Back in the days of the great cattle drives, the fording of a river with hundreds of head of meat on the hoof, was the most dangerous aspect of a cowboy’s job.
A laudatory term arose for Cowboys who could be counted on at such times. It lives on today.
I was lucky to meet two such men and every day since, I’ve strived to become, like them, ‘Someone to Ride the River With’.
“Over a decade ago I separated myself from almost everything I ever owned, all that I never wanted to, then took to the road...full time.”
I rest easy and resolved knowing that neither my
focus, nor reasoning has wavered. Nor has it ever been
any more complicated than it was before that first
It was solely and sincerely, that of a need to know.
A need to know more about the vast landscape that I have felt passionately connected to from the day I was born.
A need to know its pristine places, the inclinations of its people; their closely held principles, if any.
The long and short being, a need to know ‘what was left’ of the West I’d been born in to, grew up believing in, and am now convinced is America’s irrepressible backbone.