Animal Husbandry!

Animal Husbandry!
I was shocked to hear my beloved editor address me in such a manner. I try. I really do try to behave. Even when I’m off, I don’t think I behave like an animal. I didn’t think I was a bad husband either. Shows you.

Today we are on our way from Silverton, small town, big landscape heading towards Pagosa Springs, Colorado. If nothing else, a reader is sure to learn about the towns of the west.

Yesterday I suggested you should ‘buy oil’ because I sold some. Turns out, I was wrong for you. Oil fell. So before leaving Silverton we bought some oil and off we went. The trick is to know when to listen to me, so pay attention.

Now we are on the road going south. There are two mountains to climb that our editor has identified. One is called ‘Purgatory’ the other ‘Goulding Creek’ of the famous San Juan Mountain range. The former gives us pause for thought. However, names don’t intimidate us but we choose the latter. It appears to be a better climb. Statistics are: 7 miles, 2600 feet gain in 2.7 miles and strenuous.

Along this steep trail, I am puzzled because I see clues that make me think about cattle. I ask my editor: “Why do you think they bring cattle up here?’ She is a little puzzled and replies: “What makes you think cows climb this trail?’ ‘Have you noticed those piles of mixed mud and grass you keep trampling on?’ ‘Oh no’, she exclaims. I feel bad that I brought the subject up. After looking at her boots and ankles with disdain, my editor recovers and provides an answer to the puzzle. ‘Animal Husbandry.’ I realize she was not belittling me. She explains that they drive the cattle up the mountain in the spring so they can feed. With great relief, I feel that all is well between us. Phew. Now I wonder why the farmers/cowboys bring the animals up the slopes like this. The cattle must lose so much weight going up and down—I know we do. My editor, filled with knowledge of many things, informs me that this is government property and so it is ‘free range’. This is a fancy way of saying: the cattle eat ‘on the house’. I begin to understand what’s going on in the minds of the cattle farmers. There is so much to learn on the road. Now we are thinking of a new business: Farming rather than jewelry and weight watchers as we thought earlier in the week.

Today, the trail is fairly busy. In a period of four hours, we meet a father and son and in another group, three charming woman. We stop to chat to both and have wonderful conversations. The women are all quite old, somewhere in the range of my editor. I don’t mention the ages as I am learning to be tactful. How am I doing? Anyway, I have an ego problem so we race ahead to see who can reach the summit first. On the way back, we come across the woman folk again. This time we see what a classy bunch they are. They are eating lunch and drinking wine from goblets. We are impressed and I demand of my editor that in future she provides a glass for my diet coke. I refuse to drink from a bottle or can anymore.

We finally reach the summit, which is covered in blankets of yellow flowers. It is calm, serene and quite beautiful. The brooks flow gently and the sound makes one dreamy. It could also be that one is very tired from the climb. We realize this is number six in a row. We are very grateful that Shabbos is approaching. An eclipse of the sun would also be most welcome.

While we are resting and doing some pondering, we begin developing a malady. We are not medical people. In our own way, we diagnose a case of ‘muscularitis’. It seems as if our muscles are rebelling. Why? We don’t know. However, we decide not to take too much notice. It is an internal function for the body to work out for itself. Besides, it’s not our job to micro-manage issues—after all, we are hands-off executives. We instruct the body to keep making steam to drive the engines. Let’s go already. We have to get down this hill to welcome in our ‘beloved bride’ before the sun goes to sleep.