“The wagon wasn’t really a horse-drawn wagon. Our bedrolls and groceries and supplies were hauled to our camp in a pickup. It was a term that had been handed down over the years from the late eighteen-hundreds. We were doing things just as they had back then. If a feller said we were going out on the pickup, nobody would know what he was talking about and would probably figure we were going for a Sunday afternoon joy ride. Some things don’t change over the years, but in some ways, they do.”
The summer range was large. It was mostly sagebrush with a sprinkling of cedar and pinon trees. There were a few creeks where the cattle could water. Snow-covered mountains could be seen in the distance. The nights were cool and the days were becoming hot. There were no roads past the camp. This was as close to wilderness as there could be.
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