Flaxsy
Born to Buck
When I came to work at Pine Creek Ranch in Nevada, I had a little sorrel horse in my string. Now this horse could buck, I mean to tell you this guy liked to buck and was good at it.
I came to learn real fast that it was best not to drink too much beer the night before you were going to ride this horse and not too much coffee that morning. Every time you got on him you could be sure he was going to try you and it didn't matter if it was the first thing in the morning or last thing at night and quite often any other time in between. I guess what I'm trying to convey here is that it was always a good idea to be on your toes while riding this Cayuse.
Now don't get me wrong except for that trait mentioned above he was a good enough horse. You could rope anything off of him and be real confident you were sure enough a horse back when you did. Well one morning I was going to use this horse to make a long circle starting out from the headquarters so I decide to get on him in the round corral, getting a hold of the cheek strap and getting his head pulled around so as he couldn't do much other then turn a tight circle as I got on I went to mound. As I did he jerked his head away and with me half way on took a great big long jump and rammed his head right into a post. Well he fell back on his hunches and rolled over on his side and lay there quivering with me having one leg pinned under him. A couple of the other hands got him pulled off of me and we set to waiting to see if he was going to lay right there and died or if he would get up. At that time I wasn't so sure I care what he did. He had knocked a hole in his forehead that was just about as big as a golf ball and was bleeding pretty good but he did getup.
About that time the boss showed up and asked what had happened and after telling him I figured on caching up another horse to ride that day but the boss said it served him right and to ride him anyway. Bleeding the way he was I didn't think he make half the day but he was still going strong at the end of the day. What's that old saying? You can only kill the good ones.
I rode that horse for a couple of more months and never any more buck in him. The hole in his skull healed up though he did have a pretty good dent there I figured all his brains hadn't leak out cuss he still was a darn good cow horse.
There is another old saying and that is, the calm before the storm. One day I'm out riding this old horse with no buck in him, pretty relaxed him and I when I got off him to look at an old bottle laying there on the ground. An old milk bottle shaded purple by the sun and in perfect shape. Thinking that sure is a lucky find I hops back on this old broke horse without even gathering up the reins when the storm broke loose and left me standing on my head with a broken milk bottle to boot. When my vision finally cleared there he was just standing there looking at me as if to say Told you I get you sooner or later.
Now it was getting on toward the time for high school rodeo to start and some boys that knew Mr. Hage might have some practice horses for them came by to ask what might be had. So he asked me what I thought about letting them buck Flaxsy out. Ought to be fun was my response. So come the following Saturday we hauled him to town. With them boys strutting around for the girls. I hear them saying well find out if this horse can buck or not. Well he didn't disappoint me, four boys tried him one after the other and old Flaxsy nailed them each.
Now some horses are born to buck and the best thing to do with them is just that, let them buck. Mr. Hage hauled him over to Fallon Nevada were they were having a bucking horse sale. Mr. Rodeo, as he was called, Cotton Rosser bought Flaxsy and he ended up making it to the national finals three times as a bare back bucking horse.
You know, I'd just about bet that God likes a good rodeo, and it wouldn't surprise me a bit to see old flaxsy bucking up yonder in the hereafter.
Authors note
After I quit high school in the eleventh year, my dad saw an opportunity to send me up to Oregon to work on a friend's ranch, getting me out of California were I had quite a reputation of a trouble maker. Yet those who know me well would know I was lying if I tried to tell anyone that was the end to my trouble making. We won't go in to that though, yes I think some stories are better left untold.
It was the start of several years of working some of the biggest and best ranches in the western United States. Getting to know some of the best people you would ever want to know and a few of the worst. I have to add here that dealing with all the horses good and bad has given me experiences I would not have wanted to miss. Yet some of them still make me wonder how I and others have lived though them. Yes I am still alive at the time of printing of my little book much to some people's disgust; hopefully not to all though. If you have a moment, give it a read. I hope it gives a smile to all that do.
For a complete copy of 12 stories contact Rocking MB or send $10.00 to Rocking MB @ HC33 Box 33505, Ely, NV 89301.
Martin R. Troutt