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Wyoming Ranch

"Do Only Real Americans Live In Wyoming"

Dawn was breaking over the Circle P in Western Wyoming. The Sun had not yet broken above the East horizon but the growing light cast an eerie orange glow on last night's fresh snow that had put an ermine blanket on the Tetons. A few puffy clouds lingered at the top of the peaks but would soon disappear from the Sun's rising heat. The sky was not yet blue. The trees on the hillside had already turned to several shades of yellow and orange but appeared in dark, grey tones because of the low light. Winter was just around the corner.

The valley below the ranch house was still shrouded in a low ground fog. A horse's rump without any legs and a hundred fence-post tops in a row appeared above the fog, like a pastel picture only half painted.

John Portal stretched his arms into the air as he drank in the morning scene from the picture window of their ranch house. As he slowly lowered his arms, Jenny, John's wife, still in her robe, snuggled under one of his arms in a sideways hug and shared the beauty of the new day that was just now presenting itself to the Portal's of Wyoming. John and Jenny could but linger for a short while in the rapture of the moment. There was much work to be done before the Sun would set again on the Circle P. Jenny broke away from their hug to wake up their two children and then headed for the kitchen. John started towards the bathroom to shave and get dressed.

John and Jenny were both fifth generation ranchers. John had inherited their thousand-acre spread from a long-line of independent, self-reliant, tough pioneer stock Portals, born and bred from the days of the old West. John and Jenny met in high school and a bond between them was forged almost instantly. Jenny was the daughter of another fifth generation Wyoming rancher. Both were the product of the American free spirit, who daily stared adversity directly in the face and pressed forward, no matter what was in their way.

Smoke was already billowing from the stack on the bunkhouse. The cowboys of the Circle P were getting ready for a long day in the saddle. A good portion of the herd was in the upper pastures and had to be brought down to the lower valley. The upper pastures would soon be covered in several feet of snow and they could lose part of the herd should they delay the drive much longer.

Not one person on the Circle P was giving any thought whatsoever to what was going on in the Capitol of Wyoming, much less Washington DC. There was a job to be done, a nation to be fed and no one in either Capitol would or could help John and Jenny with that job. If anything, the people in those capitols, with their "finger" on the legislative trigger, could only make John and Jenny's job that much harder because of the draconian environmental laws they have or would pass, that only affected rural landowners and the food and livestock producers of America. Each environmental law these arrogant "suits" passed, only drove the cost of food higher and made it more difficult for the food producers to stay in business.

John and Jenny had to rely on their skill, accumulated experience, knowledge and inherited wisdom and they could only hope that would be enough to save them from the ravages of what Mother Nature could throw at them, without warning, at any time. Hot dry spells, gully washers, wind storms, long snowy winters and low crop yields were and are, an annual reality ..... anyone of which could wipe out the meager profits they hoped to achieve each year ..... anyone of which could make it difficult to pay the bank loans they take out between crop and herd payoffs.

The characteristics bred into the John's and Jenny's of Wyoming, living free, along with all the other men and women in all the states who feed this nation, are the backbone of her soul. They are the front line against the raw fury of the weather and the land that try to thwart these brave Americans from completing the vital work they do. When they lose, they endure. When they win, they share.

These people do not have to be plucked off of rooftops after a blizzard, a wind storm, or a tornado. If in trouble they help each other. If one is down, the others come to their rescue. When times are good, they celebrate. When times are bad, they get to work. FEMA is an acronym for which there is no meaning.

All other Americans, along with millions of men, women and children around the world, owe their very existence to the perseverance, self-reliance and independence of those who choose to challenge nature and extract from it the sustenance, without which none of us could live.

So no. Not all real Americans live in Wyoming, but it is the hard, tough, independent countenance of those who choose to make their lives on the high plateau of a wild land, that carry the scars of battle with nature and proudly wear the badge of liberty at any cost.

They thought they could live their lives without interference from their government as the Constitution promises, but they were wrong. They must now face the enemy who will not leave them alone. In the end, could a bunch of educated idiots, dressed in dark suits, in a far off city, inhabited by a crowd of dependent free loaders, be any tougher to tackle than what Mother Nature has been throwing at them for their entire life?

Should the American ranchers and farmers collectively turn their attention away from the weather and the land for awhile and towards the government that now haunts them, the government would be wise to put their ears to the ground and listen for the hoof beats of an angry four horsemen. That is of course, unless the American rancher and farmer have not been bought off by that government, using the money from the public treasury, like so many other segments of our once-free nation, who have similarly been bought off. We can only hope not.

To all politicians and bureaucrats who mistakenly believe that you ARE the law, or ABOVE the law, whether it be the ranchers and farmers of the Western states, or the patriots who live urban or rural, millions of us are coming for you to explain to you that you ARE NOT the law, nor are you ABOVE the law and your authority comes from the states and the people. And further, you are obligated to abide by the Constitution to which you swear on solemn oath to preserve, protect and defend, so help you God and we intend to hold you to that oath, or else.


AUTHOR'S NOTE: The above story is fictional, the strong message of freedom it delivers, is not.

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