When I was fifteen years of age,
I rode a horse on a cattle drive.
Moving the cattle, down the country
roads, through Sagebrush and other plants.
After one day of riding, my rear end was
sore, and we kept on "driving the cattle,
toward our goal, which was a ranch,
east of Ellensburg.
My legs were sore after being in the
saddle. I didn't know what I was doing
but quarter horse knew every move the
cattle would make, cut them, off so
we could continue our drive.
Great memories of that time.