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54 Tamale Ridge by: Chuck Cusimano

obviously he was very interested in my movements. Had I seen him somewhere before? I kept

riding till I was out of sight and around a bend in the canyon trail. I stopped my horse and got

off to look back up the canyon but I couldn’t see anyone following me. When I rode on, I still

had the feeling that someone was.

I took the borrowed horse back to the livery and paid for his use. I went to the nearest café

for a meal. After I ate, I rode over Raton Pass, through Wootton and north to Trinidad to take

care of some business and set up a future deal to ride the train and take some horses to the

National Western Stock Show in Denver. Gilberto would have some horses ready to go by then

and it would be good advertisement for Tamale Ridge. I asked a few questions about a man who

had a stallion named Tamale, down by Barela but no one knew anything about him. I checked

into a hotel for the night.

The next day, business concluded. When I went home, I rode south out of Trinidad and

turned up Gallinas canyon. Following one of the many foot trails, made by visiting miners. I

knew these trails would be safe for the bootleggers would keep their stills farther out in the hills.

I came out on a ridge and rode into and up Dillon Canyon where I topped out just a few miles

from home.

I slept good again after that ride. I would still have that same bad dream but not as often. I’m

not sure why I would have that same re-occurring nightmare but I would be plagued with them

once in a while.

I fought in a muddy trench in France side by side with Big Jim and other brave Marines. We

finally made a rush on the enemy line and made it to a small village where we met more

opposition. A shell exploded close by and I took some shrapnel. I don’t remember anything for

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