Blowing Snow

In winter, 1969, two friends and I were hunting grizzlies on the
south shore of the Lesser Slave Lake in Northern Alberta. We rode down
off of a ridge and through what remained of an abandoned ranch. The
 barn was tumbled in, the fences down and the old log style house stood
 open to those winds that never cease. One of my hunting partners had
 ranched near there for a number of years. He told us the story of the
 family that had homesteaded there many years before. This is their
story.

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Your First Ride on a One Man Merry Go ‘Round – or – (The Sloan’s Liniment Archives)

From Folks’ Poems – Doc told us: “Back when I was a young feller in Flagstaff, Arizona in the mid ’40s, my Dad used to do business with the Kellum Ranch near there. I used to ride along with him, and that is where I got my first interests in cowboy stories and poetry. Many years later, when I was first getting into cowboy poetry, I was introduced to Sunny Hancock, by way of Chris Isaacs. In talking with Sunny I found he had started out with the Kellums and as Sunny and Chris have been two of my main inspirations, I occasionally run a poem for one or the other of those two fine poets and great examples of what this trade is all about. This poem is a reflection on some of my own experiences many, read that many/many, years ago, before I settled in and became a university professor. But it really reflects on the generation just before me and is written as a tribute to those cowboys I used to dream of becoming when I was a young feller.

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