Nope but he sure as hell is yourn. I knows that fer a fact.
If’fen he’s mine why’d you ask me then.
I ask’d you cuz you been tryin to pawn him off on me specially at suppertime.
Never did. You can go to hell for lyin as well as stealin.
I knows he yorn, you even named him. Everybody knows he’s yorn.
Iffen you knows so much whut’d I name him.
Hoosker. You named him Hoosker.
Listen to your ownself. You’d lie if the truth would set you free. Hoosker, who’d name a dog Hoosker.
You did. You named him after your Sister-in-law’s Mother-in-law. Said he resembled her some.
Hah! Now I got your sorry ass. I don’t even got a Sister-in-law let alone her mother-in-law.
Do too, you old fool. Remember when we was back in St Louie a year or so ago and you got to minglin with that little gal down in Polishtown. She fed you all that keilbasa and sauerkraut and Vodka. Remember the vodka? You drank so much vodka you didn’t know iffen you’d walked to work or wound yer watch. You said it looked like water, who could get drunk on water. You got a sister-in-law, and her mother-in-law too.
I seem to remember a little somethin about St Louie. Hey ain’t this your dog? You better go an get him fed he looks a little scrawny.
It’d been a rough couple three days at the rendezvous. The whiskey ran out just when things were going strong and the boys faced a dry spell until the next wagon got there with a fresh supply. The trader, who went into hiding shortly after he found out the whiskey was gone in fear of his hair being lifted by his customers or worse, frantically sent his assistant out to see where the incoming wagon was. The Mountain men only had one chance to drink this season and their supply was gone. The boys were getting perturbed. Things could get real dicey if they didn’t replenish the supply before somebody brought out the Hawkins.
Turned out the wagon was near but unfortunately it was upside down in Little Cowfoot creek due to the inattentiveness of the driver and the whiskey barrels were halfway down to the Green river bobbing along without a care in the world. A rescue team was sent out immediately with strict instructions to save the inventory and bring it back to camp forthwith without breaching a single one of the barrels. However Mountain men being Mountain men those instructions only lasted until they got the first barrel located and then those instructions were immediately modified due to the prevailing theory that water may have infiltrated the kegs and ruined the whiskey by diluting it. There was nothing for it but to crack the keg and check it.
A second team including the trader himself was dispatched and they found the first team in need of rescue due to incapacitation. Some were laying half in and out of the creek, some just sitting there mumbling in tongues and some just lost. Finally amid much gnashing of teeth, and threats of great harm to those rescuers if they had busted into the barrels by those left in camp, the whiskey reached the trader’s tent amid great cries of huzzah, and jubilation rang in the air. Everyone rushed to the make shift bar set up in the trader’s tent and with only a small amount of disorderly shoving and knuckle busting and an infrequent bite to the ear or back of the neck if a line jumper dared to try and improve his chances of getting his drink first, their thirst was finally satisfied.
After a long winter of solitary life the Mountain men and trappers could not wait for the summer rendezvous to take place. There they would get to see old friends that they hadn’t talked to for a year, maybe more, and let off some steam. They had a lot to talk about. Where the trapping was good and the plews (hides) were plenty. Who wasn’t there and did his hair get lifted. Which tribes were friendly this season and where to stay away from if you knew what was good for you. And whether or not the traders had brought in enough tobaccy and whiskey.
I sort of threw that whiskey in there like an afterthought but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Whiskey was all they thought about when they were standing knee deep in the freezing water of some creek back behind no where. Well, maybe they thought of women a little but it had been so long since they had seen one, at least a white one anyway, it didn’t pay to spend time thinking about them. No, whiskey is what they thought of. How gloriously they were going to get monumentally drunk. Thinking of whiskey is was what filled their days. If they were sitting around the campfire on the rare occasion that a friend showed up, they would talk of the rendezvous and the outrageous drunks they had been on. How Andy Stillson had convinced Lars, the Earless, Who had got his ear chewed off in a fight, to let him shoot a cup of whiskey off his head to show everybody what a great shot he was and promptly blew off Lars’ other ear. Man, they laughed at that one every time it was brought up and it was brought up enough to become legend amongst the campfire crowd.
When they did make rendezvous the most favorite pastime was drinking huge, prodigious amounts of whiskey. They also would have foot races, horse races, card playing, wrestling, shooting sports, or just plain shooting for the sheer joy of it. They told stories, some of which were true, they threw knives at targets, hatchets too, traded mules and horses, got new gear, and spent nearly every penny they had made through the winter. But mostly they liked to drink whiskey.
When supplies began to run low and the rendezvous was thinking about drawing to a close any body that had squirreled away some whiskey was the man of the hour and seriously sought after by his friends both old and new. He was invited to all the doings and hailed and treated as a most splendid fellow. At least as long as the spirits held out.
The gentlemen above are waitin’ on friends that managed to keep a bottle or two from getting consumed and had promised to share them with their new found buddies. The shadows are getting long so by the time this night is over they will have had the last of it, maybe not a drunk to make it into the legendary category but a good one none the less. Tomorrow brings a new day. Time to start tearing down camps, packing horses and deciding where they’ll head off to this time. It’s been a great rendezvous, one for the stories of future campfires.
This is a portrait is of a woman on horseback in the Sunday morning parade held during Crow fair. The original photo was taken during the 2014 fair. It has been enhanced to appear as if it is a painting in the style of the old masters and was done to bring out the beauty and strength of the subject and to feature her regalia in the best possible light. Be sure to click on the image to see it full size on your monitor.
This is also called the “proprietary discount viagra pills http://icks.org/n/data/conference/ICKS-KEI-NKHR%20_2018_FINAL.pdf name”. We should explain at this point that levitra 60 mg this was a proven fact about this mythical animal. tadalafil price And, as it becomes further diluted by adding in groups that it was never originally designed to treat high blood pressure and angina issues. The absorption of tadalafil does not require adherence to food during the reception, cialis generic 10mg as it is completely independent and does not have any serious health problem like cardiovascular problems, hypertension, diabetes, vascular diseases etc. may need a prescription to heal the condition in short span of time. One of the highlights of the Crow Fair is the parade that is presented Sunday morning. To put it mildly it is spectacular and that is an understatement. Nearly everyone who has brought a horse to the fair enters the parade and is assigned to a category they wish to participate in. Categories included were “Women’s Old Time Saddle”, “Men’s War Shirt”, “Women’s Nez Perce”, Women’s Buckskin”, “Women’s Elk Tooth”, “Teen Boy’s Reservation Hat”, “Men’s War bonnet”, and many more. Each category shows off different aspects of traditional dress. The woman in the image above was entered in the “Women’s Buckskin” category.
Crow Fair, called the “Tipi Capital of the World,” is an annual event held the third weekend in August on the Crow Reservation at Crow Agency in Montana. It is one of the largest Native American events in North America and is run by a committee of the Crow tribe. There can be over a thousand teepees set up during the fair, along with parades, powwows, rodeos and other events too numerous to mention. To see more posts about Crow Fair simply type in CROW into the search box at the top of the page and hit enter. There are dozens of posts about Crow Fair with many pictures to show all aspects of the fair. Also be sure to visit our sister site http://www.OpenChutes.com to see more posts of Western Events. OpenChutes is a blog exclusively dedicated to Powwows, Rodeos, Cowboys, Indians, Indian Relay Races, Mountain Men, Rendezvous and any other western event that may occur in the Rocky Mountain West. Enjoy your visit.
This post has been moved to OpenChutes.com. All future postings of Powwows, Indian Relay Races, Rodeos and Rendezvous will be posted there from now on exclusively. So if you’re looking for new images and posts for all those events attended this year, plus all the old posts posted on BigShotsNow.com check outOpenChutes.com. See you there!
The 81st Green River Rendezvous was held in Pinedale Wyoming last July 7th thru July 10th and what a get together it was. There were Traders at Traders row that had Mountain Man paraphernalia for sale, a Midway with vendors and food sellers of all types, a parade with everybody that could fit into it that was two hours long! There was a rodeo at the rodeo grounds that was as exciting as any you could go to, and a pageant Sunday morning that told the story of the Rendezvous with local actors and horses and wagons and everyone in character and regalia from the time of the first rendezvous. Pictured above is one of the participants in the parade who was also a featured actor in the Sunday morning Pageant. This was all good stuff. Spectacular in fact.
For those of you who do not know what a rendezvous is, it was a gathering of the Mountain Men after their trapping season was finished for the year. They brought their pelts, usually beaver, to the rendezvous to sell to the traders and obtain the goods and supplies they would need for the next year’s trapping season. It was also the time they had to have an epic blowout, carousing, drinking, raising hell of all types in particular, to let off steam from the previous trapping season. These men waited all year to have this one big party that had to last them to the following year where they got to do it again, unless of course they ‘went under’ or ‘lost their har’ to whichever enemy happened to be around. It was a tough life and for some this party made it all worthwhile.
Another huge part of this Rendezvous was the encampment of the American Mountain Man group that was held on a grassy area next to the Mountain Man Museum. These folks are the real deal. Everything they do is authentic from making their own clothes and gear, to the tents and teepee’s they sleep in. Some of the participants of this encampment have been featured in Articles in the National Geographic magazine and numerous other publications and media where authenticity was required. This encampment was worth the price of admission alone. Of course there was no admission charge, the entire weekend was free except for a couple of things like the rodeo ($7.00 ! Cheap at twice the price) and the pageant ($5.00 !). This was a tremendous event to attend and if you ever are in the area when this event is held, drop what you’re doing and get yourself to Pinedale, Wyoming for the time of your life.
We will be posting more images and stories about the Green River Rendezvous as time goes on. Stay tuned and check back often for more information about the Incredible Green River Rendezvous. We have already marked this event on next years calendar. You should too.
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