Tails Of A Trail Guide, AKA The Cowboy On Ginger

I think my first story about out at the ranch will be about our pony rides.

It was a Sunday last winter around February. A caucasian woman around 35 years old brought her Chinese daughter in for a birthday pony ride, she had just turned four years old.
Well first you have to understand that I do not like doing the pony rides. It involves a 15 minute walk around the pond and if I have been on the ground all day my feet hurt, If I am working with Tina and I do most of the time, she wants me in the yard because I get things done and she knows that I can take care of customers if need be.

Our birthday girl all decked out in a cowgirl dress, boots and hat had never been on a horse in her life and I am thinking, oh man here we go again, kid kicking and screaming in terror and all hell going to break out.
So I get Snip out because she is us to kids freaking out.
Well, me and mom got the shock of the day. As I lifted her to the saddle she swung her weight and came down perfect in the saddle, Straight back, heels aligned grabbed the reins English style gave a kick and said giddy-up.
I looked at mom and she had a complete look of shock on her face. Not sure what she thought But for me, if there is any thing like reincarnation I think I got a first hand look.

Poor mom, she will be hearing about horses the rest of her life.
Wonder when she will break down and buy one?

Cowboy

Haha I'll hedge the mom'll be holdin a grudge against you for a while

I think you have that right, but what can I say, Please don't shoot the messenger.

Another tail of the trail.

My AKA the cowboy on ginger comes from a coworker by the name of Jose. There is no translation for my name in Spanish, it is a very Germanic name and as best as he try's he just can not remember it. When I am bringing the last ride in he will call on the radio, cowboy on ginger where are you. Most of the time my response is past Olema bridge half way to the pond. That's to see if I am on time and if he can start feeding.
Now there was a time that I would have clocked you for calling me cowboy, but in my older age I kind of find it funny and maybe close to home. Close because I found out that my grandfathers grandmother was born in Texas in 1818. I should not be surprised because granddad was born in Eagle pass, Maverick County in 1872.
Now please y'all don't don't hold it ageist me for being born in California, the old man was an outlaw by the name of Rusty Bill on the run all along the border to California. Don't try to find the name he was not famous or maybe it should be infamous. I guess that depends on what side of the tracks you come from.
I don't have a photo of me on Ginger but this lady is one of my loves. She is a Morgan and the best horse I have ever worked with.
The Cowboy

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