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33 Tamale Ridge by: Chuck Cusimano

After a few more words were exchanged we went our separate ways and I only saw him once

since then and that was at a little bronc ridin’ contest down at Trinidad. I went there with a

couple other ranchers from the area to do some business. We threw a little bunch of cattle

together and drove them down to Gallinas and followed the Raton creek to the little town. We

were sending some yearlin’ steers to a buyer from up Denver way. We were loading them up

on the train to ship them to him, when I heard about the contest.

The other guys went back toward New Mexico and I told them I wanted to stay a day or two.

The feller I ran into told me they were giving prize money to the guy that rode the best. That

was right up my alley. I saw a different Billy Watkins that day. He was stone sober and he rode

that bronc like he was a part of him.

I didn’t win the prize money and neither did Billy. Some local rancher from down east

named Lopez spurred his name in the neck of his bronc and beat us both.

I bet I seen four or five automobiles while in Trinidad. I don’t think I’ll ever own one of

those. I hear they cost $300.00. After I was paid for my cattle, I opened an account and put

most of the money in the bank and left on horseback again for home.

This time, I rode west up the Picketwire river and into Sopris, following the railroad in Longs

Canyon. It went south, southwest all the way over the top and all the way to the Catskills. When

I turned off, I headed west on top of the big ridge, then followed the trail home. That was nearly

a year ago and I’d only been back once since then.

CHAPTER FIVE

It was cold and snowing hard outside but my cabin was warm. Only a few days before

Thanksgiving and we were having a real bad blizzard. I didn’t bother my cattle or pastured

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