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October 11, 2009

I’ve meant to post sooner, but the last place we were at had an internet connection that was about as fast as one of those old 56K dial-up modems.  In fact, I tried posting twice – each time about a page long – but the connection would get cut and I’d lose everything.  Because of that, this post will be much more abbreviated.

The last place we stayed (besides a night in El Paso) was Rancho de la Osa in El Sasabe, Arizona.  We’ve been quite a few places in the past three weeks, but I’ll go on record and say this place was easily the most enjoyable.

We got in Monday afternoon not really knowing what to expect.  I was preoccupied with the fact that myBrett Favre led Vikings hosted the Packers later that night and, as my luck would have it, there wasn’t a TV for an hour in any direction.  The following night the Twins played the Tigers in a one game playoff and won in extra innings.  No dice there either.  There really is no god.

Once I got over the fact that I was missing two of the biggest games to happen to Minnesota sports in recent memory, I was able to take in everything the ranch had to offer.  First and foremost, I learned I’m not cut out to be a cowboy.  I didn’t do badly with the horseback riding.  In fact I was pretty good.  It was the little things that set me apart from Larry, our own personal Marlboro man and wrangler.  I don’t dip and can’t grow enough facial hair to where I don’t look like a homeless person.  And I look like a goon in a cowboy hat.  By the second day I quit fighting it and went back to my sandals and Elon hat.

The ranch was absolutely amazing though.  We’d wake up at 8 and get served a full breakfast.  After that we’d get on our horses and go riding for the next few hours.  You’ve seen all the photos and Mike has pretty much covered most of it, including the suicide mission we went on to find a ghost town in the middle of nowhere.

This was another reason I realized I could never be a cowboy.  Ady – a ranch hand – was driving her Toyota Tundra up the side of a mountain with Mike, Larry, and myself as passengers.  When I say “the side of a mountain”, I mean just that.  This wasn’t a road.  It was a runoff during rain showers.  There were times when it was forty five degrees up, was no wider than the truck itself, and was paved with rocks the size of soccer balls.  Nothing was stopping the truck from losing traction and careening down the hill.  If I would’ve known this was going to be our activity for the afternoon, I would’ve worn a diaper.  While I was white-knuckled in the back seat and trying not to mess myself, Ady casually says, “If we do end up losing control and going over the side, just let your body go limp.  If you’re tense you’re more likely to break a bone.”  Thanks for the advice, Ady.  I ignored her and was concocting a plan to use Larry the Wrangler as a shield and make it look incidental.

Somehow we made it down alive.  The day after next, we left and took off for the Wigwam.  Right now I’m sitting in bed waiting for the Minnesota vs. Purdue game to kickoff.  They have TVs at this place.

EDIT: Just looking at Mike’s pictures below.  My horse was a serious pain in the ass.  There’s a reason it looks like my legs are flailing around in every picture.  To get that damn thing to do anything you wanted, you practically had to wring it’s neck with the reigns.  It’d be better off being sent away to a factory and getting recycled as the glue for a kindergarten art project.

2 Comments leave one →
  1. Marty Malagon permalink
    October 11, 2009 12:21 pm

    The pictures were great, rarely did the word “Brokeback” come to mind, ok, not that often, well maybe a few times, but not all the time, anyway.

  2. Drew permalink*
    October 12, 2009 1:33 am

    Yeah, everybody’s a comedian…

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