rootin-n-bootin

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Arches National Park, Utah photo: Elliot McGucken

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hey now that we are talking about not villainizing men as it hurts queer men, can we not villainize rural/southern/appalachian/hillbilly people as it hurts the queer people who are those? thanks

-sign, an appalachian, hillbilly trans man who sees and hears more about why appalachians are all bigots and deserve to suffer for their supposed generalized bigotry in the queer community than i do about misandry

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if you can’t fix it you’ve got to stand it being the last line of the brokeback mountain novella is so crazy it makes me feel like my guts are falling out. if you can’t fix it you’ve got to stand it. jesus fucking christ

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The berry pickers creed

I will leave unripened berries untouched

A ripe berry need only be negotiated with, not fought

I will reasses my surroundings after every step, for my new perspective could reveal a berry patch previously hidden to me

The plant gets excited and happy when a barry is picked

The bug is not to be feared or killed, but gently celebrated, for it facilitated in the creation of the beloved berrys

I will not allow myself to be bullied by sharp thicket and I will retrieve even the most protected barry

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Post update!

Cajun Navy and Mission Mules of Mountain Mule Packer Ranch are packing in supplies for the Texas Hill Country following the historic flooding we’ve had.

Once again providing an invaluable service to rescue efforts

So I haven’t really been seeing folks talk much here at all about what’s been going on with Hurricane Helene recovery- but I thought I might share something I thought was cool and important.

Because of how roads have been washed out making homes and towns inaccessible to vehicles, the Cajun Navy (organizations that performs search, rescue, and assistance during disasters) has partnered with Mountain Mule Packer Ranch to use the mules to get medications, food, and water to people in need.

I just think it’s incredible. Despite all the technology you’d think is accessible to help people out, mules are still the most reliable form of transport to save people’s lives

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anyways (I say this as someone who is deeply critical of the united states government, military, unchecked capitalism, police, etc) I am SICK of people treating america as if it has no cultural value or positives so….. I love u 85 million acres (bigger than italy) of national parks. I love u harlem renaissance. I love u groundhogs day. I love u sweet tea and fried chicken and jambalaya. I love u apple cider donuts and maizes on crisp autumn days. I love u 95k miles of coastlines and new england fisherman and hand knitted sweaters. I love u halloween where millions of people dress up and give candy to strangers and carve jack o’lanterns. I love u small talk and small towns and potlucks and bringing over casseroles to your struggling neighbors. I love u cowboys and ranch hands and arizonian cactus. I love u appalachian trail and dirtbikes and divebars. I love u sparklers and fireflies. I love u mark twain and toni morrison and emily dickinson and henry david thoreau. I love u rock n roll i love u bluegrass and hippies i love u jimi hendrix and nirvana and CCR and janis joplin. I love u victorian houses and jonny appleseed and john henry and mothman and bigfoot. I love u foggy days in the pacific northwest and neon signs and roadside attractions. I love u baseball and 1950s diners and soft serve. I love u native american art and pop art and poptarts. I love u blue jeans and barbecues and jazz musicians 

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I don't wanna hear one more bitch saying that contacting your senators&reps doesn't work

Btw, this is FAR from getting rid of the land selloff from the BBB. Keep at it. Mike Lee specifically is notable because he's from Utah, the state that's pushed for that sell off very heavily for mining income.

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Colby & Teeter - Yellowstone

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a yellow stone scene I can’t stop quoting in mine head

“you’re name peter?”

“do i look like mine name is peter you sunck haired mother fucker”

“She just called me a mother fucker”

“you understood that didn’t ya you bull legged basterd”

(Image all this being said in a country accent )

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Why is no one writing for teeter from yellowstone i need her so badly pls pls

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I know it's kinda blurry. The third and fourth categories say:

"Watches in silence- nobody knows whether they're terrified or enjoying it"

And

"Constantly loses the plot and asks questions, ruining it for everyone."

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ALICE SISTY, about 1938. May I tell the tale of how a New Jersey gal gained fame for her 2-horse Roman jumping? In 1928 after obtaining her divorce in Reno at age 22, Alice Sisty rode a horse from Reno to her New Jersey home. On her trek of 3,000 miles, she sometimes slept outdoors in isolated locations and endured desert heat, snow at the continental divide, and rains. After the extensive national publicity of her ride, she joined Miller’s 101 Ranch Wild West Show. She later freelanced, riding bulls and broncs and performing trick riding at rodeos.

After months of training, in 1936 she became the first woman in rodeo history to perform 2-horse Roman riding jumps. For 15+ years, she was one of the nation’s highest-paid female rodeo stars and won numerous crowns in bronc riding as well as all-around cowgirl titles. Text and digital restoration by Gary Coffrin. A low-resolution eBay scan of a Ralph R. Doubleday postcard was my source file. Click or stretch image to enlarge.

— Some Curious History —

The car was Alice Sisty’s own Cord, one of only 205 model 810/812 convertibles made by Auburn Automobile Company during 1936-37. Front-wheel drive and retractable headlights were among its innovative features.

I am shocked that Alice Sisty is not in the Cowgirl Hall of Fame. She had numerous wins in professional rodeos. Her daring feats made her a headline performer at arenas in every state.

At age 17 in 1923, Alice Sisty eloped with Allen Zook, a Harvard graduate, after knowing him only one week. In 1928, she obtained her divorce in Reno, presumably because no state had more lenient requirements for divorce than Nevada.

In 1929, Alice Sisty married Earl Sutton Jr., a rodeo contestant. In 1932, she married rodeo star and western showman Milt Hinkle, who was 25 years older, on horseback in a rodeo arena. In 1942, she married her fourth husband, Henning Sommer, who was nine years younger than Sisty. She died in 1953 at age 47 after an extensive illness.

Alice Sisty was born in January 1906, but later accounts listed 1909 and even 1913. It was not unusual for female performers to claim dates of birth that were later than actual. Her fourth husband, nine years younger, was born in 1915. That may have prompted someone to list Sisty’s date of birth as 1913, closer to that of her final husband.

Alice Sisty grew up in an affluent New Jersey home, not far from a racetrack owned by her grandfather. Her remarkable life has never been chronicled in a book or screenplay, although she had extensive press coverage during her life.

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"It’s not just the larger American audience that misinterprets the meaning of Juneteenth. Across the diaspora the message gets distorted, reflected in how most Juneteenth event flyers often have the colors of the Pan-African movement instead of Juneteenth’s actual colors. The official Juneteenth colors are red, white, and blue. The presence of the patriotic colors symbolizes the American flag, serving as a poignant reminder that slaves and their descendants were, and continue to be, an integral part of the United States."

- Shelby Stewart in "As Juneteenth Becomes Co-Opted, Don't Forget Its Texas Roots" for Okayplayer

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there should be a gender that's "asexual except when theres a werewolf or big hairy man involved"

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My ✨ post-apocalyptic Lesbian Cowgirl Mailman choose-your-own adventure✨ has just updated! Read it here for free on my Patreon and vote in the poll! Here is a guide to get you started, the summaries of each part of the story thus far, the complete collected text, and FAQ, all in one place. They have everything you need to know about Lou, her requited-but-complicated love, the religious assassin who just beat the tar out of her, the worst person she's ever met, and the ill-advised journey she is on! There is also a discord where Pony Express readers from all across god's green internet can gather, here!

✨Read the update for free on my patreon & vote on what happens next!

✨ Excerpt below the cut.

“If I stay not-dead, it’s gonna be awkward for me, going back and telling my mama that actually, I ain’t as dead as all that, after all,” Lou said. She passed Artie the end of the blanket and Artie pulled it over herself. It was good to have her thighs covered back up. Lou had a hard time not looking at them.

“You don’t have to tell her,” Artie said. “It’s not like she’d know.”

“She’s my mama, Artie,” Lou said. “I can’t just let her go all around, thinking I’m dead.”

“It sounds like she wasn’t much of a mother to you,” Artie said. “You said she’d be happy if you were dead. So let her be happy.”

“I ain’t gonna lie to my mama,” Lou said. 

It was true that, except for the weekly income, her mother’s life wouldn’t change a lick if Lou was dead. She hadn’t seen her in a decade. They didn’t write each other letters. Her mother had never seen her compete, or even practice. Her mother probably hadn’t seen her in the saddle since her father was still leading her around on Partner, except to see her leaving down the dirt road on the two occasions that Lou had visited home. The only way that she knew Lou was moving around was that her return address changed. Not that she used it. When she’d dreamed about her mother– or visited her, she still wasn’t sure– her mother had said that she’d planned to send Lou a birthday card. It would have been the first thing she’d ever sent her. She didn’t know who Lou’s friends were– or, more accurately, that she didn’t have almost any– or if she had any love in her life. She didn’t even have any sad, lingering possessions of Lou’s to deal with. Lou was as good as dead to her, anyway. 

It was strange. None of this was news to her. She’d been bitter and torn up and guilty about it for years. Decades, at that point. But she’d never once considered just stopping. She’d shorted her mother’s money before, which was how she thought of it if she made any purchase that was anything less than absolutely necessary outside of her meager self-appointed allowance. She’d wished nearly constantly that she had been able to save up a little money to make her feel a little safer, but it hadn’t been possible because it had to go to her mother. She’d had weeks where she couldn’t even afford more than a couple of dances with Venus, which was really what she’d been living for before she left Hereafter. Still, throughout all of that, she’d never just thought that she could stop. Her mother would have no way of finding her if she stopped writing between moves, even if she felt compelled to try, which she wouldn’t. Even if she wrote Lou a letter and it got forwarded on, Lou would perfectly honestly be able to say she didn’t know what it said. 

“You wouldn’t even have to lie. Just don’t go out of your way to correct her misconception,” Artie said. She kept jiggling her foot, then forcing herself to stop, before jiggling it again. 

“She’s still my mama,” Lou said. “She brung me into the world. I owe her.”

Artie opened her mouth like she was going to say something, then pressed her lips together again.