Fighter - Cancer battle Fighting with Dignity

In memory of John Douglas Feusner, Larry James Lampkins, and countless others who have taught us how to fight with honor and courage.

“Take the Road Less Traveled”. 

The words stared back at me, never more poignant. You see, what was hidden behind those words, tucked deep inside the package, had been source of great anticipation. I already knew about taking those roads that are not traveled by many. The roads that are dirty, uphill, rough as heck, jar every bone in your body and make you say things that would make a church lady blush. There is no discrediting those trips can wear a man down. However, the scenery encountered on those roads is so rare and beautiful; you always find yourself praying its memory will be forever burned in your mind and in your soul. As the full memory of the road & its beauty came back to me, I found myself tearing into that package with renewed joy and a new sense of FigHt!

Just few weeks before I was innocently partaking in a lil Junk Gypsy “window shoppin” when something caught my eye. This time it was not bright and shiny, but instead heartfelt and inspiring. “Kickin’ Hiney and Takin’ Names” splashed across my screen. Clearly, with a title like that they had me at hello. It seemed the Junk Gypsy gals wanted to FIGHT and when you pair two sisters from the Lone Star State with a dad who is fighting a battle against cancer, this will be a fight worth watching! Y’all that have been down this road, know full well that certain battles are NEVER to be fought alone.

cancer…it stinks. and i would pretty much assume there isn’t a single person out there whose life has not been touched in some way by that ugly, stinky word. you know people that have lost the battle, you know some that are currently in the trenches of war, and thankfully you know those that have won the FIGHT.

or possibly, YOU are currently courageously, boldly, fighting the fight. the gloves-are-off-take-no-prisoners-fight-of-your-life. we salute you.

and here’s the good part. the part we’re really pumped about…we are working on a new design. a new design to HONOR and CELEBRATE all of the cancer survivors & fighters & true-blue warriors out there. we are doing a call for names. for the names of anyone & everyone who has been through the CaNCER war. NAMES in honor, in celebration, in memoriam.

and the even better part…we’re going to print EVERY name we receive on our new design, print it, and SELL it. and 100% of the profits will go to the LIVESTRONG foundation working hard in the fight against cancer.

(Junk Gypsy Blog)

Now THIS was a fight I could get plum excited about. I had TwO very important tasks & oNe very important deadline before me. I needed to get my personal FigHter’s name typed out ASAP & then send this information on to a friend who had lost her own father one month before mine. The Gypsy gals ended up having almost 1,000 names to spread out over five shirts…but wouldn’t it just be like fate that those two important names can be found on the same shirt!

…Cancer. Jazz it up, strip it down, make it emotional, interpret it scientifically, cuss about it or write it a love sonnet. No matter what you do to Cancer, it just is what it is. It might be the worst thing that happens to you or frankly, it might be far from the worst boulder to ever roll onto your trail. If Cancer does affect your life one day, if Cancer is affecting your life right now, or if Cancer has affected your life in the past, what are ya gonna do about it? The way I see it, you only have one option. You are going to FIGHT. You will fight every way you know how. If you are not actually the person whose cells are going crazy then you will fight FOR that person. We all are given a pretty minuscule set of expectations when we make our debut into this world. The basic expectation is to L-I-V-E. I don’t know about you but I think we better just hunker down & get to workin’ on that task.

Summer 2006 - A quick visit from the folks during my summer job at the E Bar L, Greenough MT.
 2-3 yrs into his Cancer FIGHT

People always preach to my generation about having no regrets. My ideal scenario of having no regrets often seems starkly different than the ideals of my peers. I think it would be swell to travel the world, but honestly if it doesn’t happen, then I see no sense in discrediting all the wonderful life experiences I have been given. I have already been there and done that when it comes to things most folks commonly regret…and yet…I still don’t want to change a thing. All of the junk in our trunks is part of where we’ve been and I know we can never get to where we are going until we know where we’ve been. Personally, the only thing I will ever regret in life is if I am not a FigHteR. With the exception of the schoolyard bully I set straight in 2nd grade, I try to keep my fighting limited to fights within my soul. Cancer is just that…it is an all out battle of your soul...and those are the kind of battles well-worth fighting for.

So how exactly are you plannin on fightin’ your fight? We all know that every good battle has a battle plan. Before you can even dream of having a stellar legacy, the tough question must be asked. Do you even have it in you to be a FigHteR? As long as you have a little heavy dose of “try” in ya, then we can get down to crafting this footloose & fancy free plan of action. Yep, footloose and fancy free.

1.  Go find yourself a sense of humor.

Lord do I hope that by now you tripped over a sense of humor somewhere along the dirt road.

2.  Find some inner joy...yesterday.

I know I am doing something right when it takes very little to light my enthusiasm. Folks, let me tell ya, you know you’ve trekked up some steep & dusty mountain roads when all you need for pure unabashed joy is a Mr. Freeze Popsicle! Popsicles may not do it for you, but you best find your own frozen joystick and find it fast. This fight is all about being blinded by joy instead of being blind to joy.

3.  Lose the ‘tude.

Now is not the time for pride. Period.

4.  R & R.

Not the kind best served on ice. This is of the rest and relaxation variety. I suspect R&R is a new concept and might be tough to learn. However, I have faith old horses can be taught to drink the water. This variety of R & R is also best consumed in moderation. Too much rest and relaxation kills the fight. Too much rest equals too little living. If your current view of living looks mostly like working you might want to spruce up the scenery just a touch. If you are fightin’ this fight chances are you have asked “why me?” It is perfectly okay to ask “why me?”, just as long every Q & A round ends with the question, “what now?”. A new chapter has been added to your book. Somebody else out there needs to read that chapter. And they need you rested, refreshed, and back to work!

5. NEF – Nutrition, Education, Fitness.

a.  Nutrition –Time to ditch the cowboy breakfasts & lunches. Ie. a pot of coffee for breakfast and a Snickers bar in the afternoon. You are gonna have to start chewin on something besides coffee grinds in the morning & dust off your superhero lunch box. Read Beating Cancer With Nutrition It is large, it is in charge, and it is a little left of center. READ IT!

b.  Education - Dust off your reading glasses and start studying! Don’t OD on the cancer forums & blogs, they become dreary fast. If you want to arm yourself with knowledge, then surround yourself with the progressive crowd. GRACE, is a “Cancer” website with my personal endorsement. Its founder, Dr. West, is a renowned Lung Cancer Specialist…and lover of a good steak! GRACE is a nonprofit foundation with a vision to provide cutting edge cancer education to patients and caregivers. You won’t find posts about people feeling bad but you will find a breath of fresh air and plenty of information about treatments & research. You will find….HOPE. Dr. West has hope. He has hope in his business. As a cattleman you two should be able to relate quite well. You are hedging grass, he is hedging treatment options. You both know what is like to have the odds stacked against you but both still have hope in your business. You set the tone for your battle. If you want this to be a fight filled with joy & hope then stop hiding your light behind the sagebrush. Be the valiant leader of your healthcare team, they WILL follow.

c.  Fitness – SURVIVAL of the Fittest. The first month into my father’s almost 6 year fight, I gave him loving, sweet advice.  “Don’t be stupid”. And I meant it. Prognosis means NOTHING to me, luckily my father & I agreed. Don’t waste my time telling me your guess. Only God knows the hairs on my head & the number of my days. Prognosis aside, my father still had been diagnosed with Non Small Cell Lung Cancer…at Stage IV. I said no more running…he agreed. However, this is all about the fight. So with that, John Feusner became an official member of the Yakima YMCA. In between us riding pens or doctoring cattle, my dad and I would often go to the gym together. In fact, my dad continued working out even through his second hip replacement. Make your soul fit, and your mind will follow. Survival of the FiTTesT.

I have not actually fought the fight of Cancer. I wish my father could be here to share some of his infinite wisdom with you. What I think he would tell is to just keep, keepin’ on. Just keep LIVING. Keep WORKING. I like to think in his own diplomatic way he would tell you to not screw up this opportunity. No matter if he said that or not, his actions certainly told us to not screw up an opportunity to live life without regret. You will either view Cancer as a disease that strips you of all opportunity or one that brings new opportunity. A few months before my father passed away he asked me if I remembered what I had told him five years before. I panicked thinking back to what on earth might have slipped out of my 20 year old mouth. He proceeded to take me back to our first conversation after his grim diagnosis. I had made him go for a 2 mile walk with me in the dead of winter and gave him a reality check. The reality for my father was that this could be treated as just another day in the life. His wife had survived a horrific car accident, coma, and brain injury. He had not let car accidents and comas stop him so why would he be derailed by cancer? His only option was to keep on living just as he had been…and maybe even live just a little bit better! Cancer didn’t strip us of opportunity, it created new opportunity. Memories were made. Regrets were banished. New ambition was born.

Cancer is no different than any other day you have lived. You are given an opportunity. Everywhere you look you will find an abundance of wisdom, knowledge, and love just waiting to be received. Look for those gifts no further than in the faces of your family, your medical team, your friends, your industry peers, and many others.

(More information can be found on my “NSCLC/Cancer” page, including links to Cancer GRACE, where to buy Beating Cancer With Nutrition, & how to snag your own Junk Gypsy “FigHter” Tee.)

Previously published in the June, 2011 edition of The Washington Cattlemen's Association periodical The Ketch Pen

L-I-V-I-N the DrEaM

Livin’ the Dream

Imagine someone asking you, “What are you up to these days?” and you respond, “Oh, just livin’ the dream.” Does that scenario have a familiar ring to it? I recently mentioned to someone that perhaps they need a tattoo on their wrist that reads in big bold letters, L-I-V-I-N the DREAM. That way when they find themselves slapping their hand to their forehead, a sure and steady reminder of their grand life will never be out of reach.

Often when we answer a question with a phrase like “living the dream” we might just throw in a drop or two of facetiousness with it. However, what would happen if we actually started believing we were living a dream? I recently read that the United States ranks well below other industrialized countries in the areas of Math and Science. However, our students rank shockingly high in one particular category - self esteem. Whew, that is a relief! At least we can find great comfort in that our low intelligence will not damper our spirit and sense of self.

Now that we are armed with the knowledge of our greatest attributes we know just how to pull ourselves up by our bootstraps. Since most of us are products of the United States Education System we can rule out that our intelligence will propel us forward. It looks like we will have to resort to putting our unusually high self esteem to work. Do not despair just yet; this self esteem business has a few decent qualities we can tap into. Folks with high self esteem believe they can do anything they set their mind to. That might also be due to a lack of intelligent judgment but for this article we will ignore that argument. When a person believes they can do anything or be anyone, they will have an infinite number of dreams to be dreamed and schemes to be schemed.

Now do not misconstrue my words, I am in no way discrediting the importance of possessing intelligence. Instead, I am raising the question that perhaps a solid self-esteem can make up for whatever intellectual shortcomings we may have. Instead of using a phrase such as “Livin’ the Dream” in a facetious manner when someone inquires about your life, what if we actually began to believe we were livin’ the dream? We may not be living some folks’ dreams, heck, we may not be living out our own dream, but most likely we are living out someone’s dream. At this exact moment in time, there are a greater percentage of people in this world who’s greatest dream is simply to survive. Perhaps they lie awake at night wondering how they will scrounge up food for their children, wondering when the gunfire will cease, or fighting a ferocious disease and praying for one last breath of air to breathe. In an instant our own dreams and ambitions appear as shallow and superficial as those of the Kardashians.  

I do not know at what point our contentedness with the unfolding of our lives just becomes settling for less than we are capable of. However, I do believe we need to use this self esteem/intelligence combination as a mechanism for always striving to work harder and dream bigger. No matter how twisted the path we are being led down, once we succeed at keeping our feet on the ground and our eyes to the sky then we will truly be “L-I-V-I-N the Dream”.

Wish I was down on some blue bayou,
With a bamboo cane stuck in the sand.
But the road I'm on, don't seem to go there,
So I just dream, keep on bein' the way I am.
Wish I enjoyed what makes my living,
Did what I do with a willin' hand.
Some would run, ah, but that ain't like me.
So I just dream and keep on bein' the way I am.

The way I am, don't fit my shackles.
The way I am, reality.
I can almost see that bobber dancin',
So I just dream, keep on bein' the way I am.

~Merle Haggard

(Previously published in the April, 2011 edition of The Ketch Pen, a monthly periodical of the Washington Cattlemen's Association. Subscription information here)

Listen/Watch The Way I Am performed by Miranda Lambert

Humble Lessons Learned~PNW Young Cattlemen's Conference

Pacific Northwest Young Cattlemen’s Conference

Humble Lessons Learned

A few days ago I found myself once again sitting on what has now become a staple ride in my life, the ever infamous tour bus. As I was traveling the countryside along I-84 just south of the Washington border I realized the cattle industry has in fact brought a constant to my life. In the past three years if there is one thing I can count on it would be that a ride in a tour bus through barren countryside will most definitely find its way on my yearly agenda! It seems any shenanigans I am involved with can be traced back to those inconspicuous tours with ‘Cattlemen’s Conference’ in the title. This most recent ride through the western countryside was no exception, as it was in honor of the 2nd Annual Pacific Northwest Young Cattlemen’s Conference.

I cannot begin to tell you about this year’s PNW YCC tour without reminding my fellow WCA members of the tour and my humble if not naïve beginnings. If I think back to January of 2009, I was just a few months into volunteer writing for the WA Cattlemen’s Association. At that time I did not even know what a ‘Cattlemen’s Conference’ was, let alone did the Pacific Northwest Cattlemen’s Conference yet exist. I did not even learn of NCBA’s Cattlemen’s Conference until late February of 2009. All I had to hear was a trip that ended in Washington DC and I was determined to get myself there. Two months later I had found myself a spot on that big ol’ tour bus and was in for much more than a tour of the nation’s capital. Since then there has been no hint of ‘woah’ in the WCA or my vocabulary, thus the cattle shenanigans began!

Jump forward to January, 2010 and the first ever regional Young Cattlemen’s Conference was held right here in the little ol’ Pacific Northwest. The previous summer I received a call from Julie Laird, director of Oregon Cattlemen’s young member Association. Julie and Ron Rowan of Beef NW Feedlot had come up with an idea to bring the same caliber of tour as the national YCC here to the Northwest. I immediately took them up on their offer to be part of this opportunity and the planning began. With a dose of hope and positive thoughts, our goal was to have 25-40 folks attend, however, our positive thinking brought in 125 registrants to this inaugural PNW YCC tour.

January, 2011 ushered in the second annual PNW YCC tour and with it came 150 registrants. If my WSU math skills serve me well, then the proof is in the numbers that the inaugural tour was far more than beginner’s luck. A master philosopher once said, “If you build it, they will come”. We built this year’s tour around the Columbia River and all that the abundance it provides for WA, OR, and ID. We met in Pendleton, OR and quickly loaded the buses for our first stop at Beef Northwest's Boardman, OR feedlot. Pete Szasz led the tour around the feedlot and also gave us an in-depth outline of each department that makes a feedlot go 'round. From learning where the feed originates from, animal health, feedlot records/accounting, & traceability of finished product not a detail of the cattle feeding industry was left out. We learned about both conventional cattle feeding as well as an overview of natural and other niche feeding programs. From there we toured Columbia River Dairy, a 24,000 dairy that milks 70% Jersey cows. This dairy is part of RDO Farms and therefore most of the cattle feed is supplied by the farming operation or other locally produced commodities. In all the hype of the green movement, is there anything more green than using commodities from your own back yard? After the dairy we jumped over to lunch at the Port of Morrow which was one of the highlights of my day seeing as I work in the agricultural export industry. A tour of Pacific Ethanol followed and the buses split off to tour MacKenzie Ranch or LGW Ranch. I had the pleasure of visiting LGW Ranch, owned and operated by the Wadekamper family. Evach individual on our bus was both humbled and inspired by this amazing family. Our cup of inspiration and motivation runneth over at this stop. From there we traveled on to Baker City for dinner and a round of speakers at the Thomas Angus Ranch. We received top treatment with a steak dinner served in their beautiful barn and a chance to hear from speakers that had been flown in from around the country. Saturday found us ushered back on the buses for the trip to La Grande, OR for a day at Beef NW's 7th annual Cattlemen's Workshop. We heard from industry brains from as far as the University of Kentucky, Texas A & M, and every place in between. In less than 24 hours, 150 folks traveled over 320 miles, toured every aspect of the cattle industry and received an education that many college degrees will never supply. The most humbling part? Every inch of this opportunity was free thanks to generous donations by the three PNW Cattlemen Associations, our allied industries, as well as the individual time, money, and hospitality generously given by each facility and speaker. There is nothing of monetary value gained from those involved in such generous opportunities as this tour. Would you believe that? What is gained can never be counted in silver or gold. These folks share their own good fortune, the lessons they have learned and the knowledge they possess so that those coming up in the ranks will have a fighting chance at making it in this world.

Before and after that infamous ten day trip across the US back in 2009 as part of the NCBA Young Cattlemen’s Conference I earnestly pursued starting something in the WCA for members to be involved in that were…well... younger than our grandparents. Once my YCC trip was over and I landed back in WA I was even more convicted of offering some fresh involvement for the generations of "X, Y, Z". In just a few short years I continue to be amazed at all the opportunity awaiting us in this world, especially in the cattle industry. Each of us have faced a severe recession, uncertain political climate in our country and world, and numerous personal losses. However, opportunity IS patiently waiting to be found under every rock, hard place, and even under every cow’s tail. I have found that opportunities are as readily available as Costco samples on a Saturday and my desire has been tha folks from my neck of the woods will have knowledge of these opportunities. From my experience, it is so easy to be involved in the cattle industry on any level of involvement one desires. The key word being, involved.

What are we taught from a young age? Well, we are taught a dirty word or a sassy tone mean lunch tastes more like a bar of soap than a bologna sandwich. We are taught not to do drugs or alcohol (thank you DARE), and we are taught to be nice to other people. The most important lesson we are ALL taught as soon as we can walk on our own is in order to function in life, in order to survive, we must evoke effort. Resourcefulness, being involved, putting forth effort, just being present in life, does not come easy to some. Those that did not know how to start a washing machine until college or later, YES I am referring to you. Eventually though the bars of soap get put away, the playground teachers are no longer around to preach about sticks & stones, and we all have to do our own laundry. It is time to get take initiative and clean up some parts of our lives because folks are waiting on you. Look around and you will see how much you are needed by your neighbors, your community, and your industry. You would have never learned how to start that washer, change that irrigation pipe, or doctor that heifer if someone did not send a dose of their own initiative your way. It’s time to share your good fortune and life lessons before your time runs out.

~For more information please visit the Young WA Cattlemen website~

Previously published January, 2011 in'The Ketch Pen', a WA Cattlemen's Association periodical.

CrazY cowBoy DrEAm

Crazy Cowboy Dream

“The miles that I have traveled, the places I have seen

Just won’t let me put a saddle on this Crazy Cowboy Dream”¹

          

A few days ago I took my niece up on the invitation to join her at school for “hot lunch”. When your nephew and nieces range in age from 13 down to 7, it is easy to see the GIANT handwriting on the wall. Those pending teenage years have the possibility to make those invitations a thing of the past ! A scheduling conflict resulted in the need to move our original lunch date from the coveted “salad bar” day to a standard “hot lunch” day. Have no fear, this school brought it’s noon hour A-Game. My nephew and nieces attend a private Catholic School in Yakima. Most of the teachers recognize me by now as I have been picking up at least 1 child a year for going on a decade! Despite what most folks would consider a less-than-friendly locale, the school proves friendly & welcoming to the weary lunch maven or afternoon courier. On this recent voyage I found myself likening their school to a small, rural town. The kind of town where the lunch is hot, the smiles are warm, & crazy cowboy dreams are still dreamed.

Back at the cafeteria my small town euphoria was kindly interrupted by a sweet voice, “Aunt Jenna, would you like milk?” Don’t tell the health officials, but typically the only time I reach for milk is when it comes served as a double in a tall glass with ice, a few choice ingredients, and a name that sounds suspiciously like a famous handgun!  On this day, nostalgia won as chocolate milk beckoned its way to my tray. As I found my way back to a table surrounded by 11 year old girls and not a boy in sight, I found myself wondering when that fateful day arrived so many years ago that took away the choice of chocolate milk and took our crazy cowboy dreams right along with it.

One of the great blessings life throws our way are the times when a philosophical theme of one kind or another takes residence in our mind. This philosophical battle invokes pondering that may last for days, weeks, even months. As we drive to and from the kids’ school, ride through that group of pairs, or fix the familiar fence line we may not even realize what our brain fervently ponders day after day. If we are lucky we will reach the pinnacle of all great pondering…the much lofted after revelation. Cattle ranchers are blessed to be an intricate part of nature that includes few others. They are able to take in the wide open spaces, fresh air, understand the delicate balance of all life that surrounds them. All that oneness with nature is great but let’s face it; 'em ranchers are slightly scant on human interaction! It has been a long time since they saddled up to a lunchroom table with their chocolate milk, unless you count those bi-yearly trips to the sale barn cafe!  However, this lifestyle makes them far from short on philosophical ponderings or even a profound revelation now and again. Rather than send our ranchers to “Mingling 101” down at the local Eagles, let’s keep them out on the range & tap into that pondering mind. How intriguing it is to sit down at the lunch table and hear a group of folks whose crazy cowboy dreams may very well be alive and kickin’.

My penchant is strong for anything that takes me back to a time when the worry was less and the “living and doing” was more. Typically that means a great deal of enthusiasm at every 2/$1.00 candy rack where the packaging hasn’t changed since Reagan was in office. However, if you look beyond the Cinnamon Bears, Bubbletape, & Slurpees you just might catch a glimpse of the “good ole days”. The Good Ole Days are not limited to the 1880s or the writings of Laura Ingalls Wilder. We all have our very own version of good ole days. That school lunchroom with its choice of “white milk or chocolate” is just one small peek into our glorious yesteryears. Those days when our minds were full enough to be present yet empty enough to dream.

Someone reminded me this week of the saying about doers and dreamers. My personal rendition goes something like “There are three types of people in this world: Dreamers, Doers, and those that let others do the dreaming and the doing.” I believe we cannot successfully do until we have successfully dreamed. When is the last time you let yourself dream or even turned those dreams into something you did? We all know that no one has successfully ever kept us down without our consent but sometimes it takes a good hot lunch, carton of milk, and a kickball game to remind us to start living our crazy cowboy dreams.

“....The miles that I have traveled, the places I have seen

Just won’t let me put a saddle on this Crazy Cowboy Dream”¹

(¹ Robert Earl Keen. “Crazy Cowboy Dream.” Bigger Piece of Sky. MP3. Koch Records, 2004.)

Originally published in WCA Ketch Pen November 2010. 

Heart Like a MuLe

An early evening perched on my family’s deck left my gaze to rest upon what I have long thought to be the most striking animal in the corral. As the sun set slowly behind Mt. Clements, the coloring of this animal was brought to life before my eyes. The sky’s gold and orange hues set off the rich chocolate dorsal stripe, surrounded by an almost brindle colored coat. The animal gazed up at me and I swore our eyes locked for a few fleeting seconds. Those soft eyes left me wondering what past such a beautiful creature was holding onto. Over the last year I have been intrigued over how something so rare and beautiful on the outside could be so fragile and complex on the inside. You see, this animal was not just another normal four-legged creature that had found its way onto my family’s abode. This was a mule. In fact, it was the first mule to ever have found a home here. “Mule” seemed to be its name, and in the nearly two years since he’s moved in he had come as far as almost allowing me to pet him! Dear family friends were kind enough to loan him to us in hopes we could lure him out of shell with TLC and more than a dose of trust. As I have not been the one footing the feed bill, “Mule” is of no bother to me. His “beautiful” bray always supplies me with one of those from-the-belly laughs and typically when I needed a laugh the most. His rare coloring gives a girl all the eye candy she could ask for, so as far as I am concerned he can put his feet up and stay awhile longer.

One day while out painting by the shop, “Mule” decided to rest his head over the nearby gate and keep me company, from a distance he felt was safe of course. Looking over at this creature that wanted so badly to trust but couldn’t unbury his past, I got to pondering about what path folks leave behind and the path that remains in the distance. As the mule loudly beckoned for my attention I looked up once more and begin to wonder just where one crosses over from the heart of a horse into the heart of a mule.

As I have journeyed through this writing experience with the Washington Cattlemen’s Association, some very drastic changes have occurred in my life, but more importantly in my soul. My recent WCA Ketch Pen sabbatical was not unintentional. For those of you that may tune into my blog now and again, you will have possibly noted the change. Anticipating a move to Texas, I quietly changed my blog from the Young Washington Cattlemen’s Association to The Sagebrush Chronicles. This name change was about more than just a potential location change, it granted me the freedom to dive deeper into philosophical ramblings without fear of remaining politically and socially neutral. My writing is something that seems to come from whatever journey my mind and soul is adventuring down. Great for a blog, not great for newspaper deadlines or an audience featuring a load of cattlemen and women that may be used to a slightly stauncher read. After many months of being left high and dry come Ketch Pen time, I came to a bold decision. As just a volunteer writer for a non-profit organization, I decided I was going deep. After all, aren’t all of us trudging up the same trail in life? That inevitable trail that seems to be left off of any map.

That very trail would be the one God and I have been climbing up the past few months, ice pick and all. I honestly acknowledge my recent articles have come up short on bovine related content. The cattle industry has not left my mind entirely; however, due to other circumstances it has only received the occasional nod in its direction from me. Less than two months ago I said goodbye to my job at Farm Credit and pointed my rig west on I-90 for what I hoped would be the last of my weekly Spokane-Selah commute. After a pit-stop in Lind, WA for the annual Combine Derby, I arrived in the Wenas with less than 5 weeks until I was bound for Fort Worth, TX! Last February I boldly applied for a one year Ranch Management Program at Texas Christian University. After inundating the professors of the Ranch Management Program with a lengthy auto-biography I was summoned for an interview. So, mid-April I was once again hitched up on the Southwest wagon, destination Fort Worth. Less than two weeks after my interview I had an official acceptance letter in my hands and the world as my oyster. Once I figured out a well-timed departure from my corporate career, I had just enough days left in Washington State to sell and pay off my car, sell most of my belongings, and find room in a rental rig for my *extensive* wardrobe, minus any winter item containing wool or insulation of course!

Then, that fateful morning dawned with a financial aid wake-up call. This well-oiled, smooth running plan thus far had seemingly been crafted by someone far wiser than me and months back I gave that wise leader the reins to this stubborn mule. God had the ability to change the plan at any time and this time I vowed to be willing to bend and so it seemed our “come to Jesus” talk had arrived. Would I “have the faith” and bend or would I stubbornly stand my ground and continue forward on this southbound trail I desperately wanted to travel? This time, I relinquished control, ignored what the world might say and have been hanging on ever since.

How many of you have sat around the kitchen table late at night wringing your hands through your hair facing a similar situation? God changed the plan mid-game and now what were you to do? The haystacks all caught fire, cows were stolen, Federal grazing stripped from your hands, a family member passed, your “income earner” lost their job...the scenarios seem endless. Well there are really only two options in times of unknown; we can view a change in the trail we were on as an opportunity or a dead-end. With those as my options, it seems I once again find myself picking up my crazy heart and giving it one more try.¹ Over the last decade I have found myself in more situations than I would have ever dreamed possible where I asked God, “So I guess we’re adding THIS to the mix?” Would the world see those bumps in the road as blessings? Well...probably not, they would probably just see a trail-block. But the world has the heart of a horse. Sometimes life is complicated, it is deep, it is not to be understood in the present, if understood ever. Sometimes, life requires the heart of a mule.

 (¹ Bingham, Ryan. “The Weary Kind.” Crazy Heart. MP3. New West Records, 2010.)

Originally published: Washington Cattlemen's Association Sept 2010 Ketch Pen

Ride 100 Miles With Me

A movie was released this last year that featured a character I found myself strongly relating to. A classic scene in the movie included a speech by this character that stuck with me, "..I tend to think of myself as a 1-man wolf pack..." I share a similar independent spirit but over the years have learned to grow my wolf pack to include many different genres of life. Lately, I find myself relating to a rare and unique group of folks ... truck drivers. Now, I am well aware of the fact this elite group will not be inducting me fully into their posse anytime soon. Let's face it, does anybody really think that I am the best choice to pull that load of fat cattle or hay while bombing down the freeway? However, over the course of more than a year, the road has become my home. I'm not quite logging long haul miles but my nice weekly jaunt to and from my folks place covers 600 roundtrip miles. When I passed the 30,000 mile mark I officially moved into a new road warrior tier. This top tier membership includes perks & new-found wisdom such as understanding that any trips before 5pm and after 5am will encounter “unbearable traffic" through Eastern Washington, an unexplainable affection for gas stations-specifically coffee machines & merchandise racks, and the much lofted ownership of the 7-Eleven coffee refill card! However, what really sets this pavement pounding tier aside is the Zen-like deep thought the open road brings. While driving the other day I heard a quote from a California cattle rancher and agriculture advocate, "As my grandpa used to say, 'To understand my perspective, ride 100 miles with me.'" With my foot firmly glued to the pedal and another 200 miles to go, only two entertainment options remained for the drive: I could continue singing along to Tanya Tucker, or I could get this "perspective" predicament ironed out. It looked like 'Lizzie and the Rainman' was going to have to wait.

When is the last time you said, "I would be interested to hear what their perspective was on this matter." Can you actually remember ever saying or thinking that and if you are honest with yourself, did you really truly want to hear what someone else's perspective was? Perhaps now is a good time to take a serene drive and really chew the fat on ol’ Grandpa's quote. I will be the first one to admit that if you asked me if I really wanted to "understand Obama's perspective", colorful words would be heard for miles around. I am a little too prickled up right now to ride 100 miles with someone who's perspective I think does not contain an once of rationale or intelligent thought. Oh crap...now I sound just like the folks I’m complaining about.. open minded until I actually open my mouth. However, when I take a deep breath I think I would want to sit down with the Obamas and get an earful of their perspective. I am curious about how people get to their beliefs. If I wasn’t raised in Yakima County on a cattle ranch I guarantee my perspective on life would be far different than what it is currently. When is the last time you had a conversation with someone who had a different perspective than you? Better yet, would you even offer up your listening time if some young chap’s appearances hinted they came from a different wolf pack than you?

Some days I get so sick of being politically correct it’s enough to make me almost punch the next peace, love, and happiness socialist right in the teeth. Then, that annoying angel over my right shoulder starts reminding me that if I judge that hippie book by its cover or never open it up to see what it says I’m limiting myself to what could be something great. Every so often I do listen to that angel on my right shoulder and that 100 mile ride often ends with a new found friend and more importantly some new found perspective.

I knew a man who was not a stranger to uttering profound proverbs such as, "to understand my perspective, ride 100 miles with me." these out of nowhere statements always came during what seemed like a dreadful 100 mile no air conditioned, 90 degree day ride in a grain truck or a scorching sun filled horseback ride through the sageland. At that time, understanding his perspective was not the issue. The issue was the desire to understand his perspective or how he came to hold that perspective. As I've encountered many various wolf packs and genres of folk over the years, I've never forgotten those days spent learning silent lessons. It may be shocking to some that at times I am not shy at voicing my opinion or perspective. But isn’t that what all any humans desire, to be heard and understood? Every human being was given a voice and expansive mind to articulate individual views of how the world goes 'round. Gosh you are probably starting to think I sound more like Jane Fonda than Glenn Beck. Well now, you’ve never saddled up and went on that ride with me? If we desire to have our perspective heard by the world, are we willing to listen to someone of the opposite belief system be heard? Well cattlemen ... are we? If we want the Department of Ecology to listen to why they should grant us our right to use exempt wells for stock watering are we really going to open-mindedly listen to the Sierra Club’s views of water management? Perhaps the time has come to hop in the old truck or tighten the cinch on that old mare and go for a ride with them. When I find myself saying that I just do not understand how that person could ever come to that ideology of thinking its never long before a lump in my throat forms and I know my answer. The answer lies in the truth that I will never understand how someone came to their belief system unless I ask them or more importantly, I listen to them.

Have you ever truly listened to two people who can't agree on abortion. Yes, I just said abortion, perhaps the most taboo word ever uttered in the English language-you will survive I promise. It typically does not take long to understand why they can not agree-heck a six year old could figure out faster than us. Those two folks' perspectives are not the same because their life experiences are not the same, the way they were raised is not the same, or maybe their brains are just not clones of one another’s. We need to stop caring so much about people who don’t think the same as us-get over it. If we want people to not stereotype agriculturists, conservatives, religious followers in a box, then we need to lead the pack by example. We keep waiting for our neighbor to become open minded and expand his knowledge, while that wait cripples us farther. Is a tattoo, piercing, or bumper sticker stopping you from pulling up a bar stool and getting to know someone? The worst case scenario is that they in fact think or believe in something opposite of you. That long-haired tattooed man just may be the new pastor in town or the clean cut business suit sporting neighbor might be Jeffrey Dahmer in waiting. Our perceptions are often the dead leg that’s slowing us down in this business. To become successful in business or in your personal life then we have to challenge our own perspective first. Something in the universe triggered you to choose Angus over Brahman, Quarter Horse over Arabian, or Miller High Life over Busch. Did education and knowledge drive your choices? Or were your choices formed by people around you, your background, environment, or what the 8-ball said? When we understand what is driving our perspectives and our neighbor’s perspectives then we can effectively start to change some factors in our lives for the better. The cattle industry features some of the most intelligent minds in business and I am confidant if we pull up a bar stool to our adversaries, alliances can begin to form and we will not continue to be victims of circumstance.

As you find yourself driving down your own lost highway this week, decide whether you really would ride 100 miles with me to swap perspectives. Do not let the inherent fear of learning something new about yourself or other people limit you from discovering new ground.