Saturday, January 31, 2009

Hightop


As Dangerous explains it to me, the Colorado Plateau is a huge area including parts of Colorado, New Mexico, Arizona, and Utah. I never know what state we are in, but I can usually tell the difference between red rock canyons and high mountain country. The red rocks offer lots of lizards and rabbits to chase while marmots are plentiful in the high country. Actually, I enjoy the hunt but watch from a distance when Blue and Sadie corner a marmot. Dangerous has told me about the time he pulled a "Rock Chuck" off his dog Abbey's face. I came along right at the end of Abbey's life, and I can tell you first hand that she wasn't afraid of anything on two or four legs. Even in old age, she use to kick my butt regularly.

We don't ride the Hightop every year, but we make the ride often enough that I know the trail pretty well. I understand that in the past Dangerous and his buddies would camp at the trail head because it is 60 miles from the Home Place. They are a lot older now, so they usually get up early and drive over to ride for the day. Those soft beds at the cabin are a lot more comfortable than a night on the hard ground for aging riders.

I like the Hightop because there's lots of water, and as you probably know, Aussies really like to get wet. I get to start the ride with a dip in Lost Creek Reservoir, and there are plenty of wet spots and streams along the way to quench my thirst. The trail also gives me lots of opportunity to sound the alarm when I run into elk and deer. Frequently, I get to set turkeys or blue grouse flying all directions. It's fun for me, and if I time it right, I can flush one right in front of Dottie. You ought to see old Dangerous try to get Dottie under control after a wild turkey flies over her head beating its wings to gain altitude.

Dangerous and his buddies like the wildlife, but I think what really attracts them is the solitude and long views. They tell me that they have never seen anyone while riding the fifteen miles across the top. I don't understand it, but they stop regularly and gaze toward the distant horizon. Since they are riding at over 11,600 feet, they have long views in every direction. On a clear day, they can see Mt. Timpanogos which is about 150 miles away as the crow flies.

Summer comes late to the Hightop. After a good winter, we have to wait until late June or early July to ride the trail. However, as you can see from the pictures, it is beautiful with tall grass and wildflowers. Even in June and July, you take your coat, or I should say Dangerous and his buddies take theirs. I am never without mine. At that altitude, you never know when a storm will roll in, and a summer storm on the Hightop can bring sleet.

There are plenty of places to stop for lunch. As you can see, Utah Jack and Fremont Bob are sitting under a tree taking needed nourishment. Just out of sight me and my dog buddies are cruising about hoping for a treat. Treats are usually rare when you are competing with Utah Jack and Fremont Bob for lunch. They have little problem emptying the saddlebags, but occasionally, they will throw us dogs a scrap or two.

I think the horses and mules even enjoy this ride. In the second picture, you can almost see the contended look on Ernest's face. Ernest the mule appears to be enjoying himself as Fremont Bob steers him through a meadow full of green grass and wildflowers. Like all mules, Ernest isn't interested in the scenery but is thinking great philosophical thoughts and hoping to fill his belly on the tender spring grass.

If you ride this trail oneway, you have to come down the Tasha Trail. While beautiful, it is steep and rocky. When the pictures were taken, Dottie was a young filly with only a few rides on her. She was born and raised in St. George, Utah, and had only seen water in a trough. It was great fun to watch Dangerous get her across some of those stream crossings. Even today, she doesn't like muddy water or black sucking mud. I don't know why. Sheep dogs like nothing better than a muddy roll from head to tail.

Well, I thought you might enjoy learning about one of my favorite trails. I have lots of them that I plan to share with you in the future. As always, I am interested in what you think, so drop me a comment or two.

Monday, January 26, 2009

Grover Boys


I wasn't around when there old friend, Ward Roylance, stuck Utah Jack and Dangerous Doug with the lasting handle "the Grover Boys," but for some reason it has stuck for 22 years. If you ask a High Plateau traveler if they know Utah or Dangerous, they will probably give you a blank stare. But, ask about the "Grover Boys" and you will get directions to their place and usually some strong opinions about their parentage. It is tough to think of these two aging back country wags as boys. As a dog, I am not familiar with "people years," but in dog years both of them are well over 400. Since every day is Saturday in Grover, maybe they are still boys.

I have never understood what draws so many travelers to the "Grover Boy's" cabin porch, but a lot show up regularly. Most come to venture into the wilderness with them, but anyone who visits has to check their ego at the cabin door. The cabin porch is no place for the pretentious or overly ambitious. You can find a complete list of the brave souls who survived an evening by reading all the business cards tacked up in the outhouse.

A more unlikely pair would be hard to find, but the "Grover Boys" have been friends for over 40 years. They are always giving each other unending grief. You would think that the stuff they hurl at each other would end in a fight rather than laughter. I have heard this exchange plenty of times. Utah Jack to Dangerous, "You really expect me to believe your ancestors stepped off the Mayflower at Plymouth Rock." Ole Dangerous replies, "At least they didn't arrive from Sweden on a Greyhound Bus." So goes the many exchanges. Everyone who rides and hikes with them gets the same treatment. Even a fine sheep dog like me catches it sometimes. You've seen my picture, and I am "show quality." At least that's what the breeder told Dangerous when he picked me up in Elko, Nevada. But, how would you like to be regularly called "Rosie-the-Red-Butted sheep dog." I don't have a red butt!

Utah is the builder with a sharp eye for detail. With inept help from his buddy, Utah built a cabin, restored the Roylance cabin, and built a horse barn. He won't let Dangerous touch power tools or hand tools without close supervision. Utah Jack never forgets a previously used camp site, and tells everyone he picks arrow heads out of Dangerous' boot prints. He also never misses a meal, and lives a contented life in the year 1956.

Dangerous organizes the wilderness adventures, feeds vistors, and wrangles the horses. He plans the next adventure before the current one is complete, always wants to know what's over the next ridge, and constantly searches for new adventures. Because of his unending activity and planning, his friends frequently drop the Dangerous label, and call him by his Indian name Ants-in-His-Pants.

Well, that's my independent take on these two characters. Maybe family, friends, past porch visitors, or others have something to add. Don't hold back! They better be able to take it after all they dish out. You might start by trying to figure out from the pictures who is who. Look forward to hearing from you.

Friday, January 23, 2009

Quiet Landscape


By now, you know I spend a lot of time tagging Dangerous and his buddies around. On the trail, I get to listen to all their conversations. They blame me, Blue, and Sadie for not seeing more elk and other wildlife. But, I know it's really the constant "yakking" back and forth among the horse riders that scares the wildlife. In the evenings, I have my favorite places where I lie listening to them retell the days adventures or old stories. Probably my favorite spot is under the kitchen table. Very few visitors ever chase me away when I beg for treats. Who can resist a warm head placed in their lap? One of my favorite visitors, Larry, once told me that I am a dog "who can't hold her licker."

As you probably know, Aussies are right up there on the canine intelligence scale. So, you shouldn't be surprised when I tell you that I regularly cogitate about the evening conversations. I am not much for politics or religion which are regular porch topics. Frequently, I get lost when they talk about women, girl friends, wives, and love. It might be because I am a spayed female even though Blue sometimes forgets. Fremont Bob's reported UFO sightings sometimes catch me a bit off guard. But, I guess the thing that I wonder most about is what draws this group of diverse characters together. After lots of thought, I think I have it figured out.

I found the answer while trotting behind Dottie and Little Guy. Every so often, Dangerous will pull Dottie to a stop along side Little Guy. He makes us wait while he gazes off at the horizon pointing out to Utah Jack some feature of the landscape that has captured his attention. The same thing happens some evenings after dinner, and we all congregate on the porch. Utah Jack will stand up and wander down the driveway. He usually calls to the rest of us to come and see. Sure enough, the sky will be lit up with a great sunset, and Utah wants to share it with the rest of us and take a picture. By now, he must have a thousand sunset pictures, but never seems to tire of them.

After lots of watching and thinking, I think I know what brings this group of characters together. Without the High Plateau and its quiet landscapes, they probably would have never met. They may not be quiet themselves, but their friendships are some how tied together by what they seek and see. The High Plateau and its surrounding deserts brought them together and has made them lasting friends.

Well, that's the way I see it anyway. But, who am I to know for sure. I might be an intelligent sheep dog, but you are welcome to correct me if you think I am wrong. Love to hear from you!

Sunday, January 18, 2009

Pick the Dude


I know I have told everyone that I don't have a favorite book. Well, that's not the complete truth. On some cold nights, Ole Dangerous or his wife will read me my favorite Where's Waldo. You remember how it goes. You get to look through lots of confusing pictures trying to pick out Waldo. Sometimes, after riding the High Plateau all day, we gather on the porch and play our own version -- Pick the Dude. I thought you might enjoy taking a turn at the game we enjoy so much. In addition to the pictures, I will give you a few hints. Don't be taken in by the costumes. As I have explained earlier, you can be confused by style and fashion. I won't give you the names of horses or riders either even though you may recognize them from past postings.

Let's start with the guy riding the dark buckskin -- top picture, left rider. This guy is wearing a hat too large given to him by a friend. He is also wearing $400 Wilson boots custom made in Livingston, Montana. His horse has fallen on him, taken him off on trees, but never bucked him off. After spending too much time in the saddle, his right hip hurts, but so far hasn't required surgery.

The "cowboy" sitting the sorrel horse in the middle has the complete outfit -- hat, chaps, boots, and spurs. The whole ball of wax. One of his riding buddies frequently tells him that he dresses like a "pall bearer at a rodeo clown's funeral." He rarely whines after a long ride, but will complain if there isn't an extra sandwich for lunch. I have seen him land hard on the ground after his horse jumped out from under him. It can happen even to the best "cowboy" especially when you are getting along in years and packing a few extra pounds.

Don't mistake the guy riding the spotted pony as a construction worker. He might look like a redneck contractor, but he rides regularly, refusing to wear the regulation outfit. He buys his tee shirts and jeans at Kmart, and someone usually gives him the ball cap free. Sometimes we call him our "reluctant cowboy," but he goes because one of the other guys provides him a horse. He owns his own saddle, but it is too big for the pony. The horse is too small and he is too big, but he usually stays on unless his cinch isn't tight which usually results in a 180 degree spin to the ground. After the laughter subsides, we check to see if he's hurt while he's climbing back on.

The guy riding the paint has the best hat and boots money can buy. The hat is from Burn's Saddlery, and he wears expensive Wilson boots. The aviator dark glasses don't fit the cowboy look, but he thinks they are California cool. Unlike the first guy, the hat fits, but the boots are 14 AAAs. The borrowed horse packs him nicely where ever we wander, but occasionally, we have to stop a let me dismount. He's a good sport about riding with us, but occasionally "a little snot bubble" is seen coming from his nose if we ride too far or too long.

Well, by now, you have probably guessed who the dude is. If you could only ask the horses, they would tell you in a second. However, you can't ask even though the gray can talk, so study the pictures and descriptions carefully and pick-the-dude. If you want, let me know your pick.

Saturday, January 17, 2009

More About Me


I know you won't believe this, but the other day Ole Dangerous got a call, and someone asked for a better picture of me. They also asked to learn more about my interests and other stuff. Well, I don't want to get too personal, but you have to respond to your fans.

I got to pick the picture, but Dangerous insisted that I include him. So you aren't confused, I am the good looking red head. Dangerous is the portly, old guy propped up against the wall. When you are his age, you never stand when you can sit and never sit when you can lay. A second after the picture was taken he was flat on his back lying in the rocks.

You can tell from my picture that I am a herding dog. Since Dangerous won't keep sheep, I am stuck with herding whatever is available. It doesn't matter to me if they are two legged or four legged critters; I just like to herd. When we hike, I run back and forth from the front of the strung out hikers to the back. I like to be up front, but I do my best keeping the herd together because you never know when one of them will get lost.

Herding horses is my real specialty. You ought to see Dottie and Little Guy when I encourage them into the horse trailer. Without my help, I am sure Ole Dangerous would never get them loaded. It is even more fun when he unloads them. I stand just out-of-sight waiting for that first hoof to hit the ground. As soon as I see it, I let loose with lots of darting and barking. If I am lucky, I can get Dottie or LG to step on Ole DD's bad toe. That's when the real fun begins. He howls in pain and cusses a lot. While loading and unloading is fun, I really excel when Dangerous is trying to mount up. At his age, its a real treat to catch him half way into his saddle. He doesn't bend like he use to and getting his right leg over the saddle bags really leaves him vulnerable. If I time it right, he may go all the way over or at least bounce along with one foot in the stirrup and the other on the ground like a pogo stick. It is great fun, but you have to have a high tolerance for name calling and extreme profanity.

Well, there's lots of other stuff I enjoy, but I guess you will have to follow along to learn more. In the future, I will share other interesting stuff about the crazy cast of characters -- two legged and four legged -- that I spend time with Riding the High Plateau.

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Avoiding Collisions

I have only been tagging Ole Dangerous around about five years. So, I have to believe him when he tells me that back country traffic has increased. Supposedly, 30 years ago he wandered the Escalante River and rarely saw another rider or hiker. He tells me that he was pushed off the Uinta National Forest by ATVs and bikes. According to him, you can hear an ATV coming, but you don't want to meet a biker coming down a steep grade looking at his front tire with his ear phones plugged in. I have been there when he's explained to mountain bikers that having an 1,100 lb. horse land on them doesn't usually end well. I don't help a lot, but who can blame a sheep dog for joining in the action. Barking at fast moving ATVs and bikes is fun, and when you throw in a lunging, bucking horse it's even more exciting. Horse and rider usually survive, but the bike and rider don't. Most mountain bikers ignore Dangerous' appeals and pedal on after plugging their ear phones back in. Fortunately, the High Plateau has lots of steep, rocky trails that discourage potential conflict with wheeled travelers.

I am not sure what the answer is, but Ole Dangerous can't retreat much further. The High Plateau is probably his last stand. Dangerous tells me that he frequently hears conflicting groups say, "...can't we all just get along." I am not sure that's possible. Maybe those who pursue the quiet sports like biking, hiking, and horse riding can work something out, but it will require improved communications and trail manners. It's really hard to explain to someone on an ATV or motorcycle that you don't want to eat their dust or listen to their noise. You especially don't want to look at the four foot wide swaths cut across the landscape that they call "trails." If you have some answers, let me know. I might be able to calm Ole Dangerous down, and pass your suggestions along to others.

Sunday, January 11, 2009

High Plateau Fashions





I guess I am lucky. Ole' Dangerous pays to have my hair done twice a year to get rid of the burrs and dingle berries. However, these trips to the groomer don't include a change of duds. Traveling the High Plateau, I see all kinds of outfits. These fashion statements usually tell you a lot about the person and their interests. Hikers are usually decked out in REI's finest with shorts or long pants that become shorts with the pull of a zipper. Mountain bikers have those cute spandex outfits with padded butts. Not bad on girls, but the men look silly. ATV riders usually sport Cabella's latest camouflage which really does little to hide their noisy machines. My buddies can come up with some of the strangest outfits seen on the High Plateau. Utah Jack has tried the redneck look with sign and bath tub to attract women. Fremont Bob occasionally wears wolf man headgear to become part of the pack. And, probably the worst is Ole Dangerous himself trying to pass as a cowboy. As you can see, the hat is too big and his neck is too short. All of you should follow my lead and head to the groomer twice a year to get the burrs and dingle berries removed and forget those fashion statements.

Friday, January 9, 2009

Boots and Paws


Ole Dangerous and I don't spend all our time riding horses. Well, he rides, and I trot along behind. Even at his advanced years, he still occasionally puts on his outdated backpack, and loads me up with extra water and dog food. As you can tell we aren't REI fashion slaves. Dangerous wears his usual redneck outfit -- blue jeans and ball cap. I am stuck with the same outfit where ever we go. We do get some interesting looks from current generation backpackers. Ole Dangerous' hearing isn't so good, but I can hear those young upstarts asking each other how that old guy with the external frame pack and Russian Olive hiking stick got so far into the back country. If I could, I would explain that it isn't age and equipment that gets you in and out of the wilderness. You have to want to be there. From what I understand, the deaf old boy I hike with has been doing it for over 30 years. And, I suspect that you can tell from the picture why he continues plodding along. Here's to 30 more years.

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

Sadie and Blue

You might think my only friends are horses and men. Actually, I get to hang out with two interesting canines. After tagging them for a week, Ole' Dangerous usually enrolls me in obedience school.

Sadie and Blue, I think you can figure out who is who from the picture, are well known across the entire High Plateau. As you can see, they will eat about anything. They are discussing who gets the best antelope hide tidbits. You never know what they will find. When they aren't scavenging for tasty morsels, they are usually tracking four legged creatures. Fortunately, they have never caught anything, but lack of success hasn't stopped them from trying. A refined Aussie like myself can learn a lot from these back country travelers. I learned real fast not to get between Blue and anything that resembles food. If you think these two are interesting, wait till I introduce you to the guy they hang out with -- Fremont Bob.

Monday, January 5, 2009

An Actual Trail

In my opinion, a lot of confusion exists about trail designations on public lands. More and more trails are being converted to roads for motorized use. Sometimes the conversion occurs through legal processes, but more frequently, trails become roads through illegal off-road use. Since public land manager have few if any resources for enforcement, the conversion continues at an ever increasing pace. The public is generally unaware because most people don't travel very far from the pavement and into the back country. If they followed along with me and my buddies, they could see first hand the changes that are happening. Maybe they wouldn't be taken in when someone talks about developing more "trails" for public use if they saw for themselves. Horse riders and hikers are finding fewer and fewer places to ride and hike in peace and quiet.

Without places for horsemen and hikers, conflict with motorized users is inevitable. I have had a front row seat on a bunch of occasions when Ole' Dangerous Doug and his buddies have met ATV riders who don't know much about trail etiquette. A while back, Dangerous forgot to let me out of my pen in the back of his truck. He started back and met an ATV rider coming up the "trail." As I mentioned, Dottie, his Walking Horse mare has a tendency to spin when spooked. Well, I got to watch Dottie spin backwards around the ATV and its rider while Ole' Dangerous shouted in some very colorful language for the ATV rider to shut off his machine. By the time he turned it off, Dottie was sitting on his handle bars. Dangerous maintained his seat, and the ATV rider had eyes as big as saucers.

Let's do what we can to keep the few trails left from being converted to roads, and work with motorized users to understand that a 1,100 pound horse has a mind of its own.

Friday, January 2, 2009

Working Sheep Dog


You might think that all I do is bum around with my buddy Dangerous Doug (DD) while he rides and hikes. Talk to his wife, and she will tell you that's about all we do. However, once in a while we are pressed into work. Ole' Dangerous swaps animal tending duties with his long time riding buddy Kent. Since there are sheep involved, I sometimes get to help. Unfortunately, DD is a better wanderer than herder as the following letter explains. Kent now calls on me when he needs someone to watch his sheep.

October 13, 2006

Kent,

Since I won't be around to greet you and Diane, I thought I should leave a report -- a farm stewardship report. As you probably already know, I have been accused of poor farm management.

It has been reported that I killed Les's sheep. Well, that's the way Les is telling the story, but I thought he was a pretty sorry sheep the day we picked him up. You might have been facing a Hawaiian earth quake, but I had to bury a 200 pound sheep. The Miller's and your other neighbors were grateful that the weather was cold and that I had a shovel. However, they weren't interested in helping with Jack's funeral. Jack is the name I gave the buck. I thought Jack was an appropriate name for an old buck turned out with a bunch of young ewes. Your neighbor was going to play golf. I asked him to hang around to dedicate the grave, but he thought I was trying to con him into shovel work. I tried your kids without success. Eric told me to bury him where he fell, and that's what I did. Jenny called after I had already planted him and offered to help. I thought about calling Paul, but I didn't have his number in Finland. Since the other two are military officers, I knew they wouldn't know how to use a shovel. I know how kids are. As you know I have two.

Burying the sheep wasn't as bad as breaking the news to Less. He was heart broken over the loss and agreed to help me with the funeral arrangements. By the way, he mentioned something about the sheep costing $1,500 at the auction, but I thought I would let you work that out with him. Les arrived about the time I had the grave dug. He will probably want credit for our work, but it was me that insisted that Jack's life earned him something more than a shallow hole. Les figured the hole was deep enough, but I didn't want Jack's pointy feet sticking out of the ground through the eternities. Les suggested that we cut off his legs to save digging, but out of respect for the dead I insisted on a deeper hole. I will admit that I made the mistake of putting him into the ground with his head facing west. I take full responsibility for him wandering around confused on the morning of the first resurrection even though Les is a former Bishop and should have caught my mistake.

Don't be confused by the buck wandering your pasture. No matter what people say the dead don't come back to life. Les felt so badly for your ewes that he found you another buck. I call this one Doug because he jumped directly into action when we unloaded him from my horse trailer. Be careful with this one. He belongs to a rich guy in Alpine, and wants Doug back alive. If this one dies, you might have to move permanently to Hawaii.

I have to own up to another farming indiscretion. You had a raccoon in your live trap, and guess what? I let him go. I didn't have the heart to shoot him, and I didn't want to watch him die of thrist, so he got a second chance. I know! I don't have the intellect or skills to be a farmer. I don't even think I could herd sheep if I owned a smart dog. (I heard that, Rosie)

The last I looked Hawk was still alive. If he had died, I don't think the Gunthers would have let me bury him where he fell. If i had killed him too, I thought about hooking a chain around him and towing him to Hansen's place. As alert as Hansen is, he probably wouldn't have noticed until the Gunthers, Taylors, or Greenwoods caught a deep whiff of decomposition.

Well I am glad that you made it back safe. When I return from Grover, I will want to hear all about your Hawaii trip. How did the cutoff Levis work on the beach? Did your temple garments hanging out the legs give you away as a lapsed Mormon?

Talk with you Saturday,

Doug

Thursday, January 1, 2009

Vistors

Visitors join us from all over the world. One of the better educated traveled all the way from Jackson, Mississippi to sit a horse, receive unending abuse, and write some cowboy poetry. It isn't often that anyone leaves more than their business card in the outhouse let alone a cowboy poem about their experience. Mississippi Max isn't a bad rider and is pretty good porch company. He held his own with the best and worst of the bunch who spends time riding and hiking with me and my buddies. He even mentions me in his tribute to Riding the High Plateau.

Grover Boys

This is the tale of Dangerous Doug and his sidekick Utah Jack
Who ride the Boulder Mountain trails with horses and with pack
They're real outlaws, make no mistake, they ride their saddles tall
Though Utah rides an Appy horse that seems a little small
But that's beside the point, I guess, cause Doug he rides a mare
That spins him at the strangest times and leaves him in the air

Ole Utah says the Appy is Arabian by birth
"He's just incognito," straight face, no sign of mirth
"That short neck is his disguise, those spots are painted on
We've cut four inches from his hooves, tail plucked until its gone
Those broad hips are padded, and we've shortened up his back
But he's full Arabian, and that's a natural fact!"

Doug's classy little walking mare, what stories she could tell
About Doug's way with horses and the things he does so well
But then she takes him for a spin and flings him to the ground
A rich string of expletives, can be heard for miles around
Truth be known I think she spins just to hear him cuss
Why else would she be so sweet and then make such a fuss?

They have a little cabin, hidden in the pinon pines
Where neighbors are all welcome, though there are some "Keep Out" signs
There's Fremont River Bob and his young mule Hemingway
And Mike who runs the foundry, pouring molds for those who'll pay
There's Ole Ross the Wrangler and his wife Mindy too
And son Kyle whose hats are large for a little buckaroo

These citizens of Grover with smiles upon each face
Know there'll be some tall tales told when they open up the place
Dangerous Doug and Utah Jack, they come to ride each peak
But that's not all that Dixie's for, that's not all that they seek
They also like the company of good folks tried and true
Who'll let them just be outlaws and cook a good camp stew

Now this is not to say that they don't ride the range
They'll ride 'till you get "monkey butt" and give you back some change
They ride among the Aspen and by the alpine lake
Through the grassy meadows, whatever it may take
Up the rocky mountainside,through Juniper and pine
Along the sparkling mountain stream, their horses beating time

But be careful when you're asked to ride across a recent burn
Or you'll be cutting dead fall, they'll gladly give a turn
They're loathe to stop and turn around before they reach the top
So get your sawing arm in shape before you make this stop
The sawing is really not so bad, if you take it all in stride
But needing oxygen at altitude is something you can't hide

They ride Aquarius plateau, the antelope to chase
They ride to see Dark Valley at a gentle, easy pace
With Rose and Blue and Sadie, faithful friends to run ahead
There are miles to go and things to see before its time for bed
But the miles go all too quickly and the ride is over soon
So they sit up on the porch and gaze upon the moon

If you're ever down in Grover and you feel a bit laid back
Just look up Ole Dangerous and his friend Utah Jack
Chances are they're getting saddles and grooming up their mounts
And living life quite large and isn't that what counts?
You may be asked to come along as they set out on the trail
There's just one rule "No Whining," if you get the monkey tail!

Max Arinder
June 15-June 21, 200
Riding Trip, Grover, UT