Whose Shoes? (western) LbNA #5770 (ARCHIVED)
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Add Location| Owner: | Adoptable |
|---|---|
| Plant date: | Sep 23, 2003 |
| Location: | |
| City: | Kalamazoo?? |
| County: | Kalamazoo |
| State: | Michigan |
| Boxes: | 1 |
| Planted by: | azobox  |
|---|---|
| Found by: | Cimba |
| Last found: | Mar 31, 2010 |
| Status: | FFFFFFFFa |
| Last edited: | Sep 23, 2003 |
“Whose Shoes?”
(mystery western version)
Box confirmed active April 2010
Chicago Slim thought he’d go a bit away from the trail and maybe cut a few miles off his travels. He’d been following the GT Western RR towards the northeast for quite awhile. This must be the right direction; after all, it WAS named Western. He kept half an eye on an old map, too. He saw a sign that caught his eye, “Prairie Ronde”. What could that mean? But, gosh, “Prairie” was a friendly word for him and it was another good sign that he was headed right.
So he and Firecracker, his not-so-speedy horse, continued northward.
Lo and behold, he saw the most encouraging sign so far on this trip to meet his old saddle pal, Buck. The road pointed north to “Texas”, or at least it looked like it said Texas and then the letters got all blurry so he couldn’t figure out what it might mean for sure. That’s where Buck had said he’d been hangin’ out. And while it wasn’t the wide-open prairies of the Lone Star State, he’d been promised a bit more shade and some better grub.
So on he rode, deciding not to take the road over to that small, pretty lake over there. Instead, he turned Firecracker a bit east, looking for that quiet spot that Buck had described. As he trotted along he saw evidence that youngsters had scouted some land off to the north. He decided to try a trail just east of there. A gentle pull on Firecracker’s left rein, and then soon after, just a nudge to the right sent him into a pine forest on down the trail. But which way to go? This was the direction Buck had told him, wasn’t it?
He was faced with a couple of options. Since Firecracker wasn’t wearing any wheels, he felt okay about his choice.
He rode on and on, at one point crossing another trail, this one with tire tracks. Was there only one trail he crossed? He couldn’t remember for sure.
Eventually the woods gave way to a bit more clearing, then a sandy downhill. He noticed a colored marker on the right side of the trail. Whoa! What’s that up ahead? Steps? Out on the trail? He dismounted and began the climb, leading Firecracker. At the very last step he stopped. He moseyed over to the right (say 100 degrees) a couple dozen steps or so to a small tree to take a break, pulled out his canteen, and unwrapped a Buckaroo Energy Bar. It looked like an old piece of the Grand Trunk Western lying there under the bush. Then he did what every cowboy knows he shouldn’t do when he takes a break; he took off his boots. Alas, that was his undoing. He couldn’t get 'em back on when it was time to hit the trail.
Check out Chicago Slim’s rest stop -- and be careful not to smell his boots!
Ol' Slim's full of surprises!
(mystery western version)
Box confirmed active April 2010
Chicago Slim thought he’d go a bit away from the trail and maybe cut a few miles off his travels. He’d been following the GT Western RR towards the northeast for quite awhile. This must be the right direction; after all, it WAS named Western. He kept half an eye on an old map, too. He saw a sign that caught his eye, “Prairie Ronde”. What could that mean? But, gosh, “Prairie” was a friendly word for him and it was another good sign that he was headed right.
So he and Firecracker, his not-so-speedy horse, continued northward.
Lo and behold, he saw the most encouraging sign so far on this trip to meet his old saddle pal, Buck. The road pointed north to “Texas”, or at least it looked like it said Texas and then the letters got all blurry so he couldn’t figure out what it might mean for sure. That’s where Buck had said he’d been hangin’ out. And while it wasn’t the wide-open prairies of the Lone Star State, he’d been promised a bit more shade and some better grub.
So on he rode, deciding not to take the road over to that small, pretty lake over there. Instead, he turned Firecracker a bit east, looking for that quiet spot that Buck had described. As he trotted along he saw evidence that youngsters had scouted some land off to the north. He decided to try a trail just east of there. A gentle pull on Firecracker’s left rein, and then soon after, just a nudge to the right sent him into a pine forest on down the trail. But which way to go? This was the direction Buck had told him, wasn’t it?
He was faced with a couple of options. Since Firecracker wasn’t wearing any wheels, he felt okay about his choice.
He rode on and on, at one point crossing another trail, this one with tire tracks. Was there only one trail he crossed? He couldn’t remember for sure.
Eventually the woods gave way to a bit more clearing, then a sandy downhill. He noticed a colored marker on the right side of the trail. Whoa! What’s that up ahead? Steps? Out on the trail? He dismounted and began the climb, leading Firecracker. At the very last step he stopped. He moseyed over to the right (say 100 degrees) a couple dozen steps or so to a small tree to take a break, pulled out his canteen, and unwrapped a Buckaroo Energy Bar. It looked like an old piece of the Grand Trunk Western lying there under the bush. Then he did what every cowboy knows he shouldn’t do when he takes a break; he took off his boots. Alas, that was his undoing. He couldn’t get 'em back on when it was time to hit the trail.
Check out Chicago Slim’s rest stop -- and be careful not to smell his boots!
Ol' Slim's full of surprises!