Added commentary is in parenthesis.
May 29, 2000-Memorial Day
Fed my cows at 6 am, then went to the flat and Dad and I moved 3 lines and set one line over the fence. We were waiting for Ross to come and pick up the line, but after waiting a few minutes, we got a little bored so we moved one of Alberto's lines (Ahh, yes, farm bored). Boy! That was fun! NOT! It was mud up to about my knee! Ross finally got there and while we were picking up the line we got stuck, so Aaron had to walk about a mile to get another pick-up and a chain to pull us out. In the mean time, the rest of us walked about 1/4 mile with hammers, pliers, and fence posts to build a gate. Good times. We made our gate and got the line all picked up, so I'm thinkin' "Yeah! I'm goin' home!" So I sat on the tool box and took off my boots and socks. (This is where things get interesting.)
Well... there had been a cow get out through our gate. So they (Dad and Ross) decided they should probably put it back in. First they were chasing the cow on foot, running down the fence line yelling at the cow. I thought it would go right in the gate (like every other cow we'd ever chased-sheesh... you think a girl would learn from experience). Well, obviously the cow had another plan and she took off. So, Ross got in the pick-up and continued the chase.
Well... Brad and I were sitting on top of the big tool box in the back. Now, I don't know if Ross forgot that we were back there or if he really just didn't care (I tell myself the first and it helps me sleep better at night). But off we went... swerving back and forth, slowing down and suddenly speeding up again, bouncing over sagebrush, uneven ground and what felt like small sink-holes. There was more than one occasion when Brad and I wondered if we would make it home alive. We were holding on for dear life. Every time we turned we prayed that we would stay on the toolbox. When we swerved left Brad had white knuckles and silver-dollar eyes. One violent jerk of the steering wheel and we were suddenly turning right which meant Brad could relax a little and it was my turn in panic mode with the wide eyes and white knuckles. Back and forth it went. (These 5-10 minutes felt like hours... I think Brad will agree.) Finally we hit a bump that knocked Brad off the toolbox and into the bed of the truck. Normally, I would have helped him. But, since my own life was in jeopardy, he was on his own.
Every time we slowed down a bit, poor Brad would try to make it back to the tool box, but just as he would get up we would speed up and he would jerk backwards or we would swerve and he would hit one of the sides of the pick-up. Finally, he decided we were never going to slow down, so he decided to just go for it, naturally, just then, Ross slammed on the breaks and Brad once again hit the side of the pick-up. But this time, he landed in a corner and decided that he would just stay there.
The corner looked pretty cozy... pretty safe. Safer than the toolbox. So, I let go and let myself fall into the back of the truck. Unfortunately, I landed on a chainsaw and my bare foot hit a roll of barbed wire from previously mentioned fencing project. So my little toe was all cut up. But like I said, the corner represented safety, so when I got to one, I stayed there.
The crazy chase wasn't enough to scare the cow through the gate, but I guess she decided the fence would be OK. So she went right through the middle of it. (Cows!) One more fence to fix before we could go home...
After the cow was safely on the inside, and fences mended, I asked Brad if he wanted back on the tool box. He shook his head, a definate "NO!" However, Aaron joined and made a third passenger, Brad decided the tool box would be okay if he was the middle passenger. We decided we had just experienced something far better than a carnival ride (though neither one of us wanted a second ride... ever).
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