Move over John Wayne, look out Clint Eastwood

( rider: Tim Stearns)

What did you accomplish over the weekend in 16 seconds?

In cowboy mounted shooting, the fast action rodeo type equine sport 16 seconds is a good run. For the Ct. Renegades State Championships Sept 18 & 19, 2010 Cowboys and Cowgirls from all over the Northeast descended on Enfield, Ct.'s Round Tuit Ranch for some high stake thrilling runs. http://www.roundtuitranch.com/ Each competitor rides six patterns or stages in a championship and the accumulated time and penalties for missed targets settles out the placings sometimes by 1/100 of a second.

BLANKS are used for ammo and all are provided by the competition to insure the safety of the event. A Rangemaster - combined referee and safety official is in the ring to direct the riders and officiate. The guns are Colt 45 type as used in the Old West and in the Rifle Division a Revolving Carbine or Lever Action 45 Long Colt, ( remember the Rifleman TV show?)

Costume is a big part with dress requirements to be clothing of the 1880's or from the Silver Screen Stars of the West. They take the costuming serious with penalties for a ride in inappropriate dress. For this reason we always have at least one photo club on the rail taking pictures. Their lens catching the flaming end of a pistol at dusk, the flared nostril of a horse, the sweat stained brim of a cowboy's hat and the windswept manes.

Over in the announcers booth I am calling out the time each course is completed in and more importantly the next few riders. With a new rider needed in the ring every couple minutes we have to have them ready and waiting or lose audience to long boring waiting time and even worse not finish all the rides before dark comes. http://www.carolynstearnsstoryteller.com/

Where can you catch up with this fast action sport? There are clubs in almost every state. We belong to the Connecticut Renegades http://www.ctrenegades.com/ There are any clubs in the Northeast and you can find all the sites on the National Association website http://www.cowboymountedshooting.com/

A favorite competition in the Northeast is called Border Wars. The two day event pits Ct. riders against our neighbors in Mass. in a fun two day cowboy weekend, at stake a red and black flag and the right to fly it at the forthcoming years events. Saturday the Mass Six Shooters http://www.masixshooters.com/ host the event and Sunday the Ct. Renegades. A new venue will welcome riders this year, Goss Farm in Dunstable Mass. will be the site on Oct 30-31, 2010. http://www.gossfarm.com/ I can't wait for the weekend. ( good weather only won't risk injury to horses or riders in slippery conditions) The friendly competition, campfire and BBQ, the storytelling around the fire, Cowboy Church Sunday morning and a second day of competition before we all go back to the 21 st century, shake the dust from our chaps and hang up our spurs until another weekend.

Blind Faith & Cowboy Church

This is the essence of a Cowboy Church program I presented at the Northeast Regionals of Cowboy Mounted Shooting at Three County Fairgrounds on Aug 8, 2010. I love the fact that cowboy mounted shooting has cowboy church preceding many Sunday competitions. Cowboy Mounted Shooting is one of the fastest growing equine sports. 1880's clad competitors ride a prescribed course of balloon targets firing blanks at them in this fast action rodeo timed sporting event. The partnership between rider and horse is so evident in the split second runs and concise accuracy of riding and shooting. It is unparalleled as a spectator sport with new riders finishing a course in about 1 minute and top riders blazing through in as few as 10 seconds. I saw that this weekend and the pure athleticism and power combined with the costuming is so exciting.

The Ct.Renegades http://www.ctrenegades.com/ and the Mass Six Shooters http://www.masixshooters.com/ were the sponsoring clubs of the Northeast Regionals. Both clubs are part of the national organization known as the CMSA http://www.cmsa.org/ It was just a couple days before the competition in Northampton, Ma. when a call came from Cindy Karp, President of the Mass Six Shooters. Due to a work related issue the person due to lead Cowboy Church was not going to be able to join us, I was disappointed as he leads a wonderful service. Cindy really did not want to cancel cowboy church, she was calling with a " can you help," and of course I said yes. Running a weekend long competition is a huge job and she had plenty on her plate along with Roger Dinsmore, President of the Ct. Renegades I told her " got it covered don't worry about it." I meant it because the story I wanted to share had been percolating in my head for days. Apparently it was there because it would be needed. I began to pull the pieces of a service together on the theme Blind Faith. Here is the essence of what I came up with.

BLIND FAITH

Hebrews 11:1 "Now faith is the substance of things to be hoped for, the evidence of things that appear not."

A popular definition is: " A belief that does not rest in logical proof or material evidence." Then of all the words after faith in the Thesaurus I chose - Trustfulness as the word most closely related to my image of faith in this application.

We had an opening prayer I wrote, asking for blessing on those gathered, for our horses who are the embodiment of the Lord's wind, sand, spirit and strength. I asked those to remember to live by the "Code of the West" and that our unspoken prayers be heard that morning. This was followed by a duo reading of Psalm 146 , one line which states "....The Lord sets the prisoners free; and opens the eyes of the blind..." Then Dy Rizzo shared a cowboy prayer from the American Quarter Horse Journal .

I then became the storyteller with an abbreviated rendition of the popular Will James classic of the Seeing Eye. Will James was a real cowboy of the 1920's and artist and writer of considerable talent. The Seeing Eye story is a tale of a ranch cowboy blinded in adulthood who continues to work the family ranch on horseback using skills acquired over a lifetime, incredibly well trained horses and the Blind Faith that they would see him through the days work. In the end he is caught across a river during a flash flood and the only way back is over the train trestle , one agonizing step at a time. He leaves the decision up to Little Eagle his horse and they make the painstaking journey with total faith in each other. About mid way across the distant whistle of the train alerts them to the impending disaster. They ride on causing the train to skid to stop which in the end saves all aboard.

The intimate relationship between a horse and his rider is developed slowly and all present could appreciate the skill it took to rest ones hand on the withers ( neck before the back) of the horse to "read" his muscles as a cue to " seeing" what was ahead. It was in this moment that the cowboys and cowgirls assembled at cowboy church were thinking most of their rides and what a skill this was, of the immense Blind Faith these two shared.

The story was one I read as a child and stayed with me, its message finding relevance in each season of my life but never more so than when shared with this assemblage. I followed the story with verses 1 & 3 of "Jesus Walked This Lonesome Valley". The closing prayer was given and the final line was, "As each makes the journey back out from this circle guide and protect them. Lift them up, and hold them in the palm of your hand." I closed with responsive music, that same line from the refrain of the hymn, "On Eagle's Wings."

Dedication, One Step From Insane

That lump, you see it on the tailgate? Well that's me, and I ended up sleeping there. I have to say it wasnt really sleep the body just stopped functioning. It had been a long day of announcing at our cowboy mounted shooting competition. I was also cheering on my son Tim and his horse U.C. Daybreak. They were really coming into their own and it was showing at this October 21,2007 competition. This sport requires great athleticism on the part of horse and rider, add a little excellent timing and precision aim, throw in some 1880 costumes and you have a good start. Riders shoot balloons with BLANKS out of real Colt 45 type guns. There are 10 balloons and 10 blanks provided by the competition for safety. There is a pattern you must follow or strict penalties are incurred. Then there is the clock ticking away, timing your every stride and breath. Tim and Daybreak did 4 patterns or courses that day and had made some significant improvement on time. We would wait and see what day two of the Border Wars competition would bring. ( http://www.ctrenegades.com/ http://www.masixshooters.com/ )

Night fell and the riders and horses got settled into camp. Picket lines and portable corrals were set up everywhere on the grounds of the beautiful Bridge Meadow Brook Farm Tyngsboro, Ma. and the night air, that crisp autumn air of October laced with a hint of woodsmoke and barbeque settled over us. Down by the pond and river riders began to gather and share in a trailside Barbeque to rival any westward expedition. The food was incredibly good and the company the best and the music began. Later into the evening I began to share stories having worked up some good spooky tales and horse stories to share with our cowboy friends. It was everything a night at the bon fire could be and then some, for the magic of that eve lingers with me now, several years later.

Finally we all drifted toward our camping or night arrangements. My brother had come along with us hauling the horse trailer and we had set up a nice tent. It had been 30 years since I had camped out with my brother, how fun! Tim opted to put his sleeping bag in the horse trailer to stay right next to his horse. Daybreak was secured to the side of the trailer with leads clipped to his halter a huge net full of hay and buckets of water. Just a couple feet away his partner layed out a sleeping bag where he could hear the munching of his horse and the busy day was quick to claim its reward of sleep. It was near midnight when I finally had finished prep for the morning and put away gear from the damp night air and run the long zipper of the tent and sleeping bag. I lay in the absolute darkness waiting for sleep to capture me and instead my eyes were wide and I realized just what a loud eater our Daybreak was. From the rip of a mouthful of hay from the bag to the minute or two of crunch and munch to the next rip. How incredibly annoying to be this tired and have to listen to that. My brother was long since stolen by sleep and his breath came quiet and slow. There were few sounds from camp an occasional stomp of a horse or the babble of the river passing through.

The next thing I know I was waking from a deep sleep almost drugged feeling. So incredibly tired my body felt heavy and pressed into the earth beneath my sleeping bag. Glow face on my watch said it was 1 a.m. I had only been asleep less than an hour and I had to use the bathroom. I tried to forget it and go back to sleep. The lovely green port-o-let was a long walk down the dirt road, I was to tired, no I had to go now. I noted there is no quiet way to unzip a sleeping bag or a tent but neither woke my brother, he always has been able to sleep through anything, at the moment envy stole over me! Outside the tent I look into the darkness toward the road and decide to look at Daybreak first. I step around the truck and trailer and back, then jump back toward the trailer and look again in the darkness of 1 a.m. HE'S GONE!

In utter darkness I ran around the trailer to where his friend Beau is tied, no not with him, and down the dark dirt road to the workout ring, no Daybreak here either. I am standing in panic near the port-o-let and hate to waste prescious seconds but have to step inside. The plastic door closes and there is not one spec of light, this is a new level of darkness I have never experienced. Finished I race up near the house where more horses are sleepily wondering who the madman is out running around in the night and they chew on, undisturbed, none report any sign of friend Daybreak. I race back up the road to the trailer and kick at my sons feet, " wake up Daybreaks gone, get Uncle Steve up while I go down to the competition field and see if he's there."

Down a long road over the bridge and on under such deep pines the stars are obliterested and I come to the path into the field where we spent the day competing. My eyes adjust to an increase in light, no horse, just the cars whizzing by so close on Rte 3 the State highway crossing from this northeast corner of Massachussets into New Hampshire, Oh God please no ! I could not envision our beautiful boy out on that highway and a panic rose up with acidic hands and clutched my pounding heart. (C) This ends part 1 I will be posting part 2 on Wed June 16 click on follow to be notified when the second half of my story is published.