#Mule Shoe Ranch
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Battle Mountain, NV October 2024
I’m an aunt, again and again! My brother-in-law and my sister-in-law welcomed a healthy baby girl in September. My husband got to meet her in the hospital because he was in northern Nevada for work. AND! And I had to wait until October to meet her because I was in southern Idaho with the kids and we just could not justify the fuel expense to have two vehicles traveling at the same time, to the…
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Uhhh
So🧍♂️
I'm back after centuries of decomposing and I've gotten a new idea
And you guessed it
It's about Legend
I don't have much to say
I've been busy with school and all, and it's been months since I wrote, so this could be really bad
So let's just start
Prompt:
The Chain & You are staying at Lon Lon Ranch for a few days to rest. But you got sick on the way here. Mistakes were made, comfort ensued.
Notes:
Nb!reader | Grumpy Leg | just some cute comfy fluff
Also mentions of puke and other icky stuff
Not proofread btw (and never will be cuz I ain't readin all that again)
The sun was high up in the sky, the warm rays of light setting everything into a calm environment. Malon was cooking up some delicious lunch while the Links were outside doing some farm work, enjoying the sun and the refreshing wind of the late morning.
It was a peaceful day for all of the Chain, for once.
Well, for almost everyone.
You were stuck in the living room, wrapped tightly in a blanket, accompanied by an old musty bucket at your feet.
You had gotten sick just before your arrival, puking right at Legend's feet, which for the record, made him avoid you even more now.
You had only felt that sick once just now, and Legend was unfortunate enough to be right in front of you.
"I'm not risking to have more of their dinner remains on my shoes!"
As Legend phrased it to the others, refusing to get close to you in a 5 meter radius until you were perfectly up and running again.
You felt better now, but he was still as stubborn as a mule. It was incredible to watch.
Warriors was one of the first to be done with his work, as usual. So he decided to give you some company until lunch was ready.
You had only noticed him after the couch gave in slightly under his weight.
"How's it going? Feeling better?"
Wars tries to shoot up a conversation as he's stripping his armor off for the day. You still don't get why he's wearing it while working on a ranch, with no monsters ever in sight.
You gave a meekly "yeah" as your response, which didn't make his mood any better.
Just as the conversation was about to turn awkward, Twilight and Time had walked in to join the waiting progress, conversing casually before heading over to check on me.
"Ya' good, kid?"
Twilight asked as he leaned over the back of the couch to talk face-to-face, still with his usual country boy accent.
After saying the same reply over and over again to everyone entering in the living room, it was lunch time.
Legend had arrived late, only walking in as the infamous pumpkin soup was being served. But no one bat an eye, since everyone could trust him to be the responsible one out of the younger bunch.
All went quiet after everyone greeted Legend at the table, with only very few of Legend's responses served to his travel companions.
All 10 9 of them were all over you. Even if you told them you were doing fine, they would see it as the apocalypse.
The ranch finally started to settle down, each having their free time to spend with either other members, or being on their own on the ranch on in town.
The sky was quick to turn dark, with a clear night sky as the first stars were appearing just now. You could only sit and watch out of the window as the moon shone over this era of Hyrule. It was fascinating how every era looked uniquely different from each other, but the sky always stayed the same, unaffected by the wars and disasters that stuck Hyrule over the centuries.
Aftera short walk on the ranch and being called inside again by Malon to 'rest', you sat back down on the couch, the couch already remembering the spot on the cushions where you had sat all day.
You had planned to sleep on the couch and maybe get some more alone time rather than share a room.
It was great staying with the Chain, really. But sometimes, enough is enough.
The couch moved as someone put their weight on it. You look over, and right next to you was Legend, staring forward like a statue.
It left you puzzled as to why he sat there so suddenly. Maybe he was the one person who knew you weren't sick anymore? It would only make sense, it's Legend after all.
"... alright?"
You could barely make out what we're the first words he said, but you understood his message.
"Yeah. I'm better."
You thought that was it with the daily interactions between you two, but he didn't move, nor did he say anything else.
It wasn't hard for you to read people, and you could certainly sense that something was up...
You both sit there in an awkward silence, listening to the chirps from various bugs outside. But the silence was quite comfortable.
"Sorry.."
Came a mutter from the hero, which was the last thing you'd expect to hear, and from him of all people. Was he apologizing for something for once? But it did feel like he really meant it, which made you feel somewhat better about ruining his boots a few hours ago.
Nonetheless, you were stunned as you tried to come up with a good answer.
"It's nothing. You dont have to apologize." Was the only thing you would come up with, which only set him back to his unapologetic state.
After yet another session of unbreakable silence, Legend grabbed the unoccupied blanket that was draped over his side of the couch. He got comfortable and laid down, probably not in the mood to sleep with the others either, which wasn't uncommon.
...
"Do you mind?"
He eventually breaks the silence, cause you were sitting too close to him, so he was unable to get his legs up properly.
"Right, sorry."
Was your only response as you moved to the end of the couch. With a soft sigh, Legend got comfortable and closed his eyes to finally rest.
Now your space was taken up, and neither of you wanted to get up and sleep in the same room as the other Links.
So now you tried to think of a solution, eventually laying on your side and trying to squeeze onto the couch with him, facing away from each other to avoid any uncomfortable situation.
You could feel him stir a little to make space, but he clearly wasn't happy about sharing.
The space was too cramped for you to sleep comfortably, but you didn't want to move, even if you had no choice.
So against your will, you got up from the couch and immediately laid down again, now spread out on the carpet right by Legend's feet with a blanket and pillow taken with you to the floor to sleep with.
It wasn't even a minute before someone broke the silence.
"Get up."
The hero that had taken up the couch was now up again, not at all pleased to see you sleeping on the floor like a peasant.
"I'm fine."
You wanted to stay stubborn and let him sleep. But you could only watch as Legend got up from his spot and grabbed your wrists, pulling you frim the carpet right to your feet and almost giving you another nausea attack.
You wanted to protest, but he didn't bother to give you a chance to speak.
"Don't you dare do that when there's clearly space. Ya hear me?"
You could only nod as he plopped you down, obeying him without second thought as you lay down for the third time in one night.
"But I don't want you to sleep on the floor."
It's like you read his mind, since he stopped right in his tracks as he was about to settle down at your feet.
"I can handle it."
"So can I."
"No, you–"
"You know I can."
After a quick round of back and forth, you convinced him to not sleep on the old ragged carpet of the living room. But what now?
You could almost see the gears turning in is head. But he eventually came up with something, which was by far, the dumbest thing he's ever done, and something that he will probably regret forever.
"Move over."
He tried to make this quick and easy, and you only followed his command as he pushed you a hit to squeeze in behind you, now between you and the couch.
Being the nice person you are, you gave him some of your blanket, and he surprisingly accepted.
It was an awkward situation, with Legend pressed against your back in dead silence, squeezed together to avoid falling onto the well-aged carpet in the middle of the night.
At first I was hard to even keep your eyes closed, but exhaustion slowly took over as your eyes started to droop.
But something ripped you out of your peace that made your heart speed up.
The veteran had draped his arm over you, holding you close as you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. It was heavy and calm, which meant sleep probably took him earlier than you.
But you knew he was a light sleeper, so without any resistance, you held onto his arm before exhaustion finally took you into a deep sleep.
♤————————
You thought you had rested well, but turns out it was still way too early, since the sun wasn't even up yet.
And you weren't the first to notice, since Legend's arm was gone from your hold, but he was still there, probably trying to keep some distance between your bodies.
You couldn't resist the temptation anymore, imagining his drowsy eyes and his hair all over the place. You shifted your body carefully, slowly turning over to face him.
He was already observing you from the moment he was awake, but there was another awkward stare between you two.
And man.
He looked even better than you imagined.
Everything about him looked more appealing than ever. Or maybe you didn't notice until getting so close to him.
...
"Morning."
You attempt to break the silence of the early morning, wanting to stay on good terms with him.
"Morning."
He replied the same way. He never was much of a talker in the morning, and you didn't mind it.
It felt strange comforting to lay there with him. It warms your heart at just how nice he could be.
But you didn't expect him to do such a bold move.
He was now huddled up to you again, this time with his face buried in your chest. You could see his blush reaching all the way up to his long pointy ears, and my god was he cute.
The comforting space you created only got better as he seemed to relax against you, with your hand now placed on his back to keep him there.
"Hey?"
You tried to get his attention, which succeeded as he looked up at you, his face still flushed a reddish color.
"Is it okay if I rant a little?"
Legend agreed without much interest, bringing you forth to start rambling mindlessly to him. It was almost therapeutic having someone to talk to. And it seemed like he really didn't mind, just wanting to hold onto you.
It's kind of funny, how the one hero that is always so tense is cuddling with you at this moment.
Both of you lay there in silence for a long time, almost falling asleep again from the little comfort bubble you've created.
Legend's face was burried in your chest as you traced some nonsensical patterns on his back.
But then both of you started hearing the creaking footsteps coming from the guests room, where the other heroes are situated.
Before you could even say something to alert Legend, he sprung up from the couch, almost tumbling over you as he got up.
He was up just in time, as Time and Warriors entered the living room area.
"Morning. Where were you two even? I didn't see you at all."
Warriors mentioned as he walked over, just being curious.
"I slept on the floor while [Name] was on the couch."
Legend lied right in his face, but you could understand that he didn't want to be seen cuddling with anyone.
"Protecting the ladies, are we?"
Warriors started teasing again, which immediately broke out into a bickering fight.
But Time was watching this conversation with a big smirk before stopping them from causing any accidents.
Time had come to the kitchen at night to get some water. And on the way there, he spotted the two of you huddled up together.
But your secret is safe with him.
It's not as bad as I thought it would be, and that's wonderful👍
Now that the children have been fed, I must dissapear for another 3 months.
Peace✌️
—♡
#linked universe#linked universe x reader#lu legend#linked universe legend#lu x reader#x reader#z00mbi3s blog#lu legend x reader
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(domestic) equestrian alterhuman tips!!
hii! i'm grey, and i volunteer on a horse ranch. that means several days a week i'm around horses for probably close to 5 hours each day. i'm here to give you some tips related to things i've learned working with domestic horses! most of the horses i work with are either show or just plain domestic.
info under the cut!
1. Food
most of the horses on the ranch i work on eat either something called Gro Strong 33, ADM, senior feed, alfalfa, or a mix of these.
most of these are pellet-shaped, or shaped like a long, skinny cylinder. certain cereals can look like this, and if you're a domestic horse therian/kin/whatever, maybe try eating cereal like this!
many horses on the ranch also get supplements, most of which are just powders than range from a green color to tan to white. it gets mixed in with their feed, which they eat dry. you could, IF SAFE, mix vitamin powder or supplements into the feed/cereal
a few horses on the farm get their food soaked, so it's soft and easy to eat (ex. the seniors do, and a horse named Ethan who choked once does) this makes the food like a mush, and it gets soft and squishy. soaking cereal in your desired whatever could recreate this!
2. Gear
almost year round (expect for winter), most horses wear some kind of fly gear: most of the time either a mask or a blanket.
fly masks, which cover most of the horses face (their ears, eyes, side of face, and nose) are to protect from flies irritating them and biting them. the portion over their eyes is normally mesh. a normal face mask could help recreate this feeling, but it's not ideal. i'm not sure how you could recreate a fly mask tbh
fly blankets, which lay over their back and strap under their belly, are so flies don't irritate their backs. i've only met two animals that normally wear fly blankets, a mule named Duke who was allergic to flies, and a clydesdale who stayed at the barn for one night while traveling. this is pretty easy to recreate, just tie some sort of fabric to your back with the knot on your belly
some horses wear things called bell boots. these are bell shaped things that cover their hooves so they don't throw their shoes (their shoes fall off and get lost). any kind of this that has elastic around your ankles and kind of splays our over your foot can mimic this :)
most horses typically only wear shoes if they live on rough, rocky terrain, to protect their hooves from injury. any horse can wear shoes, though. it's just more common for ones that live on rocky terrain to have shoes. metal sole shoes or hard sole shoes can mimic the feeling of wearing horseshoes :)
thanks for reading! i may update this as needed. feel free to correct me if any of this is incorrect :)

special appearance from Lady the horse
#horse therian#equestrian therian#horse kin#therian#otherkin#otherhearted#alterhuman#nonhuman#therian tips#otherkin tips#otherhearted tips#nonhuman tips#alterhuman tips#horse therian tips
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Events 5.12 (before 1900)
254 – Pope Stephen I succeeds Pope Lucius I, becoming the 23rd pope of the Catholic Church, and immediately takes a stand against Novatianism. 907 – Zhu Wen forces Emperor Ai into abdicating, ending the Tang dynasty after nearly three hundred years of rule. 1191 – Richard I of England marries Berengaria of Navarre in Cyprus; she is crowned Queen consort of England the same day. 1328 – Antipope Nicholas V, a claimant to the papacy, is consecrated in Rome by the Bishop of Venice. 1364 – Jagiellonian University, the oldest university in Poland, is founded in Kraków. 1497 – Pope Alexander VI excommunicates Girolamo Savonarola. 1510 – The Prince of Anhua rebellion begins when Zhu Zhifan kills all the officials invited to a banquet and declares his intent on ousting the powerful Ming dynasty eunuch Liu Jin during the reign of the Zhengde Emperor. 1551 – National University of San Marcos, the oldest university in the Americas, is founded in Lima, Peru. 1588 – French Wars of Religion: Henry III of France flees Paris after Henry I, Duke of Guise, enters the city and a spontaneous uprising occurs. 1593 – London playwright Thomas Kyd is arrested and tortured by the Privy Council for libel. 1601–1900 1743 – Maria Theresa of Austria is crowned Queen of Bohemia after defeating her rival, Charles VII, Holy Roman Emperor. 1778 – Heinrich XI, count of the Principality of Reuss-Greiz, is elevated to Prince by Joseph II, Holy Roman Emperor. 1780 – American Revolutionary War: In the largest defeat of the Continental Army, Charleston, South Carolina is taken by British forces. 1797 – War of the First Coalition: Napoleon Bonaparte conquers Venice. 1808 – Finnish War: Swedish-Finnish troops, led by Captain Karl Wilhelm Malmi, conquer the city of Kuopio from Russians after the Battle of Kuopio. 1821 – The first major battle of the Greek War of Independence against the Turks is fought in Valtetsi. 1846 – The Donner Party of pioneers departs Independence, Missouri for California, on what will become a year-long journey of hardship and cannibalism. 1862 – American Civil War: Union Army troops occupy Baton Rouge, Louisiana. 1863 – American Civil War: Battle of Raymond: Two divisions of James B. McPherson's XVII Corps turn the left wing of Confederate General John C. Pemberton's defensive line on Fourteen Mile Creek, opening up the interior of Mississippi to the Union Army during the Vicksburg Campaign. 1864 – American Civil War: The Battle of Spotsylvania Court House: Union troops assault a Confederate salient known as the "Mule Shoe", with some of the fiercest fighting of the war, much of it hand-to-hand combat, occurring at "the Bloody Angle" on the northwest. 1865 – American Civil War: The Battle of Palmito Ranch: The first day of the last major land action to take place during the Civil War, resulting in a Confederate victory. 1870 – The Manitoba Act is given the Royal Assent, paving the way for Manitoba to become a province of Canada on July 15. 1881 – In North Africa, Tunisia becomes a French protectorate. 1885 – North-West Rebellion: The four-day Battle of Batoche, pitting rebel Métis against the Canadian government, comes to an end with a decisive rebel defeat. 1888 – In Southeast Asia, the North Borneo Chartered Company's territories become the British protectorate of North Borneo.
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Do you have any more stories from your grandparents' ranch? Your tags on the woods gone quiet post enthralled me
aww for sure!!
shit was always loud as Hell. we mainly came to the ranch to fix it up. as a kid i remember they had a small herd of cows truly no more than like? four?? remember one who was “the leader” and hoooo boy was she mean! don’t remember doing it, but toddler me decided i was allowed to get up on her and ride her bareback as one would do a horse. clearly, i gave my grandma a heart attack lmaooo she got me down
the thing i mostly remember about the ranch is how many animals there were. the cows, a mule, there were chickens, and the coyotes were frequent and annoying but to be fair they were here first we ended up in their mountain on their forest. so many snake problems so ya had to double check before u put on Any Shoe because my uncle learned The Hard Way. “cleaning” up the place was always hell bc there’s always a level of like.. dirt? ya can’t ever really shake? like you’re clean but you know ah i’ll be dirty again and that’s just simply how it be.
idk.. even when you were alone, you never weren’t? there’s always birds in the trees, shit in the brush, if the ranch dog wasn’t panting at your side, you’d hear crunch of leaves and other underbrush beneath your feet. it’s noisy. and because it’s so noisy there’s something Deeply unsettling about quiet. quiet just doesn’t happen. if it’s quiet, that means something bad enough is moving through that makes the birds shut up, for the woods to hold their breath. it’s uncomfortable. it’s palpable. you don’t look out the window because whatever it is, you don’t want its attention i’ll tell you that right now. most of the time it was just bumbling bears, my grandpa had a fuckin encounter with a mountain lion, and sometimes it was just the wolves. but also. it’s mexico. we believe in things that are not .. natural. and idk about you, but as a child i wasn’t about to push it, ya know what i mean?
#oop! sorry to babble there!!#idk i have a bunch of disjointed memories about the ranch#i’ve spent every summer there since i was legit 3 so. ya know! i remember things!#theia rambles again
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Summary: Emmett/Maria; friendship @su-angelvicioso
Emmett pretends not to know why he’s down there. He considers playing up the lie that he’d gotten lost; but then he remembers that she knew about Jasper; which meant she knew about Carlisle; and him; and everyone else so she wouldn’t be surprised to see golden eyes. Just the fact he was not Jasper or anyone she had heard of. He wonders if the confusion will be enough to spare him from what Jasper alway touted as a deadly welcome of newborns rushing you. Emmett wasn’t cocky enough to believe he could survive more than five newborns.
He kicks at the dirt; the rocks that had been in his path crumble from the force and he winces. Jasper had advised loose cool clothing; but long sleeves and pants; that he wouldn’t look that odd when he’d wander through towns. Emmett’s regretting taking Jaspers request; to deliver a handful of letters that Jacob had been hiding for him and some scorpion food as well as a few dresses and some very high platform boots. Emmett’s sure that Maria’s feet aren’t a size seven and he reasons they’re for Charlotte; he contemplates them being for Peter but decides that Jasper’s brother in arms wouldn’t go for something so flashy and shimmering as red and gold. Still he makes it past the last town on the map; Jasper having assured him that their base of operations was only a few miles out. He’s debating giving up when a truck slows in front of him and Peter hops out grinning. “Heyyy Em; glad to see you under better circumstances. You’re looking good in plaid; you finally convince the missus to take a vacation” Peter drawls and Emmett shakes his head gesturing to the backpack and suitcase he has. “No, I'm playing pack mule for Jasper; Alice; well anyways.” He grins as Peter takes the suitcase and offers him a spot in the truck.
“Hey Charlotte; guessing the shoes are for you?” Emmett grins as Charlotte beams. “Aww Jazz is such a sweetheart; i mentioned how he set up that modelling gig for me and then he said i needed more pretty things...since someone;��� She glares lovelingly at Peter. “Doesn’t have a job.” “Child labour laws babe.” “You’re like 200 years old… you only look like 20; you could get a job…” Peter taps the side of his face before winking at her. “Not without spending my wages on contacts or becoming like those Cullens. No offence.” Peter grins at Emmett who laughs nodding.
Maria’s base of operations is closer to a mansion ranch house than what Jasper had tried to play off as a barn and some spare rooms. She looks up from a desk when he enters grinning at the bags he sets down. He’s about to say something but she just ignores him turning back to whatever she was working on before. “Hello… You must-” “You’re staring? You’re like Jasper then? Got a thing for-” Maria laughs as Emmett knows he makes a face. “No I just..” ”You’re going to call me short right?” “No; you’re just, well hell you’re really scary looking; not like ugly but you just got this vibe..” He shrugs a little and Maria grins. “Thank god you’re sensible. Now; how about a tour.”
Maria brings him around the entire ranch in less than ten minutes and Emmett is surprised to see her so casual about using her vampire traits out in the open. Even her skin shimmers a blinding golden colour. “You can take that off; we’re far enough out most humans won’t make it out here; and if they do; well the desert always claims someone during the year.” She shrugs and Emmett looks surprised. “What were you expecting?” She tilts her head and Emmett laughs a little. “To be honest I was expecting a military base; with drill sergeants and everything; but it’s just you and your family; not seeming very threatening.” As emmett finishes Maria snaps twice and suddenly the room is swarmed with the newborns clawing and glaring at Emmett. Maria snaps twice more and the newborns vanish. “You were saying.”
“Jesus that was like the fucking lord of the rings with the orcs in the cave…” “Lord of the rings?” Maria furrows her brow and Emmett beams. “Are you telling me Jasper hasn’t shown you Lord of the Rings??? “No we watched the Star Wars ones last time he was here but…” “Right now!!” Emmett nods seriously and Maria rolls her eyes. “Good luck finding that in the town…”
”So” Emmett grins after they’ve finished marathoning it. “I see; come with me.” Maria’s grinning and Emmett is wearing a matching smile. Maria escorts him to a large open field. She nods to him her grin seeming to grow as two of the newborns appear holding a massive trunk. “They’re just human grade… so nothing-” Maria doesn’t finish; Emmett beaming holding two massive swords up. “Fight me!” He laughs as Maria joins in; pulling out another sword and a shield. “Let’s go!” Emmett charges her laughing and grinning.
It only takes them a few hours to run through the weapons in the trunk. “We can get more in my storage shed.” “You have a storage shed of weapons…” “Well of course; where do you think the Volturi get their weapons?” Emmett cheers, laughing. It’s much later in the second day. Almost night, Emmett would make some quip about it being twilight but he knows Maria doesn’t count the days like that; between all the fun they’d had and the strategy and war meetings that Maria tried to hide from him she seemed to keep her days looped on a varying schedule of meetings, fighting and casual relaxing, Emmett notes than none of it involves a pretense of being human; of pretending to be what she once was. Emmett wants to ask about the war; about the letters Jasper has sent but he doesn’t. Thankfully he doesn’t have too.
“So why are you here? It’s not like Jasper to have someone playing pack mule..” “Well things haven’t been going well at home..” “Ah Yes; Ms, Bella Swan nee Cullen, correct? Is she causing him problems?” “No; Alice is. She’s being very; protective; of him.” “Obsessive is more like it..” Emmett doesn’t nod but he makes a hum of agreement. “She saw a vision of them together when she was first turned.” “She should know best out of everyone how the future can change.” “She gets muddled up in it..” “So she denies the supposed love of her unlife, what would make him most comfortable; being away from what was a century’s worth of miserable meals, and the negative temptation of idiot humans who stare and prattle about emotions. Sure that makes sense.” “He talks about you sometimes.” “Well we still talk..”
“No like; he talks about you; tells us about battles you won and fun things you guys got up to during his time here. Even the visits.” “And what does this tell you about me?” Maria arches her eyebrow and looks unimpressed at him; Emmett grins sheepishly. “To be fair; not much… Says more about him than you.” “Oh?” Maria’s grin borders on too wide and she leans forward. “And what does Mi amor say about me then?” Emmett laughs a little and shakes his head. “You should go up and ask him yourself…” “Well when are you going back; I’ll come with you.”
She grins and Emmett debates even telling her to rethink; judging by the way her eyes shine he knows she’d just follow him anyways. “I just don’t know how warmly you’ll be welcomed…” “We’re vampires. Dead creatures; nothing warm about us.” Emmett laughs and nods at her assessment and he almost wishes he was able to warn Jasper but then he stops; agreeing with Maria that it’s far better to surprise your prey than give them a chance to escape.
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#emmett cullen#maria#maria twilight#emmett x maria#twilight#midnight sun#jasper#jasper hale#jasper whitlock#peter twilight#charlotte twilight#alice cullen#jalice#jasria#twilight saga#stattic#written#this was really fun
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The Lily Farm - Chapter 44
AO3 | Masterpost

Rating: M (Mature) - sexual content, violence, and adult themes
Summary: To help her process Sean’s death, Mary Beth asks Arthur to take her on a hunting trip, somewhere far away. He agrees, and on their journey to the north, they find quietude and take comfort in their easy bond. They’ve been friends for a while now, but life, like the wilderness, is full of uncertainty and complications, and as they embark on their desperate search for meaning together, they endure many trials, some small, some big—all of which bring them closer to one another, and to their future.
Chapter 44: Lonesome Doves
“It's a fine world, though rich in hardships at times.”
-Larry McMurtry, Lonesome Dove
It was the next morning. Sadie and Charles were parked outside of Shady Bell, smoking cigarettes, caked in mud, trying to figure out what to do. Sadie had a lot of blood staining up the front of her blouse from when she’d had to shank a man who tried to fuck with Trelawny back on the river boat. Of course Josiah had escaped, but lord knows where to.
“We gotta go in,” she said. “We can’t sit out here forever.”
“What do we tell Abigail?” said Charles. His hair was knotted off his face, the sweat and water all dried. His hands were shaking as he smoked. It had been a long ass night.
“The truth,” she said. “Weren’t our fault, Charles. John was playing the hero. We’ll get him back.”
Charles sighed. “What about Bronte.”
They both glanced back to Sadie’s horse, where Angelo Bronte was bound, gagged, and unconscious. He was missing a shoe. His hair was all wet and he had a big old shiner on his cheek from where Charles had hit him with the butt of his weapon. “We let Dutch deal with Bronte,” said Sadie.
“Is that a good idea?”
“Dutch has been way less…squirrelly lately. Don't you think?"
"Maybe."
"He seems subdued," said Sadie. "Like maybe something’s wrong. Like maybe he’s depressed.”
“I was talking to John the other day,” said Charles, smoking. “He said he thinks Dutch is jealous of Arthur.”
“Over what?” said Sadie, half-laughing. “Over Mary Beth?”
Charles shrugged.
“That’s rich,” she said, tossing the cigarette, lighting another. “That why he cut Molly loose?”
“I don’t think so,” said Charles. “Or, I don’t think it’s that simple. I think it’s something to do with Annabelle.”
“Who’s Annabelle?” said Sadie.
They heard a rustling then, somebody coming through the early morning trees. They both looked up. It was just Karen, but she looked surprised. “What the goddam hell?” she said, holding her shotgun, looking left and right. “When did y’all get back?”
“Just now,” said Charles. “Is Dutch here?”
“Of course. Where else would he be. He’s still asleep in his room. Swear to god he's becoming a goddam teenager. All this brooding and sleeping. Is that—Where’s John?” she said. “What the fuck?”
“What do you mean he’s in jail?” said Abigail. She was standing beside the old dried up fountain in the yard. Jack was still sleeping, upstairs. Half the camp was still rustling awake. It was just her and Hosea, plus Pearson and Miss Grimshaw in a hushed conversation on the porch. They had a couple wild looks about them. They had been waiting up all night, getting ready. It was the word around camp that they’d be leaving Shady Belle any day.
“I mean, he is in jail,” said Sadie. She removed her hat. “Or, he’s on his way. Sisika, I reckon. He got nabbed while was was on the river boat. He was being a hero, Abigail. I guess.”
“Goddammit,” said Abigail. “What a goddam fool. He ain’t no hero. He’s a father,” said Abigail. She was unhinging, slowly. She started to cry. “Where’s Arthur, and Mary Beth? Are they—Oh my god.”
“They must have escaped,” said Charles. “We couldn’t find them, or the Rangers.”
“You couldn’t find them?” said Hosea.
“No, sir. We looked everywhere. The boat was not that big.”
“What are we supposed to do with Bronte?” said Hosea. He glanced to him, fast asleep on the ground.
“I thought we’d let Dutch deal with Bronte,” said Sadie, chewing a reed. She shrugged. “If those Pinkertons was his doing, Dutch’ll get it out of him. Ain’t they got some sort of history?”
“This is not good,” said Hosea, loosening his collar. “What the hell happened on that boat?”
“We boarded,” said Sadie. “Weren’t no big deal at first. We just had a mind to keep our heads down and warn Arthur, detain Bronte if possible, and leave. But we couldn’t find Arthur. Instead, what we found was Pinkertons.”
“Pinkertons?” said Hosea. “On the river boat?”
“Yes, sir,” said Charles. “One of them recognized John. Turned bloody, fast. John took a dive to give us the edge. We grabbed Bronte on a lark after we found him berating his men on the deck. Then we got the hell out of there.”
“Goddammit,” said Abigail, sobbing. “God fuckin dammit. What am I gonna tell Jack?”
“We’ll figure it out,” said Sadie. “Try not to worry. Okay?”
“We’re gonna get him back, Abigail,” said Charles.
Abigail looked away, tears staining her cheeks. She felt a stupid woman.
“I need to go wake Dutch,” said Hosea, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief. “He’s asleep like a goddam mule. We need to make way elsewhere, as soon as possible. Lemoyne is getting way too hot. Too fast. This is becoming a nightmare. Everybody needs to prepare for what’s next.”
“Where will we go?” said Abigail. “Where the hell are we gonna go, Hosea? Without Arthur, and John? What are we gonna do?”
Hosea hung his head, a goddam fool.
Meanwhile, Arthur and LaBoeuf had made their way into Valentine, slowly. It was late morning and they had crept in before first light through the auction yard. They were sitting in the side-streets saloon now, eating oatmeal and drinking coffee at the bar. Arthur had tipped the bartender $5 and asked him what the deal was, whether he knew what was going on with the Pinkertons in town.
“I don’t know exactly for sure,” said the bartender, shining up a wooden bowl. He was about fifty-two with one brown tooth. “They ain’t been in here, specifically. But I got boys at the gun shop, and my woman works at the doctor’s office. They all said the Pinkertons was in town looking for men wanted by the law.”
“Did they mention which men?” said Arthur.
“No, sir.”
Arthur sighed.
“Have you seen a gentleman come through,” said LaBoeuf. He had asked for whiskey in his coffee. “About your age. He would have been with a young woman. Real pretty. Curly brown hair and freckles. They would have been in this very saloon, perhaps looking for us.”
“Not that I know of,” said the bartender. “I work here most nights and mornings. Ain’t been nobody like that in here. No pretty girls to speak of. As you can see, we got a dearth of their kind in Valentine.”
“Thank you,” said Arthur.
“Don’t mention it.”
Arthur glanced to LaBoeuf. They finished their oatmeal. “That’s good,” said Arthur, quietly. “That they ain’t been here yet. Where do you think they got to, after the river boat?”
“I don’t know,” said LaBoeuf. “Maybe Blackwater. Call and I noticed we was headed out that way sometime before the shooting broke out. It wasn’t really an option, if you were in tow, but just the two of them? Mary Beth ain’t no risk with the law, visually speaking. Call neither. I reckon Blackwater.”
“That’s far as hell,” said Arthur. “Blackwater?”
“I reckon they’ll take the train,” said LaBoeuf. “If they are coming from way out there.”
“Maybe we should wait at the train station.”
“No, sir,” said LaBoeuf. “Them Pinkertons we saw—there were three of them. They are camped too close to the station for that.”
“Do you got a contingency?” said Arthur. He finished his coffee in a long gulp and glanced back to the door. “I mean, we can’t stick around here all day. The bartender says them Pinkertons ain’t been through this establishment yet. Means they could still be coming.”
“We got five contingencies,” said LaBoeuf.
“Five?”
“A Texas Ranger is always prepared, Mr. Morgan,” said LaBoeuf. He shifted his weight in his chair, tapped the surface of the bar, and asked for another shot of whiskey. “I reckon we ought to adios from this place, leave a message with the bartender here, and move onto the next. It just ain’t safe.”
“Where’s the next meeting place? Or, contingency, or what have you?”
“The Winterson’s Bed and Breakfast in Emerald Ranch.”
Arthur looked down at his empty bowl. The oatmeal had been disgusting. “Okay. Let’s get a move on then. No use waiting around in this rat trap.”
LaBoeuf nodded. He took his last shot of whiskey, chased it with a gulp of coffee, and then grunted as he pushed off the bar.
“You okay?” said Arthur.
“I’m fine,” said LaBoeuf. “Healing is a bitch, Mr. Morgan.”
“Don’t I know it,” said Arthur. He scribbled a note onto a piece of paper provided by the bartender. He tipped the man another $5 to keep it safe, and to provide that note to Call and Mary Beth upon their arrival. It read simply, Contingency Protocol. He then tipped him $10 more to keep quiet should the Pinkertons come sniffing.
“You one of them van der Lindes?” said the bartender, more curious than anything. He was leaning over the bar with his brown tooth bared, looking a little sly.
“Sir, we are Texas Rangers,” said LaBoeuf, brandishing his badge. “We simply desire secrecy as to our whereabouts, as we are hot on the trail of an outlaw brigade coming through from Arkansas, and we need quiet in our wake.”
“You’ll get no questions from me,” said the bartender, smiling. “I never did like Pinkertons. Hypocrites, all of them. And dirty noses, they got.”
“I like you, sir,” said LaBoeuf.
The bartender thought this was a funny, gave them a half-bottle of bourbon to take with, on the house. Once they got out the door, Arthur ran into an old friend named Mickey, a guy he had met a couple times before on his way through this place. Mickey was happy to see him, and Arthur gave him a little cash, and Mickey asked if there was anything he could do—anything to help Arthur, anything at all.
“You’re a good man, sir,” he said. “A good man. The best man. And my friend. You look like you’re in trouble, friend. You and your partner here. Let me help. How can I help? What can I do for you, good sir?”
Arthur had mixed feelings. Ultimately he said, “Sir, I don’t want to get you into no trouble with the law. But you head over that’a’way, and you cause a commotion in town, any sort really, and you catch the attention of the people, I would be mighty grateful. Don’t break no laws. Don’t get yourself into no trouble, you hear? Just get to hollering about Jesus or anything like that—anything at all. As long as it’s legal. And I would be grateful. I would be grateful indeed.”
Mickey said yes. Yes, of course he would, and he hobbled off to do just that. Started yelling about Jesus, and aliens coming down to get him, then making fun of a man who had fallen asleep drunk with his hair hanging in the water trough by the hotel. “Look at this imbecile!” they could hear him shouting. “Good golly. What a sight!” There was laughter. Arthur and LaBoeuf managed to sneak out through the auction yard again, without any farm hands or Pinkertons getting none the wiser. They mounted up, rode away to the east, seen by none but the sheep and a one-eyed dog Arthur knew by the name of Joe. As they rode to Emerald Ranch they did not look back. It wasn’t far. They arrived by noon.
“Mr. Call?” said Mary Beth. They had swung south of Valentine, stopped at Citadel Rock. They were going to climb the vantage point, scope out the town. He had asked her to stay down with the horses, but she would not do any such thing. So he helped her up where she needed, let her climb the rest of the way on her own. She was agile and strong.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, as they got to the roost. He fashioned a small pair of binoculars from his side. He had kept them holstered near his volcanic.
“You got a son, right?” she said.
He looked through the binoculars. The day was cool. It was about ten a-m when they arrived. “That, I do.”
“What’s his name?” she said.
Unable to ignore her line of questioning, he set down the binoculars and looked at her. “Newt,” he said.
“Newt,” she said. “That’s an interesting name.”
“I thought so, too.”
He went back to his binoculars. At first, he couldn’t see much. Just some one-armed man causing a comical ruckus in the street.
“Where is he now?” said Mary Beth. She was leaning against a little outcropping. She had found a busted up pearl necklace while on the climb. It had been hanging out the side of the rock formation as if somebody had hidden it there.
“He’s in Wyoming.”
“Wyoming, huh?”
“He went up on a cattle drive,” said Call, “met a woman, got married, and he never came back.”
“Where are you from, Mr. Call. Where was Newt born.”
Call took a deep breath, looked back to her. She looked tired and windswept, her curls all coming undone. He was soft for her. She was a good girl. “I was born in Illinois, Mrs. Morgan. Though I consider myself to be from Amarillo, Texas as I lived there for most of my life. Newt was born in a little Texas town called Lonesome Dove.”
“Lonesome Dove?” said Mary Beth. “My. That sounds romantic. What pretty words.”
Call smiled. “Weren’t nothing so romantic, Mrs. Morgan. It ain’t really that sort of town. It’s more like Valentine. Cows and…well, prostitutes mostly.” He looked away, embarrassed for some reason.
“You know, I told Arthur I was pregnant here, right here in Valentine.” She was studying those pearls in her palm. "In the church. We’ve spent a lot of time in this little pit of a town.”
“Is that good or bad?”
She shrugged. “It’s just like any other town, I guess. Like you said.”
Call went back to the binoculars. He saw some suspicious looking wagons outside the town, near the train station. He was trying to makes heads or tails of them.
“You know,” said Mary Beth. “Speaking of Lonesome Doves. I just—I always sort of thought I’d be one, you know? Sad, all by myself, mourning so much of my life. But then I met Arthur.”
“He’s a good man,” said Call, watching Valentine. “He’ll keep you safe.”
“I know that,” she said.
“And you'll keep him safe.”
“From what?”
“Himself mostly,” said Call. “And Lemoyne Raiders.” He gave her a sly grin.
She blushed. “You heard about that?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “I hear you’re quite the shot.”
“I got lucky,” she said. “Arthur showed me how to use a shot gun a long time ago. So far, I have killed one man, one wolf, and dented one turtle.”
He glanced at her. “You dented a turtle?”
“It got away." She took a deep breath and pocketed the pearls. “I’m sorry I am annoying you with all these questions,” she said. “I am just nervous. Do you see Arthur, or LaBoeuf. Anybody?”
“No, I don’t,” said Call, growing serious. “I see who appears to be a Union Army veteran distracting the townspeople. I see a couple Pinkerton Detectives, leaving the general store.”
“Pinkertons?” said Mary Beth. She roused and beckoned for the binoculars. “What the hell are they doing here?”
“I’m not entirely sure,” said Call. He sat back on his heels and shook his head out a little as she looked through the binoculars. He was growing weary. He was not as young as he had used to be. “They don’t seem onto anything, and I didn't see Arthur or LaBoeuf. Could be they’ve moved on.”
“Moved on where?” She handed back the binoculars.
“To the first of five contingency locations.”
“What?”
“Just in case meeting places do not work out, or are blocked or corrupted for some reason, we always have contingencies, Mrs. Morgan. Particularly in high stakes projects like this.”
“Well, where is the contingency?”
“The first is at the Winterson’s Bed and Breakfast in Emerald Ranch.”
“The Wintersons?” she said. She looked a little confused. “Oh. Well, should we just go there?”
“I expect. Perhaps. But I’d like to head into town and just make sure. See for myself. If they’ve been through here, LaBoeuf will leave a mark, a trail only I can follow.”
“Okay,” said Mary Beth. “Well, what should I do?”
“You’ll come, too,” he said. “We’ll enter the town around the side over there, through the auction yard, and go straight to the saloon on the side streets. Whoever this…clown is, he seems to be keeping the company of the townspeople, and the law. For the time being at least.”
“Okay,” she said, bravely. She got to her feet. “I’m ready.”
They rode down into the town, went to the saloon. The moment they walked in, the bartender straightened up off the bar and started acting fishy, like he knew them. He beckoned them both to the counter, and then he leaned in, real secretly, asked them whether they knew a couple cowboys who might have come through earlier. “You know the type?”
“Yes, sir,” said Mary Beth. She had grown eager. “Did they tell you where they was headed?”
“No’m,” said the bartender. He smiled at her with that brown tooth. “Only left me this.”
He gave her the note. Together, she read it with Call, and it was only as they had expected. “We got to go,” she said. “Now, okay? I am growing very impatient, Mr. Call.”
“I am as well,” he said. He tipped his hat to the bartender and gave him $2 for his trouble. They exited the door and snuck past the crowds and the one-armed man.
“I think I know him,” said Mary Beth as she mounted her filly. “Not personally, but I have seen him around.”
“I am beginning to think that his little song and dance is not coincidence,” said Call.
Mary Beth smiled as she pulled on her reins. She hoped it were true.
They rode to Emerald Ranch by skipping the road. They cut over a great many hills and across a couple valleys and a dried up old gulch. Mary Beth glanced down at her hands where she held the reins. The skin on her knuckles was dry as she admired the amethyst ring on her finger. She thought about the pearls she had found over at Citadel Rock. Who had they belonged to? She thought about Lonesome Dove, and what a name for a place, and how she thought it couldn’t be nothing so beautiful even if it were fiction. What a fine name for a place.
They broke through the trees. He glanced back at her. He seemed okay, she thought. She knew she had a habit of underestimating men. All the men she knew had lost so much, particularly in the way of women. She worried for them in ways she knew to be infantilizing and unrealistic. The men she knew, they were strong. They could handle a lot. They could handle anything.
“What was her name?” she said after a little while. “Newt’s mama.”
They crested the tree line, saw the house up ahead. “Maggie,” said Call. “Her name was Maggie.”
“Maggie,” she said, dreamily. She closed her eyes to think of it. The working girl from Lonesome Dove, named Maggie, had the baby of a steadfast Ranger as Woodrow Call. It was a pretty story, and so sad. She sighed. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Call.”
“Thank you," said Call then, but he was distracted. He held his hand up. She stopped her filly on a dime. "Hold up."
“What’s wrong?”
When they finally got to the yard, it was after the high noon sun, and the day was still cool. They noticed multiple horses, too many of which they did not recognize. Mary Beth regarded the house. It looked closed up, empty. It was strange, no smoke in the chimney. She thought Lizette was always cooking something. There were a couple boards over one of the front windows, too. Now, she was listening for the hounds.
“Mrs. Morgan?” said Call.
“Where’s the hounds?” she said.
“What hounds?”
“There’s hounds,” she said. Her horse was shuffling, like she was picking up on Mary Beth’s uncertainty. “The Wintersons keep hounds to guard the acreage. Five, maybe six. They’s always roaming in the daytime. You can always hear them.”
“I count four horses in total,” said Call. “Two by the barn, two up by the house.”
“I don’t recognize a one of them,” said Mary Beth. “But Arthur knows a lot of people around here. He can get horses. And those others could belong to the Wintersons, I suppose?”
“You ever seen them before?”
“No, sir,” she said. “But I—I don’t know their horses. I just—Why’s that window boarded up?”
“Everything’s probably okay,” said Call. He was trying to keep her calm, even as he was staring up the yard at that big, blue house like he trusted nothing about it, like it was the hellfire of satan. “It’s probably fine.”
“What else could it be, but fine? What could be going on?”
“I’m gonna go up by myself, Mrs. Morgan. Check things out.”
“What should I do?” she said. “What if you need back-up?”
“You watch me,” he said, getting down off his horse. “You just stay right here, and you watch me closely.”
“What if it’s a problem?” she said. “What if you need my help?”
“I will give you the signal,” he said, drawing his pistol.
“What’s the signal?”
He held up his hand like so, in a fist, knuckles out. “This is the signal. If you see this, scream like hell.”
“Scream like hell?”
“Create a distraction, Mrs. Morgan.” He gave her a knowing look, cocked his volcanic. “You can do it.” He nodded, steadfastly. “I know you can.���
#red dead redemption 2#rdr2#arthur morgan#mary beth gaskill#arthur x mary beth#arthur morgan x mary beth gaskill#the lily farm#<3
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R2R2R - trip report
4/20/2019
I didn’t sleep at all. After rolling around in my tent aimlessly for a few hours I decided it was time to get going. At about 4am, after a quick coffee and a couple of avocados, I left Mather Campground and drove toward the grand canyon visitor center to park. From there I ran a quick 1.5 miles or so to the South Kaibob TH.

I decided on the South Kaibob > North Kaibob > Bright Angel Route. First, because it gave me a chance to see more of the canyon, and even though it was 2-3 miles longer, it was a “less steep” ascent out of the canyon when I would need the relief most - I knew I would be feeling the hurt at that point. As a bonus, parking at the visitor center, about halfway between both trailheads, would let me tick off an extra couple miles to get me as close to my goal of 50 miles as I could bear, having to run to the South Kaibob TH from my car and possibly back to my car from the Bright Angel TH if my legs were still functional.
One of the most difficult parts of the day was just getting out of Mather Campground. I drove around for about 20+ minutes trying to find my way out. After flagging a family in a minivan down to ask for help escaping the campground, they laughed and told me to follow them out. Finally making it to the visitor center, I parked, stretched, ran to the South Kaibob TH, and descended into the abyss.

The weather was perfect - 55 degrees F at the TH and about 65 degrees F down at skeleton point - clear skies and crisp, clean air with this deep hypnotic purple and crimson red glow permeating down into the steep corkscrew below.

I was only at Cedar Ridge (1.5 miles in) when I knew that the stairs were going to be a major problem for my left knee that had been having some IT Band issues. I’m not a fan of stairs on any trail really as they force you into an unnatural rhythm and create a very awkward angle on your joints. Luckily though, I didn’t hit any mule trains on the way down and I knew that would save me some time.

When I finally made it down for my first glimpse of the Colorado River, I submitted to the pain, even though my knee was in a full blown rebellion against me, hinting for me to abort while I still could.

It was normal for the joints in my knees to start rubbing at that time, before I discovered how to stretch, strengthen, and foam roll properly, but usually only after about 25 miles in. I was only 9 miles in and knew I had about 40 something miles to go. This would be the going back point if I decided to give into the growing discomfort, but I dug in, and decided there was no way in hell I was going back, even if it meant not walking for a couple days. I was hell-bent.

After my first crossing of the Colorado, the terrain flattens out into one of the most exotic, single-track, slot-canyon trails I have ever been on. Or at least for the next 8 miles from Phantom Ranch to Manzanita Creek. The latter I knew was my only water stop on the entire north side of the canyon because the north rim would be closed for another couple of weeks.
I was in a nice groove, running about a 9 min/mile pace, listening to boulders crack into each other beneath the Bright Angel Creek beside me, crossing small suspension bridges, smelling the prehistoric red dust that came up with each step, becoming more and more comfortable with the pain in my left knee as my world above the rim began to melt away. I began to settle into this lush, Sonoran canyon-land.
I had only passed a handful of hikers at this point, but was more interested in catching up to the two running shoe prints that I had been seeing since I dropped in. At Manzanita Creek I bumped into two Canadian girls in full running gear who seemed super happy to see another runner planning on completing the same route. They confirmed they had left the trail head 45 minutes before me so I was convinced it was the two prints that I had been chasing all morning. This gave me some closure that I was making decent time, being right on schedule with the splits I had calculated beforehand. We talked for a few minutes while filling up on water, all of us thrilled about being on this epic run. I pressed on ahead though and told them I would see them on my way back down from the north rim. Off I went.
Passing Roaring Springs was another cool rush and a well needed distraction from the ever sharpening pain in my knee. I could feel the vibration of this massive waterfall thundering down into the canyon, reminding me how small I was. Farther up the trail I began to hear what sounded like helicopter blades, echoing louder and louder as I passed over and under misty bridges and aqua blue waterfalls. Finally, about 3/4 of the way up, I came around the corner to the source of loud echoing blades. It was a helicopter lowering what looked like a generator to two workers harnessed onto the side of the sheer canyon wall. I was stunned that these two guys were just hanging onto the side of a cliff going about their work like it was normal, grabbing onto the slowly repelling machine, giving the helicopter pilot a thumbs up that they had control of it. I remember wanting to say something to them but I didn’t know what to say because I was so perplexed, so I just kept running up the trail smiling in wonder, smh.
At this point, I had passed a couple of runners who were on their way down. This surprised me because I hadn’t really seen any other fresh tracks earlier on the South Kaibob besides those of the two girls I just bumped into, so I assumed they probably just came down Bright Angel. I over-enthusiastically exchanged high fives with them, being so excited again to encounter other people on the same run as me. I noticed that none of them were wearing packs though which made me question if I was the only one wearing one, but then it dawned on me later on that most of them had probably stashed them at Manzanita to cut down unnecessary weight for the 5,000′ climb up the rim. Next time.
When I finally made it up to the north rim there was nobody. Just a bunch of left over snow. I had pictured this moment in my head, but I couldn’t have imagined how much peace and happiness I would feel as I rested my legs for the first time and slowly ate a bag of dried cranberries and some trail mix. I was as far away from safety as I had ever been and I had never felt better. What a strange and enlightening moment that was.

After about a 10 minute rest, my mind was back to the 24 mile challenge ahead of me with a blown out knee. The water spigot was dry which I knew was going to be the case reading every nps report I could, but nonetheless I was hoping to fill up at the slight chance the spigots were back on for the season. I also decided that on this rare occasion I would take some Ibuprofen I had packed, attempting to numb the increasingly sharp pain I was feeling. So I threw some pills in my mouth and a big handful of snow to wash them down. I packed some snow into the knee brace I was wearing as well as my hydration bladder to cool down and supplement whatever water I had left. Regardless, I felt amazing as these hardy calories coursed through body. I had only been eating gels up to this point (about 8 GU’s). The temperature had dropped to about 43 degrees F on the north rim so I put some layers back on, covered my neck and face with a buff, and dropped back into the gorge with an incredible sense of refreshment and vitality.
About 3 switchbacks down from the trail head or 400 yards or so I turned around the corner to hear a “Cack cack cack cack” of branches snapping in half that I will NEVER forget. I turned to respond with my eyes to see what my ears just heard.

I’m not sure exactly what it was, but it was big, and as quickly as my head could turn, whatever it was disappeared back up towards where I had just come from. I had read several reports of cougars being spotted in this particular area this time of year but I’ll never really know what it was. I was officially spooked though and started running like hell. All pain in my body disappeared as the adrenaline took over.

Shortly after this encounter I bumped into the Canadian girls again who were on their way up. I was coming at them fast and when I finally got to them I told them what had just happened. They immediately stopped in their tracks and turned around to come back down with me. I didn’t want to discourage them from missing the north rim but I think they could tell that I was genuinely spooked and that was enough for them. They followed me pretty closely for about a mile down until they were feeling a little more at ease, and they finally stopped to rest. I kept going, and this was the last I would see them. I was genuinely spooked, but as my downhill pace picked up and the endorphins started flooding through my veins, that fear transformed into exhilaration like I have never felt. This was now a true adventure.

Then, as quickly as my high surged to its highest point, the pain began to set in again. This time with a ferocity that still sends shivers down my spine thinking about it. I was now unable to control the limp that had been developing as my knee was almost completely locked.
At this point the temperature started spiking again as I made my return to the canyon floor. I was burning through water quickly and ran out about 2 miles before hitting Manzanita again. Water never tasted this good. There was a guy lying on the bench there getting some rest. He had his hat resting over his face but kept one eye peeking out at me, watching me nervously, gulping water into my mouth faster than I could swallow it.

I knew this upcoming section from Manzanita to Bright Angel campground would be the easiest and the perfect opportunity to make up some time that I had begun to lose from my slowing pace. It was about 8 miles of slightly downhill running. I went into autopilot, grinding my teeth, and wincing in pain at every uneven step I was forced to take. Somewhere around Cottonwood campground I found a nice river crossing and soaked my legs in the rushing cold water for a few minutes.
Throughout the day, I had this growing realization that even though I was in pain, all things were fair somehow. Nature provided as much as it could for me. It gave me snow to stuff in my knee brace and in my pack when I ran out of water. It gave me a gentle breeze when I was burning up, and a nice cool river to soak my legs in when they began to swell. Ultimately though, nature is impartial. It’s not there to soothe your pain. It’s not there to comfort you when things get bad. Nature is there to give you a glimpse into yourself. It’s there to remind you that you are alive. Each moment your heart is still pumping blood throughout your body is a good moment.
My legs still slightly numb from the ice cold soak in the river, I flew through the rest of the narrow canyon, past Phantom Ranch and back to the Colorado.

I had been contemplating going back up the South Kaibob knowing it was the shorter route, but I was determined to stick with the plan, knowing I would be seeing one of the most beautiful trails on earth, and finishing what I set out to do.
The sun was blazing down as I crossed the Silver Bridge during the hottest part of the day and ran the sandy banks of the Colorado River toward the bottom of the trail. I knew the hardest part of the trip lie ahead. They say the Bright Angel is the safest trail in the canyon, but 40 miles in, nothing seemed safe. Beautiful streams and lush gardens taunted me to stop and enjoy like all the other hikers and leisure seekers, but I knew I had to keep going. Surprisingly, I was still passing people on the trail pretty quickly and began to develop the feeling that I was on the other side of my fears, confident I would make it out. I knew looking up to the top was a big mistake and would check my growing confidence if I did. I could see it out of the corner of my eye, but I tried to keep a balanced approach, staying focused on the moment and each next step, but not forgetting to appreciate the desert paradise surrounding me.
At this point, I was helplessly tripping over rocks and smashing the tips of my toes harder and harder as I became more fatigued. I couldn’t lift my legs high enough to step over them anymore. I knew that my left and right big toenails were probably going to fall off. I couldn’t feel them anymore though. I knew this was pretty common with ultra runners and it used to gross me out quite a bit. Now, it was a sign that I was progressing. It was an initiation, a marker on my path to running long distance ultra marathons.
I made my final water refill at Indian Garden. Using the last of my salt tablets and the rest of my food, I felt like I had planned my nutrition pretty well, and now that the sun was beginning to set below the rim I was really bouncing back from a mental low. This was the most beautiful portion of the trip I thought. The final switchbacks were long and steep and took everything I had, but I felt good and really took in the beauty of the trail for the last few miles as I reflected on my day.
As my ears began to pop, I knew I was close. If I stopped at all at this point though my knee would completely lock up, so I kept a steady pace most of the way back up. With the help of some positive vibes from a hiker, my spirits were lifted just high enough to get me out with a smile. As I slowly and haggardly made my way past her, she asked if I was ok. Apparently I didn’t look so good, but I smiled, coughed, and nodded my head up and down in exhaustion. We had a couple quick laughs at my expense, questioning my sanity and the dirt covering my face, and then before I knew it, she was gone, several switchbacks below as I maintained course. I was still so focused on the end.
Seeing camera clad tourists with no hiking gear on was my sign that I was close. They had no idea what I had just done, and that was comforting to me, knowing that I had this little secret. They would probably never see what I saw or experience what I experienced that day. This was my moment of self-transcendence. This is what I had been searching for my whole life. Just over 12 hours and 49.2 miles later, I reached the Bright Angel trail head.

#r2r2r
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Chapter 6: Fargo the Cattle Thief
For centuries cowboys have moved livestock through the plains, up and down the Continental Devide, from the mighty Mississippi to California and from the Brazos to the Rio Grand. Library shelves are lined with novels and historical fiction depicting cowboys and gun slingers, train robbers and horse thieves, bordellos, Comanches, Apaches and Crow.
A few days with Fargo was akin to speed reading volumes of Zane Gray, Larry McMurtry, Louis L'Amour with a smattering of Laura Ingles Wilder thrown in. When I was growing up cowboys were legends and here I was with my boyhood hero.
As a young cowboy Fargo went where there was work. He was in Montana when he and his buddy were offered fifty cents a head to drive cattle over to the Canada side. Fargo said no. The ante was upped to three dollars, but Fargo smelled a skunk. Something about these guys he didn't like. When the offer reached a lucrative five dollars a head, Fargo's partner weakened and made the deal.
Crossing over the border they were run down by the border patrol and charged with taking stolen cattle into Canada. After a night in jail and pleading mea culpa, the judge gave Fargo the choice of doing time or joining the Cavalry in Korea as a civil servant. He made the choice and took his first air flight to the other side of the world.
Fargo performed well in Korea shoeing mules and horses for the U.S. Cavalry. At night he would shoe the villager's mules for a little extra cash which he attributes to saving his life. He was particular about his farrier work making sure hoves were cleaned, trimmed and polished with brown shoe polish that he always carried in his supplies.
One time, he recalls, he and 2 soldiers were riding along a waterfront. They were ambushed and his two friends were shot off their mules and were killed. "The damn Gooks didn't kill me because they recognized me as the 'good shoer' from the village."
Later, he remembers, he was being transported with other troops and three crated mules in a C57 when the plane caught fire. He, being a civilian, had no parachute traning but was quickly harnessed and pushed out of the burning plane along with three crated mules. He found himself behind enemy lines with only two mules that survived the jump. The surviving mules began braying for the third mule who had met it's fate in the jump. Afraid the "Gooks" would hear the mules, Fargo rubbed shoe polish on their noses to quiet them. I assumed they were busied trying to lick it off. But it shut them up.
Crouching by a roadside, he finally heard English being spoken and saw a Jeep with US military personnel approaching. Boy were they supprised when an American kid with two mules came out of the bushes.

When he got back from the war he worked for the circus awhile. He respected the animal trainers and learned alot from them, but he had no use for the people who performed high wire acts.

At one point in his life, Fargo joined the Texas Rangers and while he did not know Pancho Villa, he had respect for how Ole Poncho and General Pershing handled the Comanches and the "wet backs." Fargo showed us his Texas Ranger badge which was struck from a Mexican peso. He had several pictures of Poncho and his friend Edgar May, from his horse breaking days.
Becky and I sat and listened to Fargo as he told stories. If he couldn't recall he would look puzzled and tell you, "I don't remember," or "I can't recall." But if you asked a question that he had already covered, he would snap, " I already told you that dummy!" He did not hesitate to give you his opinion. He liked Paul Newman but thought Robert Redford was a brat. He liked John Ford, but told the story about when his Raven bit John's ear. He did not like Michael Landon of "Little House" but liked Hoss (Ben Cartwright) of "Bonanza.
He was not impressed with or did he care for Mike Wolf or Frank Fritz who visited The Ranch early in their career as American Pickers. He said that the two and their crew were not respectful.
Fargo is a man of strong prejudice and kind passions. There were questions we wanted to ask but felt there were times in his life he would rather not talk about.
Never have I felt like I struck a chord with anyone like I did with Fargo. He was the childhood hero that took me 60 years to meet.

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March 1939: Divorce Final, Wedding Watch On!
March 1, 1939 – The Miami News
That forthcoming marriage date for Clark Gable and Carole Lombard, first itemed here weeks ago, will come off on schedule – they spent the last fortnight with interior decorators getting their new home ready to move into on the wedding day.
March 2, 1939 – Spokane Chronicle
The mule which Carole Lombard presented Clark Gable as a gag gift on his birthday has been put to work pulling a plow over the star’s 14-acre tract at Encino…
March 2, 1939 – San Francisco Examiner
Carole Lombard, wearing a farmer’s straw hat and overalls, driving Clark Gable’s station wagon…
March 3, 1939 – Los Angeles Times
If anybody asks you today “What’s new?” you can tell them Clark Gable, who will marry Carole Lombard on St. Patrick’s Day, has purchased 12,000 chickens for his new ranch…
March 4, 1939 – Buffalo Evening News
Clark Gable Expects Freedom on Tuesday
LAS VEGAS, Nev. - By next Tuesday, Clark Gable may be free to marry blonde Carole Lombard, his almost constant companion at picture colony affairs for the past three years.
Mrs. Maria Gable, 49-year-old wife of the actor, on Monday will complete the required 42 days of residence here and will be eligible to obtain a decree immediately.
There were indications, however, that she would not appear before Judge William E. Orr before Tuesday.
Mrs. Gable arrived here Jan. 22, rented the palatial new home of her attorney, Frank McNamee, and appeared little in public, although she was noticed occasionally with friends at a swanky gambling casino. Visitors from Hollywood, where she is one of the film sets most popular hostesses, were frequent. Her outside activities were restricted to several fishing expeditions to Lake Mead, behind Boulder dam, and a trip to the skin run on nearby Mt. Charleston.
She and the 38-year-old screen hero were married eight years ago in Santa Ana, Cal. They separated four years ago because of what she termed “temperament.” Under a property settlement effected two months before the separation, Mrs. Gable received $286,000 from her husband in three years. The settlement was taken to court in Los Angeles in January for clarification, the last preliminary to her journey here.
March 7, 1939 – Hartford Courant
Clark Gable and Carole Lombard have confirmed the chatter that they will have as quiet a wedding as possible under the circumstances – i.e. with the whole country alert to their plans. They want Gail Patrick and her husband, Bob Cobb, as witnesses, but this will be a last-second decision depending on last-second circumstances.
March 8, 1939 – San Francisco Examiner
Divorce Awarded to Mrs. Clark Gable
LAS VEGAS – Mrs. Maria F. Gable was granted a divorce today when she testified in a cheerful voice that her noted screen lover husband, Clark Gable, deserted her and refused to come back.
The decree was handed down by Judge William E. Orr in a courtroom from which all but witnesses and press had been barred. The hearing last but 4 minutes.
CHARGES DESERTION
Smartly garbed in a simple black frock, short hip-length jacket, black straw hat and black shoes and gloves, Mrs. Gable gave her name, said she had lived in Nevada for six weeks and then told how she married Gable, then just getting started on his film career, in Santa Ana, Calif, on June 19, 1931.
Her attorney, Frank McNamee, Jr., asked her if there was any community property. She answered “no.” Then he asked if she charged desertion, and her answer was “yes.”
“Were you deserted in October 1935, and did Mr. Gable disregard the marital bonds?”
“Yes.”
“Was this done willfully and without your consent and without any reason on your part?”
“Yes.”
SOUTH AMERICA TRIP:
Then she added:
“He said he was going to South America and that when he came back, he wanted to try it alone.”
“Did he try it alone?”
“Yes,”
“Was this without your consent and without cause or reason on your part?”
“Yes,” she replied, with a tiny smile, and went on: “He said he wanted more freedom. He came to my house several times after that, but only to talk to me.”
NEVER OFFERED:
“Did he ever offer to return to the martial state?” queried the attorney.
“No.”
“Again, was this without your consent?”
“Yes.”
She then was shown a waiver and identified the signature as that of Gable.
Judge Orr asked her:
“The only reason he went away was because he wanted more freedom?”
“Yes,” was the calm reply.
“The decree may be granted,” commented the judge and the case was over in rapid-fire Nevada style.
Gable, who settled approximately $286,000 on his wife since their estrangement, filed a written appearance and waiver by mail yesterday.
March 8, 1939 – Evening World
Steps out of Gable’s Life

March 8, 1939 – Daily News
Gable Divorced: Carole Admits She’ll Wed Him
Las Vegas, Nev., March 7 – Clark Gable, whose large ears could not prevent his becoming Hollywood’s All-American heartthrob was free tonight, as a result of a divorce his second wife obtained here, to marry blonde Carole Lombard, his partner in the film colony’s most famous “Unmarried Husbands and Wives” romance.
In Hollywood, comedienne Carole nonchalantly admitted their intention to climax with a wedding ceremony their long and close friendship – one of several such Hollywood romances recently publicized by a fan magazine under the attention-inspiring title of “Unmarried Husbands and Wives.”
But apparently there will be no hurry.
“We have made no plans,” she remarked, “but when Clark gets a few days off and I am not busy, perhaps we will sneak away and have the ceremony performed.”
Gable busy in Hollywood on the set of “Gone with the Wind,” smiled but said, “We have made no plans for the time or place.”
The way to wed was cleared this afternoon when Mrs. Maria (Rhea) Gable, 48-year-old second wife of the 38-year-old film hero, received a divorce after a five-minute private hearing before judge William E. Orr.
Property settlements and other preliminaries to the divorce, for which Gable paid Rhea $286,000 – plus income tax – were arranged before Mrs. Gable came here six weeks ago.
Difference in their ages was blamed for the breakup of the Gable marriage. Mrs. Gable, a Texas oil heiress, was the mother of two children when he married her at Santa Ana, Cal., on June 19, 1931. At today’s hearing she charged her deserted her in October 1935.
“He said he was going to South America,” Mrs. Gable, dressed in black with pink trimming, testified about the desertion. “When he came back, he said he wanted to try it alone. He said he wanted more freedom.”
“After this, he came to the house several times to talk to me but never offered to return to the marital state.
“I came here on Jan. 20, 1939, and have been here ever since.”
Mrs. Gable, a cheerful witness, said she plans to leave for New York tomorrow to visit her friends, Mr. and Mrs. Sam Wood. She will return to Beverly Hills in about a month, she said, and make her home there.
It was about the time of Gable’s desertion of his wife that he met Miss Lombard at an “all white” party at which she appeared in a red dress. They have been constant companions during the last four years.
Gable’s first wife, whom he married in 1924, was the former Josephine Dillon. They were divorced after four years.
March 8, 1939 – The Knoxville News Sentinel
Scarlett O’Hara All That’s Between Gable and Carole
By Frederick C. Othman
Clark Gable knelt at the feet of a red-haired Englishwoman today, fingered a pair of sweeping sideburns, said “Scarlett, honey, ah love yuh,” and wondered how long it would be before he could marry blonde Carole Lombard.
It may be tomorrow. It may be next week, or next month. It all depends on the on-again, off-again progress of the movie “Gone with the Wind.” He was at the studio early today acting the romantic part of Rhett Butler, romantically but obviously a little impatiently. Not far away, in her home, Miss Lombard was downright impatient, and she said so.
“When Clark gets a few days off and I am not busy perhaps we will sneak away and have the ceremony performed,” she said upon hearing that his second wife, Mrs. Rhea Gable, had been granted a final divorce decree in Las Vegas, Nev.
Gable Is Silent
But Gable, No. 1 Hollywood leading man, only grunted “no comment” and turned again to hold the hand of Miss Vivien Leigh, English actress who has the part of Scarlett O’Hara, in the movie “epic” of the Civil War.
Today Gable’s ranch house in the San Fernando Valley was being dolled up to grant the very whim of even the most discriminating bride. Her close friends in the movie colony expected Miss Lombard’s blonde beauty to grace it very soon.
Mrs. Gable No 2, who is 48 and 10 years his senior, obtained her decree in one of Nevada’s famous five-minute court sessions before judge William Orr. She said he had deserted her. The clerk handed her a decree, brightly bordered with red ribbon, and she walked out sans husband.
Get Big Salaries
A few hours later she was at the roulette table of the swank Las Vegas Apache Casino playing, as usual, heavily. She said she probably would return her today, then later visit friends in New York. She had no further matrimonial plans, she said.
When they say “I do,” Gable and Miss Lombard will become one of the biggest-salaried families in the world. She gets $450,0000 a year, most of which she says she is glad to return to the government in income taxes. He earns about the same, so his $35000 exemption as a married man won’t be much help.
Mrs. Lombard, who is 29, has been married once before, to William Powell. She divorced him in 1929.
The divorced Mrs. Gable was the actor’s second wife.
March 8, 1939 – San Pedro News
Wedding to Carole Lombard Near, Admits Clark Gable
Clark Gable, whose one-mule ranch lacks a woman’s refining influence, let the world guess today on how soon he’ll bring home Carole Lombard as Mrs. Clark Gable No. 3.
It may even be this weekend, but Clark wasn’t saying, as he received the news that his second wife, Marie, had given him his freedom by a four-minute divorce trial yesterday at Las Vegas, Nev.
fixing UP THE chicken coops and pitching hay for the mule “Bessie,” which Carole gave him as a birthday present last month, the he-man film hero admitted his nuptials were near but he hasn’t made plans “for the time or place.”
Gable was supposed to have been paying court to Vivien Leigh in the ruffled shirt and long sideburns of a southern dandy, but his studio call for “Gone with the Wind” was cancelled because the script, after more than two years of preparation, still needed tinkering.
Today, however, he was to report on the set to resume his Rhett Butler role opposite Miss Leigh’s Scarlett O’Hara with a new director, Victor Fleming replacing George Cukor.
It may be as long as three months before the oft-delayed and still sporadic “Wind” is completed and few friends think Gable will wait until then for another leap into matrimony.
Miss Lombard is not exactly pining in inactivity, either. She must pose for portraits and poster art this week before starting a new picture.
Amateur Cupids speculated that the pair probably would slip off to Yuma, Ariz., or a Nevada point in a quick elopement and delay a honeymoon until their movie assignments are out of the way.
March 8, 1939 – Fresno Bee
The vigilant movie reporters who are shadowing Clark Gable and Carole Lombard waiting for them to marry following Ria Gable’s divorce, granted yesterday, can relax. Right from headquarters I am told there will be no marriage until the house in the valley is completed. Right now it is in a state of complete reconstruction. Clark is working on Gone with the Wind, and Carole starts Memory of Love at RKO April 1st – so, unless there is an elopement, which I doubt, the marriage won’t take place for some weeks.
March 9, 1939 – The Holyoke Daily Transcript

Pictured together as they watched a Los Angeles, Calif., boxing match are motion picture stars Clark Gable and Carole Lombard. Clark and Carole are expected to be married soon, now that Mrs. Gable has secured her divorce.
March 9, 1939 – Los Angeles Times
Ranch Chores Occupy Gable
Clark Gable and Carole Lombard, free to marry since Mrs. Ria Gable obtained her final divorce papers at Las Vegas last Tuesday, spent yesterday gardening – but a considerable distance apart.
The husky film star went in for agriculture in a big way.
Miss Lombard, on the other hand, contented herself with planting petunias on the grounds of her spacious Bel-Air estate.
At his Encino ranch, Gable sat at the wheel of a tractor and indulged in a bit of spring plowing around his citrus fruit specimen trees. He tapered off toward evening with a spot of chicken coop patching and painting.
Yet as Mrs. Gable returned to reoccupy her home in Beverly Hills, which Actress Ina Claire had leased during her sojourn in Nevada, not a hint came from the actor or his comedienne-friend regarding their future matrimonial plans.
It was the belief along Hollywood’s gossip row that Gable and Miss Lombard probably would stroll quietly into the Los Angeles marriage license bureau at closing time some afternoon and apply for permission to wed – just like ordinary folks.
March 9, 1939 – Lansing Star
Clark and Carole Keep Far Apart
While all Hollywood watched with closer than close interest, Clark Gable and Carole Lombard stayed quite far from each other today.
Gable, free to marry the beauteous Miss Lombard as a result of the divorce obtained Tuesday in Nevada by Mrs. Maria Gable, was doing a great deal of agricultural work at his new San Fernando valley ranch.
Miss Lombard was conferring with her mother Mrs. Elizabeth K. Peters, who is contesting the will of an aunt by marriage, Mrs. Nancy McMahon Cheney, disposing of a share in a $1,274,000 estate.
And neither Gable nor Lombard would say a word about getting married, although everybody in Hollywood has predicted it would take place almost any time.
Meanwhile, Mrs. Gable returned from Las Vegas where she divorced Gable on grounds of desertion, to her home in Beverly Hills and prepared for a trip to New York and Texas.
March 10, 1939 – Los Angeles Times
If, as and when the ceremony occurs, and there seems to be no question that it soon will, Wesley Ruggles will be a particularly interested guest at the wedding of Carole Lombard and Clark Gable. It was Ruggles who first introduced them in 1933 when they were signed to appear together in one of his pictures, “No Man of Her Own.” And almost the first scene they had together was a fond embrace…
March 12, 1939 – Great Falls Tribune

Clark and His Carole
Here is the latest picture of Clark Gable and Carole Lombard, made as they attended the fights in Los Angeles. Divorce of Gable by his wife in Las Vegas, Nev., paved way for marriage of the screen actor and the blonde Carole.
March 12, 1939 – San Francisco Examiner
If you want to see Carole Lombard these days, you’ll find her out on her 14-acre ranch in San Fernando, wearing overalls and planting seeds like everything.
March 12, 1939 – Evening Star

March 13, 1939 – Pittsburgh Press
Clark Gable need only walk across the street now for his laughs. Groucho Marx recently closed a deal whereby he has purchased an eight-acre estate directly across the street from Gable’s new ranch in Encino.
Gable purchased the Raoul Walsh property. Marx bought the Bleasdale property, with large home, orange grove, and facilities for keeping riding horses, and is moving in immediately.
March 15, 1939 – Kansas City Star
Clark Gable is so excited about getting his new home in the valley ready for himself and Carole Lombard, he refuses to come to the studio for polka dancing lessons. Instead, the dancing instructor goes out to the Gable mansion and tries to teach him to tread the light fantastic with music supplied by tractors and plows.
March 16, 1939 – Los Angeles Times
Tom Douglas and Rex Evans, former actors, have been decorating like mad – Clark Gable’s new house, which will be finished tomorrow. While the wires are burning up due to the effort to find out the wedding date of Clark and Carole, Clark, when he gets a couple of hours off, doesn’t bother about anything except tilling his soil. No King and Queen stuff for either him or la Lombard. They’ll break the news to all the papers at the same time.
March 16, 1939 – The Call Leader
Speaking of GWTW, it certainly will wreak havoc with any plans Carole Lombard and Clark Gable might have for a real honeymoon. Even before the recent delays, MGM figured that Clark would be busy on the picture for five months.
March 21, 1939 – Times Tribune
Carole Lombard has hired 24 gardeners to complete a rush job on Clark Gable’s Encino estate. Carole’s mother, Mrs. Peters, has put on record her desire for a church wedding, or a ceremony in a private house performed by a preacher. Well, we shall all know soon what Clark and Carole intend doing.
March 22, 1939 – Fort Worth Star Telegram
Associated Press
Hollywood - Carole Lombard was found directing a crew of workmen remodeling a 14-room house at Encino near here Tuesday.
“I don’t know – we don’t know yet,” she replied to a query as to when and where she and Clark Gable would be married.
“How did you find this place?” she asked in turn. “I asked those fellows at the studio to keep it quiet.”
This “honeymoon cottage,” now owned by Gable, formerly belonged to Director Raoul Walsh and is situated on an orchard-studded estate. It has detached servants’ quarters, stables, a rumpus room, and bar, but no swimming pool.
Gable was divorced by his second wife, Rea, in Las Vegas last March 7 and reports have been current that he and Miss Lombard would marry soon.
“As soon as I know, everybody will know,” Miss Lombard promised.
March 22, 1939 – Pittsburgh Sun Telegraph
You don’t think, do you, there was anything personal in the gift Carole Lombard sent me yesterday – a lemon the size of a grapefruit she swears she picked off a tree on Clark Gable’s ranch…
March 23, 1939 – The Winnipeg Tribune
For the first time in his career, Clark Gable is shying from newspaper visitors. Those going on the set of “Gone with the Wind” are told that any conversations with Gable must omit queries concerning his approaching marriage to Carole Lombard. “He is getting very tired of it all,” explains the main in the front office, “and has become extremely sensitive.”
March 23, 1939 – Daily News
Gable, in addition to playing the part of Rhett Butler, a task which is exhausting enough in itself, is bedeviled too by the newspaper men and fan magazine writers who want to know when he is going to wed Carole Lombard�� Every writer out here is hopeful of an exclusive story, but if Gable is as smart as I figure him to be, he won’t play favorites on this one… He had better call in all of the crowd at the same time and announce the wedding date, because I don’t know of any performer who has received such nice treatment from all of the press as the big Ohioan… When I was leaving him yesterday, he said: “You’re the only writer who hasn’t asked me the date,” and if he wants to know why, the above nine lines are the reason.
March 25, 1939 – Hartford Courant
A happy-looking “six-some” at the Beverly Brown Derby – Clark Gable, Carole Lombard, Robert Taylor, Barbara Stanwyck, Gail Patrick and husband Bob Cobb. Facing them were a radiant couple – Hedy Lamarr and Gene Markey, both wearing trousers.
March 25, 1939 – The Winnipeg Tribune

March 28, 1939 – Philadelphia Inquirer
(Louella Parsons)
It is surprising the way gossip here spreads. A rumor started that Carole Lombard and Clark Gable had quarreled. It was announced over the radio and all the way from New York came a query to this desk. The whole thing is ridiculous.
Yesterday Clark entertained Carole, her mother, Mrs. Bess Peters, and her brother Freddie, who has been in New York, at the ranch in the Valley, where the newlyweds will make their home.
Just because they didn’t marry the moment Clark was divorced from Mrs. Ria Gable is no sign there is trouble or that there will not be a marriage. These two have planned their whole future together and it is absurd to think there is any difficulty.
March 29, 1939 – Democrat and Chronicle
Hollywood (INS) - Clark Gable and Carole Lombard are not going to be rushed into marriage, friends of the stars say.
Gable, whose wife divorced him, has been free for some two weeks to take the bride of his choice, but neither he nor Miss Lombard has time for the kind of wedding that is to their fancy.
There is no telling what the stars may decide to do. But they have in mind something in the way of an old-fashioned wedding, and not one in the Hollywood manner, with an airplane trip to another state and newspaper reporters on the trail. An elopement, it’s called.
Gable is busy with “Gone with the Wind.” He is before the camera almost every day, and will be until around the first of July. Miss Lombard is almost equally active at her studio, and is available only for a weekend wedding sans honeymoon. And a weekend wedding is not listed as the preference of either.
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The 4 Best Places to Wear Western-Inspired Fashion Footwear
The western aesthetic is iconic for a reason. It reminds people of classic western movies with John Wayne taking down the bad guys and has a connection to ranches and homesteading that have been an integral part of American history. Whatever western style brings to mind for you, you can’t look at a pair of western-inspired boots without picturing how they’d look matched with some denim. This summer is the perfect time to get a couple of western-inspired fashion shoes for your rotation. Plus, there are a number of great places to wear them this season.

Wear Classic Heeled Boots to the Rodeo Classic western boots can turn a basic ensemble into a stylish outfit with some flair. The rodeo is a great place to rock a pair of tall, heeled, old-west boots. Heading to the stands to watch some of the best cowboys compete is the perfect opportunity to showcase your new boots. Pair them with your favorite jeans—tucked into the boots, of course—and your favorite western shirt, and you’ve got a look that will fit right in. Boots like this deserve an event as classic as the rodeo. They’ll also look great with denim shorts strolling the farmers’ market on the weekend. Rock Textured Boots at a Concert In the beginning, it was a six-string guitar and a campfire. Now, it’s sold-out stadiums. Country music has evolved, and so has western style, so rock some stylish boots with a western vibe to your next concert. Find a pair of boots or booties textured with a snakeskin look and a high or block heel so your style can look right at home from the opening band to the headliner’s encore. While you’re listening to choruses reminiscent of Johnny Cash and Hank Williams, your boots will rock on with you. You can also rock textured boots for a night out or happy hour during the week. Strut Your Stuff at the Fair with Western Booties The fair is the perfect place for you to mix western styles with more modern designs. A western bootie combines the best elements of both. You get the classic western aesthetic with a bootie design that makes it feel like a fresh style. Get one in a traditional color like tan, black, or light brown for a more classic look. Wear these booties while walking around the fair, getting your favorite food, and checking out all the prize-winning vegetables. You’ll feel right at home with your fashion-forward footwear. You’ll love your booties so much that you’ll find any excuse to wear them, including to the office. Head to Dinner in a Western Mule If you’re going to a fancy dinner, a pair of western mules can be styled to fit in just as well as any of the black platform heels in your closet. To help western mules instantly give your dressed-up look a taste of the American frontier, seek out a pair with an earthy-toned look. Olive, brown, or black mules can fit a wide variety of date night or work party looks. You can pair them with your sleek dress or go full western with some jeans and a nice blouse. Either way, some stylish mules are a great way to bring a western vibe into a restaurant. This easygoing, fashionable style will also look great running weekend errands and is sure to get compliments at your next brunch. About Chinese Laundry Chinese Laundry is your go-to source for fun, flirty, and feminine fashion shoes. Their footwear collection features everything from sandal wedges to peep toe heels so that you can find the perfect match for your favorite outfit. Whether you need something to dazzle at your next company party or a pair of cute shoes for Sunday brunch, Chinese Laundry has you covered. They have a wide variety of styles and designs to help you look your best. Choose from booties, pumps, flats, sandals, and more as you explore everything the Chinese Laundry family of brands offers. Find classic styles or fresh new designs that push the boundaries of fashion with Chinese Laundry. Lasso up your favorite western styles with boots at https://www.chineselaundry.com/ Original Source: https://bit.ly/3BVfy1v
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I absolutely love dog companies, specifically @chewy and @thefarmersdog. She always ate her kibble from Chewy, however her teeth were deteriorating and it became difficult for her to eat. Then about a year ago Coco stopped all together. So I started making her food, but she eventually stopped eating that. That’s when I tried The Farmer’s Dog. From the first bite, she loved it! She had three different recipes specifically made for her. I believe that food gave her the energy she needed to keep going. She was still excited when I grabbed my running shoes and always wanted to go on a run, even though her hips wouldn’t allow her to go as far as she used to. Mitch started picking her up when I was 1/4 mile in, and she happily got on the golf cart. She would gladly let me pick her up and put her on the mule to go across the streets to check on the cows. She took her last trip with us a few weekends ago to Brady, TX to watch the drag boat race. She stayed by me the entire day after my surgery, she just looked so sweet in the morning sun. ❤️🐶💔 I’m so glad I take too many pictures! 😢#chewydog #chewy #dogsofinstagram #rainbowbridge #thefarmersdog #furbaby #mybaby #cocoloco #dogsofmuldoon #racedog #travelingdog #sunset #texassunset #tailsofcoco (at KB Ranch) https://www.instagram.com/p/Ce2U25TLHlj/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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Events 5.12
254 – Pope Stephen I succeeds Pope Lucius I, becoming the 23rd pope of the Catholic Church, and immediately takes a stand against Novatianism. 907 – Zhu Wen forces Emperor Ai into abdicating, ending the Tang dynasty after nearly three hundred years of rule. 1191 – Richard I of England marries Berengaria of Navarre in Cyprus; she is crowned Queen consort of England the same day. 1328 – Antipope Nicholas V, a claimant to the papacy, is consecrated in Rome by the Bishop of Venice. 1364 – Jagiellonian University, the oldest university in Poland, is founded in Kraków. 1497 – Pope Alexander VI excommunicates Girolamo Savonarola. 1510 – The Prince of Anhua rebellion begins when Zhu Zhifan kills all the officials invited to a banquet and declares his intent on ousting the powerful Ming dynasty eunuch Liu Jin during the reign of the Zhengde Emperor. 1551 – National University of San Marcos, the oldest university in the Americas, is founded in Lima, Peru. 1588 – French Wars of Religion: Henry III of France flees Paris after Henry I, Duke of Guise, enters the city and a spontaneous uprising occurs. 1593 – London playwright Thomas Kyd is arrested and tortured by the Privy Council for libel. 1743 – Maria Theresa of Austria is crowned Queen of Bohemia after defeating her rival, Charles VII, Holy Roman Emperor. 1778 – Heinrich XI, count of the Principality of Reuss-Greiz, is elevated to Prince by Joseph II, Holy Roman Emperor. 1780 – American Revolutionary War: In the largest defeat of the Continental Army, Charleston, South Carolina is taken by British forces. 1797 – War of the First Coalition: Napoleon Bonaparte conquers Venice. 1808 – Finnish War: Swedish-Finnish troops, led by Captain Karl Wilhelm Malmi, conquers the city of Kuopio from Russians after the Battle of Kuopio. 1821 – The first major battle of the Greek War of Independence against the Turks is fought in Valtetsi. 1846 – The Donner Party of pioneers departs Independence, Missouri for California, on what will become a year-long journey of hardship and cannibalism. 1862 – American Civil War: Union Army troops occupy Baton Rouge, Louisiana. 1863 – American Civil War: Battle of Raymond: Two divisions of James B. McPherson's XVII Corps turn the left wing of Confederate General John C. Pemberton's defensive line on Fourteen Mile Creek, opening up the interior of Mississippi to the Union Army during the Vicksburg Campaign. 1864 – American Civil War: The Battle of Spotsylvania Court House: Union troops assault a Confederate salient known as the "Mule Shoe", with some of the fiercest fighting of the war, much of it hand-to-hand combat, occurring at "the Bloody Angle" on the northwest. 1865 – American Civil War: The Battle of Palmito Ranch: The first day of the last major land action to take place during the Civil War, resulting in a Confederate victory. 1870 – The Manitoba Act is given the Royal Assent, paving the way for Manitoba to become a province of Canada on July 15. 1881 – In North Africa, Tunisia becomes a French protectorate. 1885 – North-West Rebellion: The four-day Battle of Batoche, pitting rebel Métis against the Canadian government, comes to an end with a decisive rebel defeat. 1888 – In Southeast Asia, the North Borneo Chartered Company's territories become the British protectorate of North Borneo. 1926 – The Italian-built airship Norge becomes the first vessel to fly over the North Pole. 1926 – The 1926 United Kingdom general strike ends. 1932 – Ten weeks after his abduction, Charles Jr., the infant son of Charles Lindbergh, is found dead near Hopewell, New Jersey, just a few miles from the Lindberghs' home. 1933 – The Agricultural Adjustment Act, which restricts agricultural production through government purchase of livestock for slaughter and paying subsidies to farmers when they remove land from planting, is signed into law by President Franklin D. Roosevelt. 1933 – President Roosevelt signs legislation creating the Federal Emergency Relief Administration, the predecessor of the Federal Emergency Management Agency. 1937 – The Duke and Duchess of York are crowned as King George VI and Queen Elizabeth of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland in Westminster Abbey. 1941 – Konrad Zuse presents the Z3, the world's first working programmable, fully automatic computer, in Berlin. 1942 – World War II: Second Battle of Kharkov: In eastern Ukraine, Red Army forces under Marshal Semyon Timoshenko launch a major offensive from the Izium bridgehead, only to be encircled and destroyed by the troops of Army Group South two weeks later. 1942 – World War II: The U.S. tanker SS Virginia is torpedoed in the mouth of the Mississippi River by the German submarine U-507. 1948 – Wilhelmina, Queen regnant of the Kingdom of the Netherlands, cedes the throne to her daughter Juliana. 1949 – Cold War: The Soviet Union lifts its blockade of Berlin. 1965 – The Soviet spacecraft Luna 5 crashes on the Moon. 1968 – Vietnam War: North Vietnamese and Viet Cong forces attack Australian troops defending Fire Support Base Coral. 1975 – Indochina Wars: Democratic Kampuchea naval forces capture the SS Mayaguez. 1978 – In Zaire, rebels occupy the city of Kolwezi, the mining center of the province of Shaba (now known as Katanga); the local government asks the US, France and Belgium to restore order. 1982 – During a procession outside the shrine of the Virgin Mary in Fátima, Portugal, security guards overpower Juan María Fernández y Krohn before he can attack Pope John Paul II with a bayonet 1989 – The San Bernardino train disaster kills four people, only to be followed a week later by an underground gasoline pipeline explosion, which kills two more people. 1998 – Four students are shot at Trisakti University, leading to widespread riots and the fall of Suharto. 2002 – Former US President Jimmy Carter arrives in Cuba for a five-day visit with Fidel Castro, becoming the first President of the United States, in or out of office, to visit the island since the Cuban Revolution. 2003 – The Riyadh compound bombings in Saudi Arabia, carried out by al-Qaeda, kill 39 people. 2006 – Mass unrest by the Primeiro Comando da Capital begins in São Paulo (Brazil), leaving at least 150 dead. 2006 – Iranian Azeris interpret a cartoon published in an Iranian magazine as insulting, resulting in massive riots throughout the country. 2008 – An earthquake (measuring around 8.0 magnitude) occurs in Sichuan, China, killing over 69,000 people. 2008 – U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement conducts the largest-ever raid of a workplace in Postville, Iowa, arresting nearly 400 immigrants for identity theft and document fraud. 2010 – Afriqiyah Airways Flight 771 crashes on final approach to Tripoli International Airport in Tripoli, Libya, killing 103 out of the 104 people on board. 2015 – A train derailment in Philadelphia kills eight people and injures more than 200. 2015 – Massive Nepal earthquake kills 218 people and injures more than 3,500. 2017 – The WannaCry ransomware attack impacts over 400,000 computers worldwide, targeting computers of the United Kingdom's National Health Services and Telefónica computers. 2018 – Paris knife attack: A man is fatally shot by police in Paris after killing one and injuring several others.
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Grand Canyon Rim-River-Rim, October 2019
Grand Canyon
Wednesday, October 23rd
Rim to River and Back details
4,600’ elevation gain
4,900’ elevation loss
18.2 miles
7 hours, 55 minutes clock time
6 hours, 53 minutes travel time
This included a side trip to Phantom Ranch
Route:
down South Kaibab
quick stop to put our fingers in the water
to Phantom Ranch
Back across the river
up Bright Angel
My best ideas are never what anyone would call “smart.”
Mark Markley had the idea a while back to do something really stupid.
OK, I’m listening…..
He proposed running the Grand Canyon. All of it.
From Rim down to the River up to the other Rim, down to the river again and finally back up and out to the South Rim. It’s also called Rim-to-Rim-to-Rim, and it’s something like 42 miles. You can probably guess, you are either going uphill or downill. There is no flat ground.
A bunch of us said we would do it. All of us but Mark Markley dropped out, and then Mark got injured.
Then I got laid off and needed to get the hell out of town for a couple of days. Family was up for it. United airlines was up for it (10,000 miles and $40 each way), and it wasn’t like training for distance has ever been that important to me. No, I wasn’t training for this. I think I had maybe 18 running miles since January of this year.
Whatever, I got the gear, I like to suffer. Why the hell not?
After flying with a very early departure out of SFO, I grabbed a rental car. Seriously Phoenix? Your rental car center is bigger than the Mall of America, and I was on the road, finally arriving in the town of Grand Canyon, or whatever the hell they call it, around 3pm where I met Mark and Beth Markley at the Grand Hotel at the Grand Canyon. I also did a phone interview on the way. Unemployed means you do phone screens when they are available.
You may also notice a theme. Total lack of knowledge and thought. It’s pretty simple route - first you go down, then you come back up, so it doesn’t even really need a map. Yes, we forgot the damn map too.
That evening we did a quick recon trip to find the trailheads so we would be ready the next morning. It took us a bit to find South Kaibab trailhead which made it all the more important we did find it BEFORE the morning of. You can’t drive to the South Kaibab trailhead, so Beth waited with the car while Mark and I hoofed it in the ½ to ¾ mile to Yaki Point. When we found the actual trailhead, where the trail clearly drops into the canyon I was giddy like a 3 year old on Christmas. Practically bounced my way to the dirt and I think I said, “holy fuck man, this is it!”
I’m super eloquent like that.
So we cruised back, stopped for a pizza, and headed back to the hotel to pack. Which mainly meant Mark and I stared at our gear scattered around the hotel room and said, “I don’t know. What do you think we need to take?”
We knew the start would be cold with a forecasted low of 29F (that’s -2 for my Canadian peeps). We also knew we’d be heating up quickly on the trail. I opted for my standard coolmax sleeveless T-shirt (which I ALWAYS wear), a long sleeve duofold shirt and my Marmot Precip windbreaker along with my boony hat.
For shoes, I’d glued some velcro on a pair of crossfit shoes so my trail gaiters would stay down. I debated and debated about bringing trekking poles and finally decided to bring them. I hate trekking poles except when I need them, and these poles got a free ride to the bottom of the canyon and back up. But they were there if I needed them I guess.
3am wakeup and caffeine up. 4 am Beth drove us to the trailhead.
Seriously Beth, thank you. That was a serious crap detail to wake up with us and drive us. On the way, Mark and I complained that the temp was too high as we were seeing 32F (0 Canadian) on the Subaru’s thermometer. Beth dropped us off and the hike commenced at 0420. After just a couple of minutes we were at the trailhead and dropping into the canyon.
Within seconds we were already down several hundred feet vertical, and we were getting warm. It was probably only a ½ mile in before we decided to shed our jackets. While shedding our jackets we also decided to shed our long sleeve t-shirts and our hats. I kept my gloves on at this point, but I did stash my trekking poles in my backpack.
Down we went, switchback after switchback. Our headlamps trained on the trail ahead of us which, like all good trails, have completely random steps, and log retainers and granite slabs. Just look down and keep moving.
We didn’t have a map, and I didn’t even have a watch.
Yeah, I know. I’ve laughed at those idiots who had to be rescued because they were stupidly unprepared for reality. Oh well, just keep moving.
Somewhere about an hour in I powered through my first Rip Van Waffle, eg the stroopwaffles that you get on United flights. I think mine was snickerdoodle. I’m definitely bringing those on the next adventure. So good and just the right hit of thin waffle and honey filling.
At Cedar Point, it was still dark, and it took us a couple of minutes to find the trailhead across the clearing from the trail. Note: it’s literally directly across the clearing.
Down, down, down. Pausing occasionally to take a leak (check for urine color) or point out a headlamp either above us or below us on the trail. At some point we hit the halfway point sign. 3.5 miles to the canyon rim and 3.8 miles to Phantom Ranch.
It was cool. It was dark. We were just pushing on.
We ran for maybe 100 yards at one point, but the trail is so random it was best to just move at a steady pace. Honestly, we were pushing it even if we were “just walking.”
I was taking steady pulls off my camelbak and feeling well hydrated.
It was beginning to lighten up a bit with the sun in the west, and at some point we hit one of those amazing vistas and our first sighting of the river. Took my breath away for a few seconds.
We kept moving forward and were caught by some whippet little ultrarunner who prob weighed no more than 135 pounds. We were, of course, very polite as he went by, but after we spent a few minutes comparing him to Sean Prior who also is whippet thin and would have been much faster than us had he not broken his foot.
And then we saw the Phantom Ranch suspension bridge. And then we dropped down further and crossed the Phantom Ranch suspension bridge. Really. It was no easy downhill, but we just kept moving.
We took a brief detour to actually touch the river. You can do this entire route without actually touching the Colorado. C’mon, that would be lame.
Phantom Ranch is about ½ mile of the trail and up a canyon. This trail is the trail we would have to take to get to the North Rim, but we stopped at Phantom Ranch like the good, smart kids we are.
We’d been on trail for 3 ½ hours.
That said, I did ask Mark how pissed off Beth would be if we went ahead and did the North Rim too.
I wasn’t kidding.
I mean, it would have totally sucked, and Beth would have been HELLA pissed off, but I was thinking about it.
On the way up to Phantom Ranch we bumped into a guy who had come down the day before, was taking a rest day at the campground and would be headed up and out the next day. He was amazed that we were doing this in a day. He also mentioned that he fell pretty hard coming down because he was looking around too much. Another benefit of traveling by headlamp is that you can only see a little bit in front of you. No sightseeing.
After a short break at Phantom Ranch, I pulled my long sleeve t-shirt off again (I get cold when we stop), and we headed down towards the river, across the river and over to Bright Angel trail.
There were more people about. Bright Angel is a popular trail. As we motored along we saw a mule train behind us in the distance. One woman jogged by saying she wanted to get ahead of the mule train. Mark and I pondered picking up the pace, but thought it best to stick with our fast hike. Why waste energy now that we’d have to pay for later?
It was full sun by now, and I was wondering just how exposed the trail would be as we hiked up. You see, I had not brought any sunscreen.
There’s really not much to be said. After a mile or so we turned left and up into a notch as the upward portion of Bright Angel trail began.
We came across a couple of little creek crossings and hopped across them. They would have been full on torrents earlier in the year. We also came across a couple who were both seriously overweight, but they had packs and were making it happen. Kudos to them.
Up we went. By this time we could see a person or two ahead of us. I use them as rabbits and try to pick them off by picking up my pace. I’m somewhat externally motivated like that.
More switchbacks, more climbing, the cliff sides blocked the sun from beating down on us.
It’s a bit of a blur. Fast walk, drink, eat (rip van waffle or espresso Gu), pee, keep walking.
Seriously. That’s all it is.
We made it to Indian Camp where we refilled our camelbak bladders.
There’s a mule ride location at Indian Camp, and we saw a couple get delivered to the camp by helicopter. Must be nice.
We also saw a mom and her 9’ish year old daughter who were hiking the canyon.
Mark had his sticks out by now for the uphill. My hands had their usual hiking induced edema and I couldn’t have held trekking poles if I wanted to. It’s really OK, because I didn’t want to.
Lot of people were coming down for the day hike, we were also cathing and passing many folks who were on their way up. Some were from an overnight at Indian Camp or elsewhere with heavy looking backpacking packs and tents and sleeping bags. Oh how I much prefer going light.
More uphill, more water drank from the camelbak, my last waffle. Trail was fairly crowded considering we had seen almost nobody on our downward trek.
We hit the 3 mile rest house (3 miles from the top) and kept going. No need to fill up on water.
By this time I thought we had a chance to finish in under 8 hours if we got to the top by noon. I know, my math was wrong, but I was feeling really good and had a ton of trail rabbits ahead of us to stoke my ego as we caught and passed them.
I’m always so damn barn sour.
Mark was feeling it by now and my ability (on a good day) to completely dissociate from the pain and tiredness in my legs was not aligning with how Mark was feeling, so we backed it down.
Bam! 1.5 mile rest house. Only 1.5 miles to go. Little did we realize, it’s a pretty darn brutal 1.5 miles. We were both surprised at how much that last 1.5 miles sucked in terms of steep trail.
Plus the short hikers were all over the trail. Folks who stay in the middle of the trail or hike 3 abreast. Thanks folks.. but MOVE!!!
And then we could see it, the buildings on the South Rim and the short tunnel through the rock at the end of Bright Angel trail. We hauled ass into the finish, weaving through a very crowded trail.
Sub 8-hours clock time (even if we did not finish at noon, I suck at trail math)
Mark had cell service, so he called Beth to swing by and pick us up - AGAIN, can I say how much Beth contributed to the success of this venture?
While we waited, I, of course, started freezing with my now soaked t-shirt, so I pulled on my long sleeve T and my jacket. Beth grabbed us in no time since she was already in the village and jetted us down to the hotel.
It’s been a rough couple of weeks, so I chose to pack up and head out to Phoenix where I had booked a super luxurious $35/night hotel room in Mesa. Why didn’t anyone tell me Mesa is not exactly close to the Phoenix airport?
It’s not. Lesson Learned.
By 6am the next morning, I was on my flight home.
Yes, I showered before my flight….
What an incredible trip and recon for doing Rim-to-Rim-to-Rim later. We learned that we can pull it off without running. We can make it happen on little to no training (that’s important for me because I don’t have any desire to actually train), and it’s a kickass adventure.
Thanks Mark!
Thanks Beth!
Start time:
4:20am - Beth dropped us off at Yaki Road and 64 (cars are not allowed onto Yaki Road, only park busses are allowed)
Took all of 10 minutes to get from the car to the trailhead
32deg temp at start
Gear
Reebok Speed TR shoes
Joe trailman gaiters
pair of Injinji socks and pair of Under Armor socks
compression shorts
Prana shorts
Nike sleeveless T
duo fold long sleeve shirt
Marmot precip jacket
pulled off jacket
decided to pull off the duolfold long sleeve too! didn’t need it
Food:
Carried 4 Rip Van Waffles, 2 Dutch Vanilla caramel, 2 snickerdoodle
3 Vanilla bean Gu, 2 Espresso Love Gu
2ea 2 3/4oz Lays potato chips
Food that I Ate:
all of the Rip Van Waffles (8) - those things ROCK
the 2ea Espresso Love Gu’s that I had, but not the Vanilla Bean Gu’s
1 bag of Lays potato chips
A couple of Tum’s and 3ea ibuprofen somewhere on Bright Angel, but no thermotabs, I think I did the meds at Indian Camp
Water:
carried 100oz camelbak bladder
refilled at Phantom Ranch (was still about 1/2 full)
refilled at Indian Camp on Bright Angel (was still about 2/3 full)
Was maybe ½ full when we finished the hike
temps were very cool, stayed cool through the day
mostly trail was in the shade which was good
Next time BRING SUNSCREEN!!!
I got lucky and did not need sunscreen today, but if I had needed it I would have been roasted.
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Fargo The Kid : Chapter 3
As best we can figure, Fargo was born around 1939. His Scottish grandfather had laid claim to land that spanned upper Montana into Canada. When Taft ordered the 49th parrallel established, the ranch land was split, his family was granted duel citizenship and were able to ranch on both sides.

His mother was Blackfoot Indian and evidently Fargo had a rocky relationship with her that led to his running away from home somewhere around age 13. He did mention that later-on in his life she would visit him occasionally and would send him Stetson hats on his birthday. In a separate conversation, Quattro revealed that when Blackfoot Mom would arrive at the ranch, Fargo asked all ranch hands to leave. But his mother, evidently, was not the only woman for which young Fargo had a disliking.
As a young kid, Fargo loved horses and learned how to rope, ride, shoe, and train the equine on his father's ranch. He rode his horse twelve miles each way to a one room school house. His classmates also rode long distances as well.
He observed his teacher treating the horses in a way that disagreed with him. He, in-turn untethered all of the horses, set them atrot and rode off on his steed. Later, after an apparent parent-teacher meeting, his father decided it was time to send the wayward young Fargo to military school.
Learning the plan Fargo ran. He gathered provisions, a few pack mules two horses and snuck-out in the dark of night headed south, down the Continental Divide. He would stop along the way to ranch-hand or shoe horses and mules.

There were many dangers for a youngster in the wild wilderness, but Fargo developed the skills of reading situations and faces and knowing when he was in danger.
If he encountered rough people who wanted to take advantage he would back-track, make people think he was headed to his nearby home then continue on his journey toward Mexico.
He always woke up before sun-up (still does) and left without saying goodbye. He had uncanny horse sense, animal sense, and had learned survival skills and how to track people and animals from the Indians he met.
Fargo would hide his money in his saddle and carry some in his boot. This prompted Becky to ask if he used his saddle for a pillow, like in the movies. "Hell no!" Fargo exclaimed, "those damn movie directors don't no shit bout real cowboys. We always carried a feather pillow, blankets and quilts in our bed-roll."
He told us it was never a good idea to ride a horse across a river or stream. If necessary, he would losen or remove the bridle (horses can't breath and swim at the same time.) "Hang on to their tail or long rope and let them swim across. But it's best," he said, "to find a bridge or a shallow crossing." He was never happy when a movie director wanted to "swim" one of his horses or mules.
Two years after his departure from home, he met a lady who convinced him that he should let his folks know he was OK. He let her write a note and mail it back to Montana.

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I just added this listing on Poshmark: Sam Edelman | Jillian Southwest Mule. #poshmark #fashion #shopping #shopmycloset
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