Boots and Saddles
In 1898, my grandfather's uncle Curt single-handedly held off 2 companies of Spaniards so the Rough Riders could showboat up San Juan Hill. Bitter over his undeserved exclusion from the ensuing storm of fame, he cut out a couple strings of cavalry horses from where they'd been left behind in Florida and drove them off while throwing bricks from his personal mental load back at Teddy & Co.Safely hidden up in lost canyon, the ponies mixed freely with the local stock while uncle Curt proceeded to dig his own happy grave six by six while singing "Swing low sweet cherry pi-high" and drinking 100 proof lizard juice.
Now, 97 years later, me. little brother, and rolly jack found the map in a box of hammers and ran down about a dozen head of these beauties. We're saddling em up in tooled catalpa, alder, ash, and poplar and loading em with some mighty fine alnico twangers. Stampede headstock.
A rare breed in deed.
