Oklahoma. She’s been a snowbird for the past few years. This time she was heading back to Alaska, hauling her own horse and another that now belongs to the Spangler family – Tom, the husband, is a colleague of Pete’s. Small world. I went over and took a look at the horse. He seemed a bit disgruntled. We finally all parted company and took off in opposite directions.
When, finally, we got to Fort Nelson, the very kind person behind the desk at the visitor center told us that there was both an equestrian center and a rodeo ground on 76th street. Because we were having a hard time finding the place, we stopped and went to ask at what I called a Mancave Office, another one of those metal shed like buildings with big equipment out front. A woman with plucked eyebrows that were penciled in asked the guys hanging out in gray jumpsuits where the rodeo grounds were and they all conferred and gave us confusing directions. We pretended to understand what they were saying and headed out.
The rodeo grounds was located a few streets from the Mancave Office. The place appeared to be very clean, and there were several pens on hand and an arena. The facility is community owned and we could tell that those who board and work there take great pride in their facility. A woman, I think a manager, was painting words on a wheelbarrow. She stopped what she was doing and got us set up. Her name was Susan Little.
The available pen had grass in it, which caused me some concern, but we all figured that it would not be harmful to the horses considering the area was small and the grass was green.
After eating (and there was a kitchen on hand), we watched Ray Fray teach a class that consisted of four students. He impressed me in being patient, calm, and attentive to his students. We sat and talked with two observers, Laura and Greg, who ride but were both sidelined by injuries. After, we retired to the back of the truck and went to sleep.
Next: 145. 5/26/19: The Kindness of Strangers |