Featured at the Bar-D Ranch

 

Back on Home

Search CowboyPoetry.com

The Latest
     What's New
     Newsletter
        Subscribe (free!)

Be a Part of it All 
     About the BAR-D
     Join us!

The BAR-D Roundup

Cowboy Poetry Collection
     Folks' poems
     Honored Guests
     Index of poems

Poetry Submissions  
    Guidelines
    Current Lariat Laureate

Events Calendar

Cowboy Poetry Week

Featured Topics
    Classic Cowboy Poetry
    Newest Features
        Poets and musicians
        Cowboy poetry topics
        Programs of  interest
        Gathering reports
        In memory
   Who Knows?

Cowboy Life and Links
    Western Memories
    Books about Cowboy Poetry  

The Big Roundup

Link to us!
Give us a holler

Subscribe!

line.GIF (1552 bytes)

 

This is Page 71.

See some past weeks' photos below.

See an index of all past weeks' photos here.

See Page 1 here with the current photo of the week.

 

We welcome your pictures. We're looking for images that give a glimpse of the ranching, cowboy, and rural and working life of the West of today and yesterday. We're looking for vintage photos and contemporary photos: family photos, images of where you live and work, and the area around you. 

If you have a photo to share, email us for information about sending it to us.

Each week, we'll post selected photos from those received. We'll also share some photos posted previously elsewhere at CowboyPoetry.com.

 

Send your photo.

 Email us for information about sending it to us.

 

 

If you enjoy this feature, you may also be interested in our 
Western Memories Project, the personal recollections— many with photos— contributed by BAR-D visitors.  Your stories and photos are welcome.



previous weeks' photos

index of all photos


Week of April 19, 2010


Award-winning poet, radio host, emcee, and humorist Andy Nelson of Pinedale, Wyoming, shares photos and excerpts from his new book, Riding with Jim, which honors his family's generations of cowboys and farriers in poetry and in stories by both Andy and his father:



Dad as a young boy in 1933, with the horse
given him by his father, Gus Nelson

…I learned more on that trip than one can imagine. We branded the foals using a running ring and ran the neighbor’s iron on his, kept three of the two year olds and a strawberry Sevina stud colt out of the buckskin mare, then opened the gate and let the others head back for Marlborough country. I couldn’t dare to hope for what Papa had in mind for that beautiful painted horse; sure enough he was mine… James F. Walker Nelson
 



One of Dad’s fellow students shoeing a Shetland pony school at shoeing school, 1957

…What a terrible thing to do to an aspiring young cowboy, saddle him with the most ornery and short-fused animal in the equine kingdom. Those biting, striking, and kicking little Lucifers are the bane of cowboy education…



Shoeing school at Cal-Poly, San Luis Obispo, 1957

…Being the young son of a farrier meant you had the dubious distinction of being the tool-pusher, the go-fer, and the fly-swatter all wrapped into one job description. And if you were to execute your duties in an efficient and timely manner, you had to know the proper name (as well as nickname) of every tool and in what order to hand them to the master…

 


Dad with one of his shoeing rigs

…for the most part, Dad’s truck hauled horse shoeing equipment, complete with anvil, stand, tools, shoes, nails, and a portable forge made out of the shell of an abandoned water heater. The water heater was cut in half in a horizontal manner, a door cut in the front, a blower hole cut in the side where a hose ran in connected to a hand-crank blower on the other end, and a vent cut in the top…

 


Big brother Jim (right) and I in action 

…While I was in the air with the on-side front, Jim stealthily eased the off-side hind off the ground and began to do a little knife work on the sole. The horse stood still! So, we carried on. Jim nipped and rasped the hind and I completed the preparation for shoeing of the front…

 


The mighty farrier Dylan [Andy's son]

…the voice I heard was Dylan’s. He wasn’t terribly worried about the patriarch of his family being hurt, he just wanted to make sure he wasn’t destined for the same fate. He stood defiantly over the top of me and proclaimed, “See Dad, that’s why I want to be a fireman and not a horse shoer.” Smart boy…

 

 

Andy Nelson has shared other Picture the West photos:

  photos of his father, James W. Nelson, here

             photos of his father and his work as a farrier here

   photos of three generations of farriers here

   photos of his family's next generation of farriers here

   a 1950s family photo here

ancloudswagon.jpg (24930 bytes)  a 2005 sunset photo from his place in Pinedale, here

  a contemporary photo from his brother Jim's ranch here.

 

Also at CowboyPoetry.com, Andy Nelson has a special tribute to his father that includes his poem, Ridin' with Jim, and photos, stories, and more.

Read some of Andy Nelson's poetry here.

Photo by Jeri L. Dobrowski; see her gallery of western performers and others here.

 


   Share your photos for Picture the West.

Send your views of the West.

We're looking for images that give a glimpse of the ranching, cowboy, and rural and working life of the West of today and yesterday. We welcome vintage and contemporary photos:  family photos, images of where you live and work, and the area around you. 

If you have a photo and story to share, email us.

 


 

California poet and writer Janice Gilbertson sent some photos of Spring bursting forth in her beloved Santa Lucia mountains on the western edge of the Salinas Valley in Monterey County. She has written previously:

I have lived here in the eastern foothills of the Santa Lucia Mountains of western California for over fifty years. The range is a little over one hundred miles long, rising from near Monterey and ending in San Luis Obispo County to the south. The west side juts up from the Pacific coast and its floral and fauna is influenced by the ocean mists and fog. The east side where I live tumbles and then rolls down to the beautiful, fertile Salinas Valley. It is much drier here on this side, but there are rivers, creeks and springs that bring relief to the land and animals.
There were at least three Indian tribes in the range and surrounding areas, but it was mostly the Salinan-Jolon Indians who lived in this area. The San Antonio Mission is not far from here, maybe fifteen miles as the crow flies, but twice that far to drive. The Padres and settlers are the history of Jolon and surrounding area. (continued below...)


California poppies

 

I was seven years old when my family moved into this canyon and I began riding my old horse around the roads and trails. With two brothers quite a few years older than I, I was very much a loner and our horses and dogs were my best friends. It was only natural that I would fall in love with the land.

Now, my front porch looks west to hills and high ridges and the back yard shows off the Gabilan range across the Salinas valley. I never ever tire of it. "Sometimes, in the Lucias" came directly from the center of me. As I worked on writing it, I could hear the sounds and smell the scents just like I did when I rode alone as a child.

Janice Gilbertson's poem, "Sometimes in the Lucias," from her book of the same name, was a 2009 Western Writer's of America Spur Award finalist.

Sometimes, in the Lucias
Sometimes—on a ridge in the hard, hot air, where deer hooves clatter on the chalk
Horned toads hide in plain view and jackrabbit trembles in the shadow of hawk
 
Sometimes—I hear sounds, a bee buzzing on the sweet sage, the singing gnat at my ear
The music of shifting, falling shale beneath the pads of something wild, come near
 
From the time I was just a small child, I rode long days out on my own
I wonder, now, at my comfort. Perhaps I was never really alone.
 
Sometimes—it is their voices I hear, not words, but the sounds of words
That rise from canyon shadow or fly through the air with swifting birds
 
I can hear the thrum of man-talk and the melody of women's voices high
Children's giggles with the singing gnat, and infants fuss with spotted fawns' cry
 
If I leave the ridge and ride the trail to where a spring flows sweet and free
Sometimes—when my lips touch the pool, the reflection there is not of me
 
The mountains of Santa Lucia harbor spirits of those who came long before
And, sometimes, now, I follow the trails of Padres, Salinans and Conquistadore
 
How I long to sit with them beside a shady, singing willow creek
Or ride beside a spirit horse up-trail to a glorious coastal peak!
 
They beckon me to painted caves. They bid me welcome to adobe walls
And though we share no common blood there is a sort of kin who calls...
 
Sometimes—I lay in silent dark and ask, if ever I should ride away
Though I may go with heart and soul, will my spirit choose to stay?
© 2007, Janice Gilbertson
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.

 

Janice Gilbertson shared a previous Picture the West in 2007:

 


photo by Jeri L. Dobrowski

Read about Janice Gilbertson and more of her poetry here.

 

 

 


   Share your photos for Picture the West.

Send your views of the West.

We're looking for images that give a glimpse of the ranching, cowboy, and rural and working life of the West of today and yesterday. We welcome vintage and contemporary photos:  family photos, images of where you live and work, and the area around you. 

If you have a photo and story to share, email us.

 


 

   

        

       

     

       

     

     

     

    

     

   

     

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tell us your stories!  If you have a photo to share, email us.

See an index of all past photos here.

 

 

 

 

www.cowboypoetry.com

 

HOME

 What's New | Poems | Search

 Features | Events  

The BAR-D Roundup | Cowboy Poetry Week

Poetry Submissions 

Subscribe | Newsletter | Contact Us

  Join Us!

 

Authors retain copyright to their work; obtain an author's
permission before using a poem in any form.

 

CowboyPoetry.com is a project of the Center for Western and Cowboy Poetry, Inc., a Federal and California tax-exempt non-profit 501 (c) (3) organization.  

 

Site copyright information