The Ranch Hand
Posted on: March 11, 2008?> Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
The smell of a ranch is something I have always loved. The grass and horses, the fresh scent of the creek that inevitably runs through the land are things that have lived inside me since childhood, having grown up in a mountain valley. The crisp aroma of freshly fallen snow and the abundant smells of the flora are memories I had missed for a long time living in a congested city.Having an extended vacation from work, I decided I needed my fix of the country life, so I rented a cabin in the mountains near where I grew up and decided to stay there to rekindle my sense of peace that I consistently had in that environment. The place I stayed was a working ranch and campground. The small wooden dwellings, with rough-hewn wood and stone smokestacks were high on the mountainside. Everyday, the wife of the rancher would have a family style breakfast in the long house for everyone staying at the site. After the hearty meal of pancakes, bacon and eggs, hash browns and biscuits and gravy, we could choose to work the ranch with the cowhands. I needed to get my hands dirty. I normally worked in a white-collar position that left little time even for gardening, let alone working a ranch. The gym was fine for exercise, but it was the fresh air and sweat from an honest day's work that I needed.After the first few days of simply relaxing, I decided it was time to get ...
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