Wagon's Ho!

Sometimes, things just happen for a reason.
No, really.
I have come to believe when you're on the right path, doors just fly open. Most of the time, when I've felt like this, I've just turned around and just walked, no, run away. This time, I'm determined to walk -- maybe even barge -- right through every door.
There is a group of people in town working on getting a Cowboy Poetry Gathering rolling. They kicked off the event last year and had a good turn out. This is the 2nd year and, once again, they're bringing in top names in the business to our town of, what 1500 people? I like Cowboy Poetry, and think it's a good thing for the community, but never got involved with the event.

The other day, my brother-in-law came over about 9:30 at night a dropped a pile of paperwork about the event on my lap. He doesn't do stuff like that very often so I figured I'd pay attention. Turns out, a wagon train is happening to kick off this year's gathering.
"You can help these people," my husband's brother insisted. "They're doing a good thing, but they need your help to get the word out."
I no longer write for the local paper and I wasn't sure what I could do to help this group. But, what the hell? I figured I could check it out.
The next day, I gathered more information. The trail ride would leave the center of town and head north to a ranch about 3 miles from my house. There would be a campfire there, where everyone will eat and circle the wagons for storytelling and supper. The next day--a trip to a local tourist attraction. Then back to town where a square dance will welcome the Cowboy Poets and their fans.
Well, all I could say was, "You had me wagon train."
Then, I started to paniic. What I know about horses would only get me in trouble. I don't own a wagon. How am I going to charge my phone, camera and iPod on the trail?
I figured if it was meant to be, it would work out. Maybe I could "hitch a ride" -- see I'm already using trail humor.
Oh, and there's this pesky little fear of horses I need to handle before the wagons pull out in a month.
The next day, I was chatting with my next door neighbor at the coffee shop where she works. I told her I wanted to go on the ride, but wasn't sure how to make it happen.
"You should talk to my step-dad. He has a wagon and he loves that stuff."
Within seconds of her giving me his number, guess who pulled in the driveway?
I presented my plan to her step-dad, Dick.
He was interested, but had a few questions for the trail boss. Would the fees cover the cost of feeding the horses? Will we be traveling on dirt or pavement? Apparently traveling in a covered wagon with wooden wheels isn't fun when traveling on pavement.
"But don't worry, I have a rubber-wheeled wagon we can pull," he said. "I'll throw a couple of straw bales on the back to sit on and it will be real comfortable."
Three days of riding on a straw bale does not sound comfortable, but what the hell? I'm game. If my great-grandparents could come west on the Oregon Trail, then I could handle 3-days on a straw bale. Maybe.

I tracked down the trail boss. Yes, the cost of feed was included. We would be on dirt trails.
Dick was in. I now had a ride. In a freakin' covered wagon! How cool is that?!
I told the trail boss I'd like to chronicle my ride. Update from the trail. I'd help promote it as much as possible.
I figure I'll post it here and on my Facebook and Twitter accounts. I'll also probably post it at Southern Idaho Living's website.
Tonight I stopped in at the local antique store. (this is where all the cool people hang out around here). While I was there, the trail boss, Lundy, (perfect name for a trail boss) came in.
He was just as interesting as my brother-in-law had described the night he came by to tell me about the wagon ride. Lundy is a kind and generous soul. He values history and hard work. He's a cowboy singer, an artist, teacher and builder. In an hour of discussion I learned the basics of his life story, laughed until my cheeks hurt and he sang two songs.
Perfect.
And here's the most important thing: he's bringing a nifty little gadget on the trail ride -- one that will charge the batteries on all my electronic story telling necessities. Bonus!
So, off I go on this grand adventure and I'll hardly be 10 miles from my home!
Looks like it's meant to be...