Ciao Cowboy

Okayyy .... after almost 6 months in Italy, the first post to my Italian blog is about a Wyoming dude ranch. Yep, I just got back from Jackson Hole and a fine family re-union at the Triangle-X (www.trianglex.com). Well, you know what they say about better late than never.



There you see the Family Gang riding on top of Stormy, Red Rock, Spike, Holyfield, Jolly, Folgers, Geronimo, ZZ Top, and Mabel. (Hey Dick Cheney, if you happen to be surfing this blog, yep, that's my 'lil neice Spohia riding your horse - but, I bet you weren't wearing red cowboy boots!)


Of course, we ain't just a bunch of rooky Dudes. Heck, we rid those trails 30 years ago.







Pop-Pop an Ma wer jus tickld to git us bak thar, redux'in those memoriums. We hat oursevs sech a gran ole' time, I reckon the lil'uns will wanna to do the same wit their'uns 30 yar more.


Not that life on a Dude Ranch is just a loup in the park ... it's tough business (on the bottom that is): 2 rides a day, morning and afteroon, 5 hours in the saddle between sunrise and sundown.






Of course, all oats and no hay makes Jack a dull bay. So, we also rode into town a few times and did our share to shore up the local Jackson Hole economy - shopping for western wear (the Milanese will be digging my purple cowboy shirt!), taking in the Patsy Cline show at the Arts Center (still humming something about midnight, moonlight and a ... weeping willow, cryin' on his pillow ... ), or 2-stepping on the dance floor and into other folk's vacation videos (Alicia high-fived me with a "We still got it!" after a lady stopped by with a "Dancing with the Stars" compliment :). [BTW, if you happen to find yourselves with happy feet in Jackson Hole: Skip the cover charge & garage band at the Million Dollar Cowboy Bar and head instead to the Wort where the music is lively and the dance floor is free.]

Other than riding and painting the town red (or at least a faint blush), Alicia & Chris outfitted a Family Float for us down the Snake River (to the chorus of a few sing-along-songs thanks to Fran, Olivia, & Nino - at least the moose didn't seem to mind), the kids joined in the rodeo calf chasing, and I even managed a 60-mile bike-ride along the base of the Grand Teton range. Of course, we also had our share of fun with each other. Given that this was the Wild West and we had to go by proper Injun' names, the tribal council would meet at the dinner table to vote on the likes of "Throwing Stick", "Fast Ball", "Red Boots", and "Balding Buffalo" ... not that they all stuck, but, I'll leave you guessing who walked away the hands down favorite for "Babbling Brook".

So, I've got to say the week of communing with The Family & Mother Nature was pretty swell. There's no denying that special place where
the trails are as long as the sky is big,
the dinner bell rings in every meal, and
the cowboys always wear boots.