Poncho
CONGRATULATIONS Chad and Ginger Rasmussen family, Rock Rapids, Iowa on your purchase!!! 2002 Grade POA gelding. Poncho is a well broke pony. He's fun to ride on trails and stands 14.1 hands.
Redfords Blue Dude # 850364
CONGRATULATIONS Chenice Anderson, Audubon, IA on your purchase of this nice gelding. 2005 APHA Blue roan gelding Rodan Redford x Ms Vanzi McCue. Nice blue gelding. Had a rope thrown off him and roping the "Hot Heels."
Floyd River Deuce # 677,186
CONGRATULATIONS Chris and Mike Scourfield, Midlothian, Texas on your second purchase from us. 2002 APHA Black overo gelding. Stormy Pine McCue x Midnight Roper. Deuce has been ridden in the Black Hills and also in the Missouri riverbreaks. He's had a rope thrown off of him and roped a mechanical calf. He is a grandson of King Stormy McCue.
2006 ApHC Appaloosa gelding. Wyatt is well broke and loves trail rides. $2000 Hey Look At Me Now # 642578
2005 ApHC Appaloosa gelding. Four Wheeler PR x Sully Cool Ann. "Hobo" is a neat young gelding. He absolutely loves going on trail rides and is very honest and willing. Check out his pattern - he is unique. $1950 Layla
2005 Grade POA mare. Layla stands 14.2 hands and is a nice friendly little mare. She is no speedball but likes going out on trails and crosses water like a pro. $1650 Liz Two ID Bartender
AQHA 1999 Blue Roan mare. Bartenders Buckeye x Kila Kim. Liz was ridden by kids and then was a broodmare for a time. She is a bit rusty about being ridden but coming along well under saddle. She is a granddaughter of Two ID Bartender. DNA typed. $1650 Docs Foxy Blondie # 4003721
2000 AQHA Palomino mare. Blondie is 10 years old and belonged to a good friend and neighbor who passed away in December. She was ridden in a feedlot for 60 days as a three year old. I need to put some more time on her before I price her for sale.
Redfords Dude # 836610
2005 APHA Bay solid gelding. Rodan Redford X Maudie McCue. He's a really nice young gelding. Calm, honest and easy going. He stands 15.2 hands and is sure to get taller. He enjoys trail rides and is easy to catch. $1750 Salty Kas # T-47659
Salty Kas-To-Wyn x Boot Hills Tet Ladie. Salty is a three year old registered POA gelding. He has had 50 days of professional training. He rides well alone or with others. He's been ridden at the salebarn moving cattle. Sidepasses well to open gates. He's roped a mechanical calf. He's quick and athletic. Rides well on trail rides. Not suitable for beginners. $1000 I RIDE
> I ride. That seems like such a simple statement. However as many women
> who ride know... it is really a complicated matter. It has to do with power and
> empowerment; being able to do things you might once have considered out of
> reach or ability. I have considered this as I shovel manure, fill water in the
> cold rain, wait for the vet/farrier/electrician/hay delivery, change a tire on
> a horse trailer by the side of the freeway, or cool a gelding out before
> getting down to the business of drinking a cold drink after a long ride.
> The time, the money, the effort it takes to ride calls for dedication. At
> least, I call it dedication. Both my ex-husbands call it 'a sickness.'
> It's a nice sickness I've had since I was a small girl bouncing my
> plastic model horses and dreaming of the day I would ride a real horse. Most of
> the women I ride with understand that meaning of 'the sickness.' It's not a
> sport. It's not a hobby. It's what we do and-- in some ways-- who we are as
> women and human beings.
> I ride. I hook up my trailer and load my gelding. I haul to some nice
> trailhead somewhere, unload, saddle up, whistle up my dog and I ride. I breathe
> in the air, watch the sunlight filter through the trees and savour the movement
> of my horse. My shoulders relax. A smile spreads across my weathered face. I
> pull my floppy hat down and let the real world fade into the tracks my horse
> leaves in the sand.
> Time slows. Flying insects buzz loudly, looking like fairies. My gelding
> flicks his ears and moves down the trail. I can smell his sweat and it is
> perfume to my senses. Time slows. The rhythm of his walk and the movement of
> the leaves become my focus. My saddle creaks and the leather rein in my hand
> softens with the warmth.
> I consider the simple statement: I ride. I think of all I do because I
> ride. Climb rocky slopes, wade into a lily-pad lake, race a friend across the
> hayfield... all the while laughing and feeling my heart in my chest. Other days
> just the act of mounting and dismounting can be a real accomplishment. Still I
> ride, no matter how tired or how much my sitter bones or any of my other
> acquired horse-related injuries hurt. I ride. And I feel a lot better for doing
> so.
> I think of the people, mostly women, that I've met. I consider how
> competent they all are. Not a weenie in the bunch. We haul 40 ft. rigs, we
> back 'em up into tight spaces without clipping a tree. We set up camp, tend the
> horses. We cook and keep our camp neat. We understand and love our companion--,
> our horses. We respect each other and those we encounter on the trail. We know
> that if you are out there riding, you also shovel, fill, bathe, wait and
> doctor. Your hands are a little rough and you travel without makeup or hair
> gel. You do without to afford the 'sickness' and probably, when you were a
> small girl, you bounced a little model horse while you dreamed of riding a real
> one.
>
> "My treasures do not chink or glitter, they gleam in the sun and neigh in
> the night!
>
> I ride. That seems like such a simple statement. However as many women
> who ride know... it is really a complicated matter. It has to do with power and
> empowerment; being able to do things you might once have considered out of
> reach or ability. I have considered this as I shovel manure, fill water in the
> cold rain, wait for the vet/farrier/electrician/hay delivery, change a tire on
> a horse trailer by the side of the freeway, or cool a gelding out before
> getting down to the business of drinking a cold drink after a long ride.
> The time, the money, the effort it takes to ride calls for dedication. At
> least, I call it dedication. Both my ex-husbands call it 'a sickness.'
> It's a nice sickness I've had since I was a small girl bouncing my
> plastic model horses and dreaming of the day I would ride a real horse. Most of
> the women I ride with understand that meaning of 'the sickness.' It's not a
> sport. It's not a hobby. It's what we do and-- in some ways-- who we are as
> women and human beings.
> I ride. I hook up my trailer and load my gelding. I haul to some nice
> trailhead somewhere, unload, saddle up, whistle up my dog and I ride. I breathe
> in the air, watch the sunlight filter through the trees and savour the movement
> of my horse. My shoulders relax. A smile spreads across my weathered face. I
> pull my floppy hat down and let the real world fade into the tracks my horse
> leaves in the sand.
> Time slows. Flying insects buzz loudly, looking like fairies. My gelding
> flicks his ears and moves down the trail. I can smell his sweat and it is
> perfume to my senses. Time slows. The rhythm of his walk and the movement of
> the leaves become my focus. My saddle creaks and the leather rein in my hand
> softens with the warmth.
> I consider the simple statement: I ride. I think of all I do because I
> ride. Climb rocky slopes, wade into a lily-pad lake, race a friend across the
> hayfield... all the while laughing and feeling my heart in my chest. Other days
> just the act of mounting and dismounting can be a real accomplishment. Still I
> ride, no matter how tired or how much my sitter bones or any of my other
> acquired horse-related injuries hurt. I ride. And I feel a lot better for doing
> so.
> I think of the people, mostly women, that I've met. I consider how
> competent they all are. Not a weenie in the bunch. We haul 40 ft. rigs, we
> back 'em up into tight spaces without clipping a tree. We set up camp, tend the
> horses. We cook and keep our camp neat. We understand and love our companion--,
> our horses. We respect each other and those we encounter on the trail. We know
> that if you are out there riding, you also shovel, fill, bathe, wait and
> doctor. Your hands are a little rough and you travel without makeup or hair
> gel. You do without to afford the 'sickness' and probably, when you were a
> small girl, you bounced a little model horse while you dreamed of riding a real
> one.
>
> "My treasures do not chink or glitter, they gleam in the sun and neigh in
> the night!
>
