Red Sky continued...

The first thing I heard was one of the main poles of the fly (tent) crashing down and hitting the stove.  I jumped up and went outside of our teepee and saw the side curtains standing straight out from where they were clipped on to the top sheet.  Wow, we are going to have a problem, I thought.  I put the pole back up and tightened the guy ropes and by this time the wind had increased to the point that the center pole and the wagon pole had already blown down again.  I hollered:  “Skip, I need some help out here” (Glenn stayed tucked in with the covers pulled up over his head).  Skip was already on his way, and together we just grabbed a piece of the tarp to try and hold it down till maybe the wind would let up a little bit. No such luck! Skip was holding on to the canvas fly and the wind was lifting the whole tent up and him as we;; off the ground.  All the time we were hoping to come out of this storm without too much damage.  We were quite busy trying to keep our “little home” together as best as we could and managed to get off a few quick prayers in hopes of getting some divine intervention.  We think the "call" went through because the wind didn't get any worse.

We looked up about this time and could barely see the moon, but it was full and red. By this time the tables, empty pans, serapes (we were using them for tablecloths), paper towels, pan liners and anything else that was the least bit light, had already blown away. 

Side curtains gone along with other stuff

 We were trying to keep the big canvas fly from completely blowing away by keeping the ropes holding it down tight.  The quick consensus was to take down the side curtains so the wind could blow under unobstructed, all the while trying to keep the main poles tight.  We began to see where the canvas was torn and where the poles had been punching holes in the top.  The end of the fly by the wagon was pretty much shredded. 

 

Glenn & I slept in the teepee on the left, Skip in the green tent ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,and the John Deere Wagon and camp fly.

We had gotten up so quickly that we didn’t put on any clothes, just boots.  So all we had on was our long underwear which wasn’t stopping much of the north wind.  I guess we were operating on adrenaline because it was probably two hours later when we finally got cold.  We fought the wind till around 3:30 or 4 am, when we decided it didn’t matter what we did, the wind was gong to do whatever it wanted to with our camp, regardless of our efforts.  We finally went to the “remuda” which is where we had our 300 horses and got inside.  We set there in a daze for what seemed like hours then it occurred to me that we had a heater in the pickup so  I asked Skip, “What do you think about a little heat”?  He said “That would be nice.” Then we cranked up the Silverado and finally got warm.

­

We sat in the pickup for the remainder of the night which was a couple of hours. Some time during that couple of hours Glenn got cold enough to join us and get warm.  I don’t know how he did it, but somehow Skip curled up on the floor behind the front seat.  How, I don’t know, since the back was full of food preparation items.   The fly measures 16’x24’ and this is what it looked like as the sun started to lighten up the night sky.

The red sky can be seen on the horizon. This was early morning and the wind still howling.

 Rusty, the outfitter, has an awning for the hunters like you would put out to park a vehicle under.  It is anchored to the ground with long spikes in the ground, and the wind had pulled them out of the ground about 12” and the whole thing would blow up to the end of the spike and bang then fall down and do the same thing again and again.  The hunters were out by the big fire pit until around 11 last evening, and when they went to bed they built the fire up really big for some reason, I guess to keep the lions away from the camp.  It evidently worked because not one lion was sighted.  The problem was the wind was blowing our way, the high winds carrying large embers through what remained of our camp.  If there was anything out in that country to burn, it would have caught on fire that night.

Glenn holding down the burrito while the horseshoes and bean paddle hold down the tortillas.

Around 5:30 am Eddie Goynes came around and tapped on the window and said, “Damn, that was quite a wind.” I had to agree.  The wind was still blowing around 35 mph. We waited till daylight before we got out of the pickup and put some clothes on and tried to put what was left of the canvas back up and get a fire built.  We still need to feed the hunters.  We got the camp somewhat put back together and got breakfast ready by around 9 am.  The wind was still blowing hard enough that we had to put horseshoes on the tortillas to keep them from blowing away.  We were glad to get the huevos con chorizo burritos ready because we were pretty hungry ourselves.  The wind was still blowing hard enough that I didn’t even attempt to put my contact lenses in until sometime in the evening.  We were hoping the wind would lay down by the evening, so we could cook the rib eye steaks on the grill outside the tent. We managed to fix up some sandwiches for lunch around 2:00 pm with Mother Nature still huffing and puffing.   

The wind began to calm a little, and this was about the time that we prepared and served a mesquite smoked brisket BBQ dinner with all the trimmings.  I remember it well because I couldn’t see a thing because I still had not put in my contact lenses.  I guess everything went well because we heard no complaints.  We finally got to enjoy the evening after the wind quit around 5:30 pm.

That evening when we got ready to climb into our cots, it was like sleeping on the ground because there was so much dirt and dust in everything.  But it was still a wonderful feeling to finally get some sleep.

To be continued...

Red Sky Over Alkali Flats

It was November 30, 2006 and the weather was unseasonably warm, well not all that uncommon for Terrell County in Southwest Texas, but it was around 70+ degrees Fahrenheit. My sidekick Skip “Chupa” Clark and I met my longtime friend Glenn Benson at the turn off the highway to Alkali Flats on the Jack Clarke Ranch, 13 miles South of Dryden, Texas. The turn to go to the ranch is on a road that locals call Smugglers Road. This 10,000 acre location was the site Rusty Reed, owner of Box R Outfitters, had set up for the Mule/Whitetail Deer Hunt.  Rusty hires us to bring our chuck wagon and cook for two separate groups of hunters on back to back week-ends. The first week-end is booked by a beer distributor who brings in 10-12 clients from all over the United States.  The second hunt is booked by individuals and typically come from all parts of Texas. These guys, and sometimes girls, are from all walks of life, and they love coming to this very remote part of the world located just a few short miles from the Rio Grande which separates the United States and Mexico.  

This it a view of the Box R on a little hill Southwest of the camp.

After traveling on the dirt road for a few minutes it was easily noticeable that it had not rained in this area in quite some time.  Overwhelming evidence was that the caliche dust was ankle deep along the road and the jack rabbits, what few there were, were doing a rain dance.  You could look in the rear view mirror and all you could see was a big white cloud of dust behind our truck and trailer.  Glenn had to follow almost a mile behind us to keep from eating dust. Most of the hunters had not arrived when we got to the site, so we were able to maneuver the chuck wagon with our 300 horses without a problem.  Once we decided on where the wagon was going to be placed we unhitched the horses and kept them in the remuda close to the wagon.  You never know when you might need the horses in the middle of the night. A considerable amount of time was spent unloading all the gear and getting everything in place to be ready to serve the hunters breakfast at 5:30 a.m..  We visited with Rusty and his brother Bill a while before setting up, and they informed us that the hunters were about the same bunch of fellows as last year with the exception of four new ones representing the big grocery chain, Raylee’s, in Albuquerque, New Mexico. 

Once the goods were unloaded we opened up the fly (tent) and drove stakes in the ground for the ropes and raised the center and end poles, using the block and tackle to tighten the center line rope that attaches to the front of the wagon.  The location of the fly is sitting on about two inches of calachi powder and just under surface are large limestone rocks which make for a very difficult time driving stakes driven in the ground.  We broke several in the process, and they are made of ¾” sucker rods.  Wayne Sutton, the local rancher, runs sheep on this land and has said that sometimes when building a fence they have to use dynamite to blast a hole for the fence posts.   I will have to keep that in mind so I can put dynamite on the grocery list for next year. 

Sleeping quarters on left and middle with big fly on right.

       

 Then came the heavy work of positioning the stove.  It is bottomless metal box which weigh about 600-700 lbs and has a stove pipe that goes through the top of the fly. The stove itself is like a regular old cook stove which has round cutouts on the top.  It provides us with a large cooking surface and supplies our “new” home with an ample source of heat.  Next, the side curtains were hung (which are actually the walls of our home) and make the cooking and day to day activities comfortable regardless of what the weather is doing outside.  Glenn is going on about we have enough stuff to stay six months, and he is sure there is no way we could have left anything behind.

The Stove!

 Rusty Reed, the outfitter, promised us wood so we wouldn’t have to bring any from home because of the space it takes to carry enough wood for eight days.  We went to the big pile they have stacked over by the hunter’s conversation pit(which is really the place they hang out and drink beer and whiskey) and loaded up enough to last us for the first three to four days.  There was a little one legged bird that hung around the camp for two days.  We considered him our “watch bird” and left him plenty to eat and drink.   I’m sure he has an interesting story as to why he only has one leg.  He told us all about the leg problem and what was going on in his life, all of which we didn’t understand because no one spoke One legged, Yellow Breasted,  Black Bird language.   It didn’t seem to bother him too much that we didn’t speak his language because he kept telling us the same story over and over again 

One Legged Yellow Breasted Blak "Watch" Bird

Everything in place, it was now time to stir up something for supper.  This fine meal consisted of ham and cheese quesadillas because we were only cooking for ourselves. Cooking for the others didn’t start until the morning.   We were plenty hungry by this time and anything would have tasted good.  We got into our bedrolls about 9 pm so we could get some rest before getting up a bit after 4 am to began breakfast preparations and have a meal ready for the hunters by 5:30.  It was a little hard for me to go to sleep, but I finally dozed off.  It was only a little while later, at 12:29 to be exact, when the wind started.  Usually wind will sort of creep up on you and get more intense as the “front” moves in.  Well, not this one. The first wind was around 50 mph and gusted to 60 mph.

 

 To be continued......

In the beginning............

I started a blog a couple of years ago, and the first entry was about what to consider when building a chuck box for a 19th century mule drawn farm wagon.  I thought it was pretty cute.  Well, I didn't have anyone look at it, like forever, so eventually I quit looking at in and consequently I lost track of it.

 I have been doing the "chuck wagon" thing for about fifteen years.  You might ask, "what is a "chuck wagon" thing.  Well, in my case, "it" got started  when I attended a chuck wagon competition in Glencoe, New Mexico and was completely captivated with all that was going on.  Linda, my wife, and I enjoyed the outdoor setting, and I especially loved all of the accoutrements within the setting.  I had purchased meal tickets to eat with one of the wagons that just happened to belong to Richard Farnsworth, the actor.  He had a crew that I came to know (later) consisting of a now local merchant, Bud Reno, and others.  They served up a pretty darn good meal, and I was being slowly drawn into this display of western heritage.  I knew that I had a lot of what was utilized on a chuck wagon because of the hoarding over the years of things that belonged to my grandfather, father, mother, relatives and such.  I looked at this like it was a  living working mobile museum that displayed so many things and activities.....that I was pretty much hooked.  I think I said to myself "I can do this," but I knew that, alone, it would be an impossible undertaking. What competing requires in a chuck wagon competition is a "team"  to prepare usually five dishes to be judged. Additionally the wagon and camp are judged for authenticity.  With this in mind I felt I might, mind you, might...be able to enlist the help of my long time friend Skip Clark to embark on this adventure with me.  I felt the two of us had other things we did together such as building and driving dune buggies, playing music, and probably some other things that have long since been forgotten.  I knew, for sure, Linda wasn't interested in this line of  "work" so I told Skip about the experience at Glencoe and shared pictures with him  A year later, his wife Patty and Linda and myself attended the same event in the same location, with meal tickets in hand, with the idea in mind to see if Skip would be as excited about it as I was the year before.  After quite some time looking around and me taking what seemed like hundreds of pictures, we were sitting on hay bales having our lunch at the Palo Duro wagon of Jim Shirley when I asked Skip, "What do you think? Can we do this"? His response was "We can do this".  Now this is the way I remember it but Skip may tell a different story. 

After I returned home I spent hours upon hours looking at specifics of the pictures I had taken while Skip did research on various libraries around the state so see what old chuck wagon pictures existed.  I also spent a lot of time on the phone with John Wolf, wagon builder from New Mexico.  He gave me innumerable pointers and assistance in getting started.  John was won of the first chuck wagon competition organizers and helped to write many of the rules that exist today.  The die had been cast. Now it was time to embark upon finding a wagon and getting it competition ready.  Also there was the small item of cooking.....Ah yes, cooking, we would have to cook some 40-50 meals and prepare the five entry items for the judges and this must be all done for the judges and public by 11:30 am or noon.  I have had experience cooking at home using cast iron pots on the stove but not Dutch ovens. I figured a little common sense goes a long way. I did find that common sense only goes so far then you need to know what the heck you are doing, to say nothing about recipes that will be used.  

I discovered that Bobby Newton did a newspaper that revolved about chuck wagons, cooking, music, western vendors etc., so I obtained a recent addition and low and behold there was a somewhat obscure picture of someone named Eddie Sandoval cooking at a chuck wagon.  Nay, it couldn't be the guy I ran around with at Sul Ross College.  That would be to much of a coincidence.  After all, I had not seen him, at that time, in over thirty years.  I called Bobby Newton and asked if he knew this guy Eddie.  Bobby was certainly helpful giving me his number etc., and told me that indeed he went to school at Sul Ross. 

You have to understand that every time Eddie and I would call each other over the phone he would do a low growl and I would do the same.  It was something that he did in the cafeteria when a girl would walk by.  He would do the low deep growl then a very realistic bark, thus scaring the "lost" freshmen.  Well after all this time I called Eddie and a very professional person on the line at Tarrant College answered and I barked at him.....he returned the bark and after thirty years we were reunited.

This blog will have no-telling-what on it.  I have a few stories that I have written that relate to the chuck wagon and some that are on the peripheral of the subject.  Maybe some of you will enjoy them.  Linda and I are also writing our second book called Forts, Farbs, and Phantoms.  The first book was/is Rails, Robbers, and Wraiths. We thought we would do a little blogging and now and then plug in some of the stories to see if they gain any interest on the part of the readers.  More about them later.

The first blog I am going to write about is something that I have been doing for a number of years with my friend Jamie Cardwell.  After I got my chuck wagon going I started doing the catering by myself and went a separate direction than the one Jamie was/is doing.  He specifically does BBQ catering and I do the same sort of thing only I do it utilizing the chuck wagon in the style of the 1880's.  I even have a 1927 Model TT Ford that I turned into a chuck wagon that I also cater with.  But I digress, the first blog involves a catering job for  Box R Outfitters out of Cross Plains, Texas.  The outfitter, Rusty Reed hired us to do a job down close to the Rio Grande.  There were a few hiccups in doing the job and here is the account of that adventure.....well, it will actually begin on my next post.  I am trying to figure out how often to do this posting business, so bear with me a while till I get the hang of it.