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| Blogs > RangeBull70 > Musings from the Open Range |
My Latest Composition - Go West Woman, Go West
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My Latest Composition - Go West Woman, Go West I put together a piece of entertainment. This will be issued as a serial and consist of seven eight parts. Hopefully, the blog gremlins will not eat many words and make it unintelligible. I think I got all the bugs out - Why does this thing hate quotation marks and proper punctuation so much ?.? The remainder of the story is posted in the comments to try and preserve the formatting. Be sure to stop back for Part 2 I hope you enjoy it. This piece is title "Go West Woman, Go West" "Go West Woman, Go West" is loosely paraphrased from the famous statement made by Horace Greely - "Go West Man! Go West" in an Editorial in the New York Tribune in the 1865. Prologue They had bandied the idea of her coming West back and forth dozens of times always dancing around the sexual tension and unknown expectations roiling beneath the surface of their online relationship. Their lives were a picture of contrasts ⦠She - a sexually liberated, suburban, eastern seaboard, cosmopolitan, career woman He - a rural, town, blue jeans and cowboy boot wearing, wide-open western skies, cattleman, who makes a living on the back of a while living off the land ⦠with lives whose paths seemingly would never cross. That was until he dared her to travel West to ride along during the fall gathering and embrace the cowgirl he knew was hidden inside. On a lark she accepted, without a clue as to why, how, and what lay ahead of her in this fantasy disguised as an adventure. She could always change her mind she told herself as the day approached. Yet whatever reason, hidden desire, a year in COVID lock-down, some mysterious unmet need, insatiable curiosity; she found herself on the way the airport wing her way West. One thing she did know was this was a<b> trip </font></b>about being out of her element, being fearless, and experiencing things that she never ... ever imagined would be a part of her life. From the Gold Country of Northern California's Sierra Nevada Mountains, Range Bull |
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This piece is title "Go West Woman, Go West" "Go West Woman, Go West" is loosely paraphrased from the famous statement made by Horace Greely - "Go West Young Man! Go West" in an Editorial in the New York Tribune in the 1865. Prologue They had bandied the idea of her coming West back and forth dozens of times always dancing around the sexual tension and unknown expectations roiling beneath the surface of their online relationship. Their lives were a picture of contrasts … She - a sexually liberated, suburban, eastern seaboard, cosmopolitan, career woman He - a rural, small town, blue jeans and cowboy boot wearing, wide-open western skies, cattleman, who makes a living on the back of a horse while living off the land … with lives whose paths seemingly would never cross. That was until he dared her to travel West to ride along during the fall gathering and embrace the cowgirl he knew was hidden inside. On a lark she accepted, without a clue as to why, how, and what lay ahead of her in this fantasy disguised as an adventure. She could always change her mind she told herself as the day approached. Yet for whatever reason, hidden desire, a year in COVID lock-down, some mysterious unmet need, or insatiable curiosity; she found herself on the way to the airport to wing her way West. One thing she did know was this was a trip about being out of her element, being fearless, and experiencing things that she never ... ever imagined would be a part of her life. Sunday - Day One She stepped out of the airport into the hot, dry, desert air of Reno, Nevada and scanned the area looking for her ride. He had told her that she could not miss him and that she would know who he was simply by the vehicle he would be picking her up with. It was then that she noticed a large pick-up truck and requisite livestock trailer rolling towards her in the passenger loading zone. The truck was loaded with camp equipment, bales of hay, and little pack of swift looking dogs riding atop the gear in the back. She could almost feel the rhythmic purr of the diesel engine as the truck pulled up to the curb beside her. There she was standing on the curb waiting for him to arrive. He could not believe that it was really her. Even with the surgical mask on her face, he could tell she was beautiful - with big expressive eyes framed by long, dark, auburn hair that he could already imagine running his hands through. He pulled to a stop, exited the vehicle, and walked around the truck towards her. As he approached, he tipped his hat and placed her luggage in the back seat of the truck. They exchanged nervous helloes as he opened the passenger door for her and gently helped her climb into the cab of the truck. When their hands touched, he swore he could feel a spark; but then again, the high desert’s hot, dry air was famous for its’ static electricity. The entire affair lasted less than two minutes and they were pulling away from the airport. She eventually relaxed enough to remove her mask, something he had not been required to do because he lived in an area where cows outnumbered people; confirming everything he had imagined about her - in person, she looked like a petite version of the actress Dana Delaney with similar long, auburn hair, twinkling hazel eyes, and gorgeous little dimples that appeared when she smiled. Anxiety filled the cab of the truck as they made small talk while he negotiated traffic to exit the airport and the metropolitan area surrounding it - to point the vehicle West, towards California and the Northern Sierra Nevada Mountains, and the adventure that lay in store for them both … ... They made camp in the same high mountain meadow he had been to countless times before since he was old enough to remember. He had spent the bulk of his youthful summers at this cow camp, riding through the mountains and alpine meadows that surrounded them. This was an area once referred to as ‘Open Range,’ where his family had grazed their cattle on the lush summer pastures for the better part of a hundred years. The mantle had now been passed to him in an era that seemed to disdain his individualist, sometimes contrarian lifestyle as he made his living feeding the American people the best beef in the world. The horses had been picketed to graze on the lush, mountain grasses before being placed in the corral for the night. The equipment had been unloaded and secured in a small cabin that was tucked into the tree line at the edge of the large meadow that surrounded the camp. She didn’t expect the Four Seasons; but was surprised to see an unexpectedly comfortable base camp unfolding before her. The cabin consisted of two rooms - shared kitchen/dining area encompassing the bulk of the space and a partitioned sleeping area with built in bunks along one wall and a couple of military-style camp beds stacked against the other wall. However rustic it was; it was tidy, clean, and dry. He mentioned how a nearby by spring fed fresh, cool water to the cabin. She commented how she’d never been camping before. He didn’t consider this camping, maybe it was that ‘glamping’ thing he’d seen on the Discovery Channel or something. The cabin had a roof, a stove, running water, and a nearby outhouse - to him camping was bare bones and certainly didn’t involve a roof and an outhouse! She was amazed at how crisp and fresh the air was. While being accustomed to being one of millions in the big city she felt even smaller amid the vastness of the natural world. She had always considered her close to the natural world - yet had never been camping! There was tranquility in the feeling of solitude. It also struck her as odd that the silence was so loud - something she had never experienced before. The only sounds, except for their own voices, was the sporadic chirping of birds, the babbling of the brook that ran along the far edge of the meadow, and the occasional neighing of the horses as they talked to one another. She had always been adventurous - just look at the things she blogged about; but, for some reason a shyness crept into her voice as she asked about the sleeping arrangements. He said there were two options - “Inside or Out … inside the cabin or out in the open air … the choice was hers.” She asked with a grin, “Where are you sleeping?” “Well, given how warm it was today; I think it might be better to sleep outside as it can get pretty stuffy in the cabin at night,” he replied. He finished storing the food, ice chests, and setting up the cookstove in the cabin. He emerged from the sleeping area gestured toward the beds and asked her, “So, Where do I set yours up?” She remembered her pledge to be fearless and try new things on this trip, mustering her courage and with a throaty laugh replied, “Outside of course … …" He answered her with a wink, saying “Don’t worry … I’ll protect you from the bears.” She almost recanted but refused to let him think she was intimidated and just smiled back at him. She was pleasantly surprised how well he could cook. He had prepared a meal of California Mountain Quail marinated in soy sauce and sesame oil and wrapped with a smokey strip of bacon that he had taken during the season opener several weeks ago. It was grilled, served alongside fire roasted corn on the cob that he had picked that morning, with a pomegranate-walnut spinach salad, followed with a chilled cantaloupe to finish the meal. She asked to help him clean up after the meal, to which he steadfastly refused and ushered her out of the cabin. He settled into a chair beside her, and they sat to watch the sunset together. Darkness came rather quickly after the setting sun had painted the sky with vivid hues of orange, red, and blue that faded to a deep purple as it dropped below the mountains to the West. She had never imagined how clear and crisp the evening sky could be. Without the light pollution from of one of the largest cities in the world interfering with their view, stars blanketed the sky, and she was amazed as to how dark it could be without anyone else around for at least 20 miles. The sky was such a dark purple it was almost black. It was awe inspiring and intimidating at the same time and she reflexively reached over to his cot and intertwined her hand in his for reassurance. He said in the Western drawl, that was music to her ears the first time she had heard his voice, “Daylight is going to come early; so, no monkey business tonight.” He laughed and then whispered, “Besides, I’m playing hard to get.” He could see her million-dollar smile flash in the moonlight and swore he could feel her blush from two feet away. From the Gold Country of Northern California's Sierra Nevada Mountains, Range Bull
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That's awfully high praise from someone with your gift for prose !.! I'm flattered that you read and enjoyed my creative endeavor. Stay tuned for the next installment … … Range Bull From the Gold Country of Northern California's Sierra Nevada Mountains, Range Bull
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