Welcome to
Gate Farm Home of
"Diamond C
Montana Jack"
Leslie Heulitt
HC 78 Box 27
Rock Cave, West Virginia 26234
304-924-6176
e-mail to:
montanasmama@hughes.net
|
Welcome to |
|
(Submitted
to Western Mule Mag.) WHAT
I DID ON MY SUMMER VACATION IN 1998 Well,
it was off to Shelbyville, TN again for the Great Celebration Mule and Donkey
Show. Always have said that my idea
of camping out was an air conditioned room at the Holiday Inn.
Last year I had so much fun living in my trailer promoting my Ass I
decided to make at least the Shelbyville show an annual tradition.
Being a nester at heart, creature of comfort, I got this camping stuff
together fast! You know, like you
take everything from the bathroom, (including most of the towels and washcloths)
all of your clothes (enough to outfit the Rockettes for a week) tea pot, table,
full length mirrors, 2 fans (for me and Montana) and the adapter for an
extension cord so you CAN plug into the campground 'lectric this time!
Montana has his own "stuff"; feed, hay, bedding, extra H2O,
shampoo, creme rinse (I use Suave - he gets the good stuff- Mane & Tail),
fly spray, Show Sheen, stuff, stuff, stuff, and enough tack for a herd of
donkeys! This year we didn't forget
the hose, tools or tarps either! This
year we were sporting new custom made show clothes, a jacket and vest lovingly
made by Jan Hefner, new hats from Luskey Ryons of Texas and were hoping to find
a show halter that fits Montana at Bedford Tack down in TN.
(We did.) This
trip started out a little differently from most of my road trips.
Usually I get really, really far from home before having any trouble.
Two days before I'm leaving, the thunderstorms roll in and knock out the
phone and 'lectric. This isn't
really a MAJOR inconvenience here on the hillside since I have gas for cooking
and gravity fed spring water. All
packed and ready to go, I'm as excited as a kid on Christmas Eve.
This year I'm going for a whole week and getting to do all the neat stuff
I didn't get to do last year. Didn't
think I'd ever go to sleep - yeah right - slept so good I didn't even hear a
major storm blow through that knocked enough lumber out of my maple trees to do
$1,700.00 worth of damage to my truck. The
hood, roof and door look like they were worked over by some maniac with a
hammer! It's a miracle no glass was
broken. Throw the branches over the
hill and I'm outta here. At
this point we still have no 'lectric or phone but hell! that's Bev's problem
now! First stop (30 miles into the
trip) is Dave Hefner's to settle up my trimming bill before I leave.
Of course Dave isn't home and I manage to put ruts in the lawn on both
sides of the driveway trying to turn my little rig around.
Surprise Dave, that was me! Next
stop, two miles - Go Mart - to ice up coolers and get gas.
While I'm there I decide to check air in all tires before getting on the
Interstate. What a good girl, huh?
Pull to the air hose and lock myself out of the truck.
Keys, bag, money in the truck, me on the pavement and blond.
SHOOT! Now not having a
phone at home HAS become a problem; can't call home for extra keys!
In this day and age one can no longer get a kindly member of the local
constabulary to come out and get you unlocked.
You call the nearest wrecker service.
They all "specialize" in getting you unlocked.
Luckily, I had some change in my pocket, made the call, explained to the
gal my Jack would cook quickly in the trailer if the sun came out, then sat and
waited. A mere 20 minutes and
$20.00 later I was back in. Cheap
at the price and they helped me air up the tires too! Gassed
up, iced up, unlocked and aired up, am finally on the Interstate which is to be
my home for the next day. About
halfway there, the truck starts to lose power on the hills.
Next, it's running rough and the "check engine soon" light
comes on. !!XX**!!,
I think, since the GMC is sporting a new engine, new rear end and everything
had been checked out for this trip! As
an extra precaution, I had hooked up the trailer for a test run; 50 hard
mountain miles on narrow back roads, then onto the Interstate where I ran her
'til her tongue hung out. Yeah
boy!! This was going to be the road
trip with no mechanical problems! The
GMC was runnin' sweet, lots of power and purring like a kitten!
But, that was then and this is now.
It's gettin' onto the wee hours of the mornin'; find a rest area.
Settle Montana down for the night and go to sleep hoping my new engine
just needed an adjustment or two and with my usual good trip karma, I would make
it home where my ace mechanic, Rosco, would put things right with a little
mechanical massage. It's up early
since one cannot sleep late in the nose of a steel trailer once the sun comes
up. Montana gets breakfast while I
hunker down to have a quart of cold tea and ˝ dozen cigarettes; my morning
prescription for starting the day. Montie
gets his walk - about now, always creating a sensation and being a wonderful
ambassador for the breed. Back
on the road with the worst of the mountains behind us, I opt to take the
secondary roads into Shelbyville, taking it easy on the truck while getting to
gawk at all the nice farms. Getting
to the Celebration was like coming home. Knew
where my barn and stall were, knew lots of people, met lots more while
unpacking, settling Montana in and getting my tack stall lined out.
By late afternoon, all was unpacked, trailer cleaned out and scrubbed,
and camp set up with (almost) all the comforts of home.
This was Tuesday and things were still quiet.
Settled Montie in and went to bed fairly early.
Wednesday, things were getting a little more lively.
Got to meet several of the folks we had shipped semen to and Anita and
Brad Flick. Anita and I had talked
on the phone and hit it right off in person.
Anita took up the position of "groom" and, bless her heart,
helped me get through those Godawful early morning classes.
Among other things, she packed hoses and shampoo, "poofed"
powder, polished hooves, carried my cigarettes, buttoned my tuxedo shirt and
generally made herself indispensable. Wednesday
was a play day. Anita, Brad and I
took off for Bedford Tack. What a
place!! There is nothing like that
around here. Found a silver show
halter that fits Montana to a "T".
Then off to Bill Moore's Stepping Out Farm's open house, ending the day
at the Carolina Mule Association's Ice Cream Social. Early
Thursday morning with Anita's help (not a morning person am I), we're looking
sharp for the A.D.M.S. Reg. Jacks to Halter, all sizes class.
The judge doesn't even look at Montana!
I'm crushed!! This is a new
experience for me, not even placing! Friday
morning, Linda Osland takes Montie into the trail class - cold - hadn't even
saddled the Fat Boy for 6 months. Montie
was good but didn't stand a chance against all the well trained donkeys that had
been being ridden. Back to the wash
rack to scrub the saddle marks off and get dressed for Standard Jacks to Halter.
Montie was on his best behavior this year and was not dragging me around
the Arena. It was a big class and
we were #1 which meant a long time standing squared up.
I was amazed the Fat Boy stood like a rock on a loose lead.
Placed 2nd; was elated! One
more class to go. Color - Mules and
Donkeys. This was another big
class. The arena was full of the
fanciest colored up mules and donkeys a body could ever want to see being judged
by the same judge that didn't even look at Montana in the A.D.M.S. jack class!
Montie still being calm on a loose lead.
When the class is called, we're #1!!
Montie is sporting a blue ribbon and I'm in tears!
This is heady stuff; a first and second place.
I can see how a person with a competitive nature that likes to get up
early could really get into this showing stuff.
I abhor getting up early and am too lazy to be competitive so am just
happy this is my last class and we did well. Friday
night I did get to see some classes and sat through most of the sale Saturday
morning. My thoughts were turning
towards home and wondering if I would make it.
Wanted to leave Saturday evening, drive 6 or 7 hours, crash out and make
it home Sunday afternoon. My
neighbors in the next barn, Tim and Bonnie Garey, mentioned they met a family
from West Virginia who had bought a mule and needed her hauled home.
Had kind of been waiting for these people to show up.
By late afternoon I was itching to be on the road and so broke camp,
hooked up the trailer and started to pack.
Just about when I had gotten the last few things stowed away, along came
Skip and Robin Rowan and their two girls; the people who needed their mule
hauled home. Out of the front of
the trailer comes all my camping stuff. Some
gets shoved up in the nose, leaving me just enough room to crawl into bed, the
rest divided between their van and the cab and bed of my truck.
I get their names and hotel room number and assure them I have a bag of
change to call in case of trouble. Load
Montie up front because he won't bother me while I'm sleeping and the molly mule
in the back. I'm primed to go now. It's
dark and cool enough to leave the "kids" in the trailer while I
indulge myself in a served to me, sit down, air conditioned, fly free dinner at
Red Lobster, 20 miles or so down the road.
Am about 5 miles from the restaurant when sticky fluid starts spraying
out from under the hood, all over the windshield and passenger side window.
Truck is running okay. All
gauges and fluids fine. "What
now?", I think, turn around and head back to the Celebration, foregoing
dinner in the hopes I will find help back at the barns.
The place is almost deserted! That's
when I realize my bag of phone change is in Rowan's van!
Have to borrow change from Rickie Davidson, then a halter to unload the
mule. Get her and Montana settled
in their stalls and am leaning on a van telling Tim Garey I've got to find out
what is wrong with the truck and got to contact the Rowan's and tell them we are
back at the barn. Not even
realizing I was leaning on the Rowan's van with all my stuff in it!!
That's when I realized I was too tired to drive and maybe a Higher Power
had tweaked my life a little. Someone
rustles up a mechanically inclined man who tells me that it's just freon and my
air conditioner is blown. Well, the
Rowans show up for their van and plans were made to leave together in the
morning. My missed dinner was
provided by Karen Combs; peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with chips and a big
glass of milk! Bless your heart, Karen! I sure was hungry! Slept right at the
barns! Sunday
morning the Rowans patiently waited the 45 minutes of tea drinking and cigarette
smoking it took for me to reach "ready to go" and we were off on the
trailer trip from hell about 9:30 a.m. It
was bad enough not having any AC, but then the trailer brake lights went, then
the signal lights went then the brake lights on the truck went.
After dark the Rowan's stayed on my tail.
Told Skip if the headlights go, I'm pulling over!
Sixteen hours later we were pulling into the farm.
I was home but the poor Rowans had another hour to go.
To end this on a high note, the AC started working on its own a week
later!? The GMC was sent with Rosco
to the Chevy garage to be plugged into the computer.
There the GMC was, hooked up to a $30,0000 computer with Rosco and two
other mechanics running the diagnostics. The
print out says "check knock sensor".
And how do you do that? You
peck on the block next to it with a hammer!
Go Figger!! Replaced the
knock sensor and hoped my next road trip would be uneventful.
Well, it wasn't, but that's another story!
From the other side of the mountain,
Leslie and Montana 8/17/98
- Submitted to
|
|
|
