“The ice-cold river was splashing over black basalt boulders. To the south, ripples in Lake Jesse glittered in the galactic glow. The peaceful, sweet-smelling morning on the Columbine had all the makings of a fine, soul-satisfying day. The Ute made a deliberate decision to enjoy these precious hours. He had a brief but serious talk with his dog, walked down the lane to stand on the Too Late bridge and watch the darting rainbow trout. After a few minutes of smiling at the fish, he stopped at the ...foreman’s house to enjoy pleasant conversation and a fine breakfast with Pete and Dolly Bushman. The kindly woman had made enchiladas rancheros with green chili, refried beans, and flour tortillas buttered with the genuine article. Between bites, Pete reported a fair stand of grass on the four sections north of Pine Knob. All it needed was “a couple inches more rain, and it’ll grow so high we’ll be losing calves in it.” On cue, puffy clouds were already piling up a mile high over the Misery and Buckhorn ranges.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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