end of.
Check out the web site: cowboyjohntours.com

I'm not excited about watching snow melt in the parking lot!

1/23:
I remember the first time I heard of the Cowboy Poetry Gathering. We were living in Reno, Nevada, and John (“insurance man John” then) drove to Elko periodically to see clients.

One trip he came home buzzing about this brand new festival in Elko—a group of cowboys reciting poetry and singing cowboy ballads (different from Nashville country music).

My comment: “Wow! And you watched snow melt in the parking lot, too?”

I was not excited about cowhands reciting sing-songy rhymes.

John, however, was thrilled. He gets excited.

The lifestyle. Memories of the remote cattle ranch where he was raised. Working as a boy with horses, riding all day on the isolated desert looking for cattle. The Cowboy Poetry Gathering (a Gathering, not a contest. We’ll talk about that later) celebrated more than anything a lifestyle.

Since that first visit twenty years ago the Gathering today includes fantastic western artists, musicians, weavers of words, most of them philosophers.

People come. Folks from Japan, Europe, and American cities are fascinated with this lifestyle. And they can see it still here in northeastern Nevada.

We’re both excited about this year with the South Americans. John’s taking them on ranch tours this weekend.

The same tours YOU can take. I’ll keep you updated.

There’s a lot we learn from these guests who come here to share a lifestyle close to the land. Let me back up for a second and explain…

Well, on second thought, it might be better to let my thoughts continue in the next article.

So tune in tomorrow when I talk more about it.

Truth is, I need to gather my thoughts about the real meaning of this Gathering.

So check back here tomorrow.

Ok?

“Life is not a problem to be solved, but a mystery to be lived,” Thomas Merton

Janice


PS-John’s taking the Argentinians and Brazilians Friday to ranches, Lamoille canyon, and other great places. One year we finished the tour in a ranch house with Mongolian music, and brownies! Another year a French cameraman visibly blanched when told what he was eating! (Not brownies!)

I'm back after two months buried in remodeling mess. I wrote this in November
when leaves were turning gold. It's still good even though the mountain is
white, not gold now.

November 3, 2005:
I walked this morning at 7:30 with dog buddy Jazz.

29 degrees under a gray sky. The mountains were dusted white about a week ago.
For a few days the contrast was beautiful with gold and green on the lower reaches and white on top. Today gold is gone. It's gray/black granite.

Two weeks ago John and I hiked up the canyon behind Lamoille Camp and brought quaking aspen leaves back for the house. Fluorescent gold and yellow blindingly bright against dark green mahogany. We’ll go up again this weekend but into
another world as black curled leaves cover the ground in wet muskiness.
Trees stand naked against the hazy sky, black branches bare. The mountain closes down for a rest, although that will soon be interrupted by roaring snow mobile engines!

Filigree edges of the creek encroach to imprison the creek in ice.

In some ways it's my favorite time in the mountain, dormant, waiting for
the jump-start of spring.

We’re going Saturday. You come too…

We show folks outstanding country, beautiful in any season!




Janice

PS See you here again in a couple days when I'll talk about the
Cowboy Poetry Gathering!
It's a Gathering, not a contest
Why is it a Gathering, not a Contest? We'll talk
about that next.