OK, on September 24th Heidi and I played cowboy. We rounded up about 1000 head of stears (that a casterated bull, in case you did not know) and helped drive them 5 miles to their eventual impending doom. A beautiful day, crisp mountain air, the sweet smell of bull s*it and I kept hearing the tape loop music of "the Big Country".
Heidi looked like she belonged there (and probably does), my horse had a mind to try to kill me, which he nearly did, our friend Dave Moore loved the action and helped take these pictures. He looked like he'd been doing it his whole life, which being from Wall Street just isn't the case.
Anyway, it is nice to get down and dirty and do something tangible rather that play with numbers behind a desk all day.
Dad, That's awesome. How did your horse try and "kill" you. I know you don't trust the beasts because they are unpredictble. I remember when I tried to run one in a carral and it decided to make a 90 degree turn all the sudden.
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