Chapter 9 ~ Page 124
As she was about fifteen years-old, pigtailed, a bit overweight, and obviously lonely, I thought it was nice that she enjoyed our company. In return, my own girls had someone somewhat near their own age to talk with. And as since she obviously thought James was a mucho, macho, man, I thought a little bit of a teenage crush might boost his morale. So, when she asked if I would appreciate having her show us the way the next day, I said, "Delighted."
BJ was the first to complain about my decision. He didn't care for the way this girl treated her horse, who she called, "Pig." By the time we had followed the ski lifts up to a monument commemorating the efforts of the Donner party pioneers, that also happened to be on the trail of the Davis Cup route, the granddaddy of the 100 miles-in-one-day horseback endurance rides, James had joined BJ in what was to become a disgruntled chorus. Frightened by her unabashed attention, James started calling the girl after her horse—Pig.
That turned out to be as good a nickname as any ever applied. But, I, at the time, went along with her suggestion that she continue on a bit further with our family. This then turned into a scheme where the girl would return for food and oats, and catch up with us the next day to ride along to our next supply stop, Sierra City.
One of my problems has always been is that I don't know how to say, "No" politely. Of course, I really didn't expect the mother would allow her daughter to ride off with strangers she hadn't even met. Also, it was a long way back to the resort; I felt this girl, and Bernadette and Colette, were indulging in some wishful thinking. Pig most likely wouldn't be able to catch up anyhow.
She did.
She also began to push her ample weight around. Having already alienated the boys, she started in annoying the girls. Then her total lack of social graces began to concern Bernice. And finally, I got mad.
Just little things, really. Hard to explain without sounding petty. She hadn't brought much food, but ate for three. Her horse went without oats until I robbed our string's meager supply. She wouldn't tie her mount at night, and he started a stampede. She took up so much room in the tent that Bernadette ended up sleeping outside. She 'appropriated' BJ's calf skin vest, which was never recovered. And, in general her personality was giving us all indigestion.
BJ was the first to complain about my decision. He didn't care for the way this girl treated her horse, who she called, "Pig." By the time we had followed the ski lifts up to a monument commemorating the efforts of the Donner party pioneers, that also happened to be on the trail of the Davis Cup route, the granddaddy of the 100 miles-in-one-day horseback endurance rides, James had joined BJ in what was to become a disgruntled chorus. Frightened by her unabashed attention, James started calling the girl after her horse—Pig.
That turned out to be as good a nickname as any ever applied. But, I, at the time, went along with her suggestion that she continue on a bit further with our family. This then turned into a scheme where the girl would return for food and oats, and catch up with us the next day to ride along to our next supply stop, Sierra City.
One of my problems has always been is that I don't know how to say, "No" politely. Of course, I really didn't expect the mother would allow her daughter to ride off with strangers she hadn't even met. Also, it was a long way back to the resort; I felt this girl, and Bernadette and Colette, were indulging in some wishful thinking. Pig most likely wouldn't be able to catch up anyhow.
She did.
She also began to push her ample weight around. Having already alienated the boys, she started in annoying the girls. Then her total lack of social graces began to concern Bernice. And finally, I got mad.
Just little things, really. Hard to explain without sounding petty. She hadn't brought much food, but ate for three. Her horse went without oats until I robbed our string's meager supply. She wouldn't tie her mount at night, and he started a stampede. She took up so much room in the tent that Bernadette ended up sleeping outside. She 'appropriated' BJ's calf skin vest, which was never recovered. And, in general her personality was giving us all indigestion.
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Text and Photographs © Barry Murray 1971-2007 Mac&Murray Multimedia