Better Admired than Owned: Old Trucks and The West

There’s a chill in the air this morning. It’s 6 AM; I’m up with only the rooster and my dog. This part of the day is my favorite: it’s quiet, crisp from the darkness that just broke, and contemplative.

1Psuedonym

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Old Ford Truck. Author’s photo.

Since I was a young kid, I’ve wanted to own my slice of western folklore: a dude ranch.

I wanted a decent herd and a few horses, a good dog, a wife, an old truck, and a cabin sitting on a few thousand acres tucked beneath the Rocky Mountains with a stream somewhere in there. It’s the American Dream.

I’ve lived this mountain life (not the ranch life — I never did get my thousand acres with horses and cows. I did get the wife, the good dog, the old truck, and a stream, however) for a decade now. And, while I’ve learned a whole lot about life. The two things that have taught me the most about life are owning an old truck and living out west.

The lesson both of those things taught me: some things are better admired than owned.

The Grand Hotel in Big Timber, MT. Author’s photo.

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1Psuedonym

Writing about what I see in this world. Amateur scribbler with a curiosity for new experiences.