Tag: stampede

He Rode Tall

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They knew that what was in the pen was
really just a baby. Even Roy seemed to calm down his calling as
much as was possible. The bid, and there was four people still in
the chase, was at 15,000 dollars before Roy even handed the
microphone to Dr. Morgan. The good doctor was running out of
new words to offer on the horses, but as he told the crowd, “If you
don’t see the future in this one, if you don’t know what it means
to own a grandson of Topsail Cody on the top side and a grandson
of Doc Bar on the bottom side, then you should just get in
your truck and leave right now.” Nobody left.
When the microphone went back to Roy, he quickly took the
bidders to 25,000 dollars. For a weanling! Now, there were only
two bidders. Joel had heard someone behind him say that they
were both trainers and top-notch reiners; one from Texas and the
other from Colorado. Finally, at 32,000 dollars, the Texan waved
his hand and walked away from the ring. Joel was in heaven.
In quick succession, the remainder of the horses sold for
15,000, 12,000, 19,000, 17,000, and 21,000 dollars. In addition
to the 100,000 dollars he had picked up from the ten
three-year-olds, he also just sold six unbroken horses for another
100,000, plus change. It was a 200,000-dollar day. Not bad for a
sale with only sixteen horses. He tried to figure out the average
selling price of a horse, but with all of the excitement it was
beyond his mental comprehension, and besides, who cared!
As Roy thanked the crowd for attending, Cindy, with little Lila
in tow, appeared from the crowd and gave Joel a big hug. “Say
something,” she urged him “It’s your sale.”
Joel proudly strode across the pen to where Roy stood and took
the microphone. “Well,” he said, “I don’t really know what to
say. I would just like to thank everyone for traveling way out here
for our sale. I sure do appreciate the investment that you have
made in our horses. If you need any help, if you didn’t plan on
buying, or didn’t bring a trailer, we sure wouldn’t mind keeping
an eye on them for another day or two ’til you get home and get a
chance to return with your own trailer.”

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He Rode Tall

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Raising the Winchester 30-30 to his shoulder, he took aim at
the cat. Just as the crazed cougar moved forward, stalking the
unsuspecting filly isolated at the edge of the herd less than
twenty yards away, Joel took his shot. Crack! The dog yelled, the
horses scattered, and the cat’s body dropped to the ground. Without
waiting to see if a second shot was necessary, Joel flew out of
the house and raced to the tree line where he had last seen the
cat. Harry and Tanya chased after him. Then he saw it. The big
cat was dead. One shot through the head. His horses were safe.
But in a way Joel felt sorry for this poor wild beast that was so ill
that it had to risk its life to stalk his horses.
Harry pulled the cat out of the grass by the tail so they could
get a better look. Over six feet in length, the cougar was an older
male with his ribs pathetically showing, it would not have made
it through another cold winter in the hills. Joel had done himself,
his horses, his neighbors, and the cat a favor by putting it out of
its misery.
That night he called Cindy to report the day’s activities. The
two of them had started talking with each other late at night,
which gave Cindy time to spend with Lila after dinner. Joel knew
that Lila would always be number one in Cindy’s life. He liked
that in a woman. Over the years, he had met women who were
willing to leave their children, some emotionally, some physically,
to be with a man, and he knew that was wrong. No matter
where his relationship with Cindy went, he knew that, at best, he
would be number two in her life. And that was a good thing.

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He Rode Tall

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“I am sorry to hear that. I was hoping that they would see it the
other way—that having Circle H horses at their sale would draw
even more buyers. And the right kind of buyers.”
“Afraid not. Guess that takes us to Plan B.”
“Plan B?” Joel asked.
“Exactly. The way that I see it, you really don’t have any option
but run your own sale. The Ramage Ranch Sale is the last Saturday
in September—has been going forever. Brings in big crowds
from all over. Let’s do your sale on the Sunday right after. That
way, people are here already and may want to stay for your sale.”
“Would that work, Roy? Aren’t you concerned about upsetting
the folks at the Ramage Ranch by working with me the day after
their sale?”
“As it happens, the Ramage people aren’t a client. Used to be.
They bring in a crew from Denver to manage their sale now. It
really hurt when they dropped us. Had been good clients for
years, or so I thought.”
“I guess that would work. But who would want to stay over and
go to your auction yard for only . . .”
“Hang on right there, cowboy. I learned a long time ago that
there is only one place for a ranch horse sale. And that is on the
ranch.”
“Okay, I guess that makes sense, but who would want to come
all of the way out here for only a dozen horses? Hardly seems
worth it.”
“Need to talk about that too: how do you feel about putting a
few of your weanlings, yearlings, and two-year-olds in the sale?”
“Well, I guess I could. But I need that young stock for future
years.”
“The way I see it, if we put a small offering of your younger
horses in the auction in addition to the three-year-olds, you
would really increase the appeal. Young stock might be what
some folks need to stay one more day and attend your sale.”
“Let me think about it, Roy. It sounds like I need my own sale,
but I don’t know if I want to sell any of the younger horses.

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He Rode Tall

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Sure, he had been gone for many years and there was no doubt
that the Circle H held some harsh memories for him. At the
same time, there was no doubt about it: for him, Joel Hooper, the
Circle H was home. And if there was any doubt in his mind, it
seemed as if nature was reassuring him that he was home with a
magnificent display of a spectacular sunset awash in all kinds of
tones of baby blue and soft pastel pinks. This truly was the legendary
land of the living skies. Alive with all kinds of colors. The
kinds of colors that were capable of temporarily extinguishing
even the gravest worries from one’s mind.
Two days after his trip into Willow Springs for the mail, he was
back up in the hills, sitting on the big buckskin gelding surveying
what must be close to fifty head of Smith’s cattle helping themselves
to his grass. This time he could see where the fence was
down. The cattle had torn the fence down to get at the richer
grass in his pasture. Poor creatures, Joel thought. They must be
half-starved with the slim pickings they have in their own pasture.
With all of the land that Smith has, he must have some
better pasture to move these cattle to. What was he waiting for?
For their ribs to show? Heck, some of them were at that stage
already.
Joel would be the first to admit that he did not know much
about cows, but he did know enough to realize that this was a sad
and sorry lot of cattle.
Realizing that this was going to be more of a major production
than his earlier experience that involved only three heifers, Joel
rode the buckskin back to the ranch and solicited the help of
Harry and Tanya. Harry headed up to the pasture in the old
truck, which he had stocked with a few fence posts, a bale of
barbed wire, and all of the fencing equipment, including a wire
stretcher and post-hole auger. Tanya was just about to finish
working with her last horse of the day, a little bay mare, so she
rode her up to the hills alongside Joel on the buckskin. On the
way to the fence, Joel and Tanya started to round up the intruders,
and in the distance, Harry was busily repairing the fence.

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He Rode Tall

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Maybe, thought Joel. But, on the other hand, what price can you
put on a palomino filly that allowed a young girl to find herself?
“Sorry, Mr. Schwartz. I appreciate your offer, but the filly is no
longer for sale.”
Joel quickly jogged the buckskin to catch up with Tanya, who
was way ahead of him by now. When they got back to the barn
they gave each other big hugs and lots of words of celebration,
telling each other how well they had done. Their section of the
barn, which until now was a very quiet and practically abandoned
aisle with no other horses and no traffic, all of a sudden filled
with lots of people to congratulate Joel and Tanya and take a look
at the horses.
And that was just the start. With Friday being just the first of
the three-day show, Tanya and Joel continued their success.
Tanya took first-place on both Saturday and Sunday to sweep the
show. And Joel came in as the runner-up both days.
After the show was over, Joel could tell that he had witnessed
something special. This really wasn’t the end of a show for his
young partner, but the start of her career. With her momentum,
he wondered how far she could go.
It was late on Sunday when they loaded up and pulled out of
the show grounds. Joel guided the old truck and the trailer out of
Great Falls and then they realized that they hadn’t eaten since
noon; they were both running on adrenaline. It would be a few
hours before they would even be home for a midnight snack, so
they decided to stop at the diner at the last gas station on the edge
of the city. Even though it was late, the kitchen was still open and
there was one waitress on duty. Joel’s finances were tight and he
had to figure out his next move soon, but for now, they both
deserved a decent celebratory meal.
Over dinner, Tanya said, “You know, I’ve been meaning to ask
you: as you came out of the ring on the first day of the show, what
was that conversation that you had with Mary Lou’s husband?”
“Oh, nothing really,” replied Joel.
“Come on now. You can’t do that. What did he say to you?”

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He Rode Tall

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He needed to dismantle the walls that kept others out. He
needed to use words to heal rather than hurt. If he was able to
accomplish these three objectives the new Joel Hooper would
appear, he thought; or, maybe the real Joel Hooper would surface
for the first time. Whatever it was, it would be quite a
transformation.
After a light lunch and some very thorough horse grooming,
Tanya and Joel saddled up their mounts and led them to the
warm-up arena. Over the last few months, Joel had been
reminded that saddling up was much more than simply throwing
a saddle on the back of the horse. First, Joel brushed the buckskin.
For the show, Tanya had told him to pay special attention
to brushing the gorgeous black mane and tail of the buckskin
gelding. Then, he placed a riding pad on the horse’s backs, and
over that, a show blanket. It was only then that the saddle was
placed on the horse’s back. Next came the boots, not Joel’s but
the horse’s. First, Joel placed the bell boots on the front feet of the
horse to protect the coronary band, just above the hoof. Then he
added the splint boots above each of the bell boots. Splints boots
were intended to protect the area between the knee and the
ankle. Moving to the rear of the gelding, Joel fastened the skid
boots to protect the horse’s fetlocks from burning as they come in
contact with the ground during the sliding stops. It was only once
that the pads, blankets, boots, and saddles were in place that Joel
loosened the halter and gently positioned the bit in the buckskin’s
mouth and quietly moved the bridle into position.
Joel had been wearing his spurs for most of the morning. He
had come to love the sound of the rowels jingling as he walked.
Despite his early years on the ranch, Joel had adopted an urban
attitude toward spurs, seeing them as something that was harsh
and unnecessary. It was once he had returned to the ranch and
worked the horses with Harry that he quickly came around to the
reality that spurs weren’t the weapons as others had seen them.
Rather than weapons, the spurs were tools, and the last thing he
would want to do was aggressively spur a horse.

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He Rode Tall

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Excerpt

stands that were crowded with all kinds of people visiting and
catching-up with each other since the last show. At the canteen,
Joel ordered a large coffee and then found an empty table at the
edge of the eating area to sit at and ponder his dilemma. He sure
didn’t want to sell to that no-good Buck Smith, but maybe that’s
what it would have to come down to. Joel thought that he should
have talked to Tanya sooner about the money problems, but it was
his pride that held it tight inside him. It wasn’t fair to her the way
she found out. She had done an exceptional job training the pretty
little palomino and he knew that she had high hopes for the filly.
There had to be something he could do to fix the situation.
“Joel.” It was Tanya, and her tears had been replaced with a
fresh smile. “I want you to meet my friends Morgan, Jesse, and
Sue Ellen. We are going to head into town and catch a movie or
something. Want to come along?”
Joel was relieved to see that Tanya had recovered so quickly.
She was obviously pleased to have connected with old friends
from the rodeo circuit.
“Well, do you want to come?” Tanya repeated.
“Oh no, you kids go. I want to hang around and make sure that
the horses are all bedded down for the night. But hey, have fun.”
Tanya and her friends hurried out of the arena. Joel couldn’t
help but think what a special person Tanya has become. His feelings
were nothing romantic—now, don’t get silly. She was just a
real good friend who happened to be female and nineteen years
old. Oh yeah, she was one heck of a horsewoman.
They had only been friends for a couple months, but now,
their first meeting seemed so long ago. He still remembered
when she had asked him on her first visit to the ranch, “Are these
horses just pretty, or do they ride too?” He was sure he would
never forget that. Harry and he had been proud of the good
schooling they were giving the three-year-olds, but that afternoon
when he first saw Tanya ride one, then another, and finally a
third horse, he recognized that she was taking them beyond
where he could even dream of, into another dimension.

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He Rode Tall

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was down to his last seventy-five dollars. And if they were going to
be able to buy gas to get back home, he had to be very careful with
the little bit of cash that he did have.
Joel and Tanya had just finished tidying up their supplies
adjacent to the stalls and were giving the horses one last look
when an attractive, middle-aged woman dressed in fancy western
wear approached them. From her looks, Joel guessed that
she had never cleaned a stall in her life. He only wished that he
could say the same for himself—in the last few months he had
done enough stall cleaning to last a lifetime. Helping Harry
change the bedding in the stalls was more of a workout than
what city people would get at high-priced health clubs. “That’s
it,” Joel thought. With a chuckle he told himself that if the
horse business didn’t work out he could always convert the
Circle H into a health and fitness center. One thing was certain,
Joel was in the best physical condition that he had been in
for years.
“You the owner?” the lady asked.
“I am,” Joel replied.
“Mary Lou Schwartz. Is the palomino for sale?”
Joel looked at Tanya and, as he saw the word “No” forming on
her lips, stepped up and replied, “Well now, I guess everything is
really for sale at the right price isn’t it?”
The shock showed on Tanya’s face. As she started to protest,
Joel continued, “What did you have in mind?”
“I was looking for a young reining horse that could eventually
join our broodmare band. This little girl might fit the bill. She’s
nicely put together and seems real sweet and gentle. How does
5,000 dollars sound?”
“Too low” is what Joel thought, but he bit his tongue, knowing
that the offer was just a starting point. He asked, “Would you like
to see her papers?”
“Sure. You are probably going to tell me that she is some kind
of a great-great granddaughter of a Doc Bar or something like
that, aren’t you?”

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He Rode Tall

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He’s probably just starting out, Joel thought. He guessed that
the doctor was a city person who was using the small community
to get started in the profession, with the intentions of moving to a
bigger city when he had more experience and had paid off some of
his debts from school.
After a brief explanation of the accident he had in the pasture
with the big buckskin, the doctor told him to take off his boot, his
sock, and roll up the leg of his Wranglers. As he leaned forward to
get a closer look, the young doctor asked, “Related to Edward
Hooper?”
“Yes I am. He was my father.”
“Thought so,” the doctor replied as he continued to poke and
prod at the ankle. Joel wasn’t sure if the young doctor was really
examining him or just buying time to think of what to say next.
“Well, Mr. Hooper, it looks like your ankle is on the way to a full
recovery. From what I can tell, nothing is broken. A few more
days and you should be back in the saddle again. How’s the
pain?”
Joel was surprised to hear himself replying, “Not bad.” In fact,
his ankle was hurting like hell.
The doctor, having treated his share of cowboys in his short
career since graduating from medical school, quickly translated
“not bad” to mean “it is hurting like heck, but I’ll be darned if I
admit it to you,” and offered Joel a sample box of Tylenol 3s, “just
in case it hurts you might want to take a few of these.”
With that, the doctor turned to the door, “Have a good day,
Mr. Hooper.”
“Thank you, Doctor. How did you know my father?”
“Mr. Hooper, you might not be aware of it, but not only have
you just been attended to by a doctor but also by the Montana
State Team Roping Champion. Two years in a row now since
coming back home from medical school in Seattle. When I was a
kid here, I did pretty fair at the high school rodeos as well. I roped
off a horse your dad sold me. Even back when I was a kid, my
father always said that there was only one place to go …

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He Rode Tall

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brush not ten feet beside him. In an instant, he realized that,
with the wind blowing away from them, the deer didn’t hear or
smell the horse and rider headed their direction. No sooner had
the deer fled in a scurry of dirt and brush than the buckskin
jumped, nearly out of his skin. One moment Joel was sitting solidly
on the back of the buckskin and the next they were both ten
feet to the right, with Joel experiencing a launch akin to take-off
on a NASA space mission.
With a power that he could hardly imagine possible, the young
horse had rocketed forward, leaving Joel behind. In actual fact, it
would have been better if he did get left behind, but Joel’s left boot
stuck in the stirrup. And with the force of the jump, his boot had
slipped through the stirrup. Now he was being dragged at breakneck
speed across the rock-strewn hillside. His foot was supposed
to slip out of the boot and free him from danger but what
was supposed to happen just didn’t.
Spooked by the deer, the buckskin gelding blasted up and out
of the coulee, racing to the barn. Joel knew that this couldn’t last
for long. There were just too many boulders between there and
the barn, and the odds that he would hit at least one were pretty
good unless he did something in a hurry as he bounced along on
his back, dragged by the horse and only inches from the pounding
hooves. In a flash, Joel imagined his exposed cranium hitting a
granite boulder at twenty-five miles per hour. With one cry he
asked, pleaded, begged, and commanded the horse to stop with a
desperate “Whoa!”
As a boy, his dad had told Joel that anyone could stop a horse,
sooner or later, by pulling back on the reins, but his dad showed
him an unusual technique—dropping the reins to the horse’s
neck and asking it to whoa. Right here, right now, he was glad
that he had worked so hard with the gelding on exactly this
maneuver. But practicing in the round pen and the arena was one
thing; Joel was about to discover how effective his training would
be in the wide-open space of the pasture.

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