Happy Trails to You ? Nope.

Growing up in Sherwood Park was great. It afforded us a place to play by the river and a large area of woods. It was a much different neighborhood than our friends' that grew up in Castle Hill. We, of course, had the spring floods that - at that time - were great. It gave us time off school and we played in the water. It was also an area where we had a range of animals from dogs to cows and, yes, even horses.

Our family lived at 109 Greenview Drive. We had a huge yard that supported many events such as basketball, baseball, football, and many other types of games. We were surrounded by wooded lots. But, across the road was a cement block building that was turned into a horse stable. The Thomson's moved several horses onto the property. Now, I was a big fan of the TV cowboy era. Roy Rogers, The Lone Ranger, Gunsmoke and all of the other shows. So my plan was to hang out in the corner of our yard that was closest to the horse barn. Maybe I would get an invitation to come for a visit.

It was a warm summer day and it was my task for the day (and it took a day) to cut the grass in our yard. It suddenly came to me that I could take all the grass clippings and make snack size bales of hay for the horses! I found an old metal lunch box in the basement. I crammed the grass into the box and ta-da mini-bales! I made about a dozen bales and waited for Merle to show up. It was an hour or so and there he was. So I took over a couple of bales and asked Merle if he could use some hay. He was so nice he said he would take them; but, they would have to dry out a bit before he could use them. He asked me if I would like to help him in the barn. I told him I would have to ask Mom if it was okay. So I ran back to the house and asked Mom if I could help Merle over at the horse barn. She said it was okay but I could not ride the horses. Damn... that was as bad as the old "you could shoot your eye out" ploy.

So what was my job to be at the horse barn? Yep, you guessed it... scoop the poop and help feed the horses. These chores carried on for several weeks. Merle said, "Tom, you have really been helpful here. How would you like to ride one of the horses today?" All right!  Hi Ho Silver! I'm hittin' the dusty trail! I told Merle I would have to ask Mom and I would be right back. I ran so fast that my Keds shoes nearly melted. Out of breath I told Mom that Merle asked if I would like to ride one of the horses. She said. "NO" and not to ask again. Oh no... how was I going to get to Dodge City? The Lone Ranger would be waiting on the outskirts of town for me and all I could ride to meet him was a STICK. Dejected, I went back and told Merle that I couldn't ride the horse because Mom said no. I kept on helping Merle and working Mom with several schemes like "Look at this Mom! Trigger just saved Roy Rogers!  You have to see this, quick!" Surely this would show her how noble a horse really is and I would be just fine riding one of them. Still the answer was NO.

It was a Saturday morning and Mom said that she and Dad were going to Cedar Rapids and that I was to hang around the house. This was one time I would be home alone. I don't remember where everyone else was that day but that was okay. Mom and Dad loaded up and went down the road. Perfect!  I went across the road and told Merle, "Hey, let's saddle up one of the horses for me to ride. My dad said it was alright!" There was a horse that reminded me of Champion, Gene Autry's horse. So I mounted up and headed out to the Plains - better known as the pasture. The pasture was about 100 yards long and ran along side our road. I was riding down the path and I looked to my right and there was Mom and Dad riding along side me. I got "the look" and Dad pointed sternly. I knew that meant to get off the horse and come home NOW. I thanked Merle and walked as slow as I could home hoping that time would stand still and cooler heads would prevail. Would the Lone Ranger's dad punish him for riding a horse? Would Roy Rogers' dad tan his hide for riding a horse? Well mine did! After that little experience I didn't even want to ride the merry-go-round. My rear end was as red as a western sunset. Saddle sore had a whole new meaning. So I wasn't singing Happy Trails.