One of the highlights of this past week was the Cimarron River.  We could feel the spirit of the past reflection our activities.  There was a tenseness in the air as people watched and held their breath.
    When the first wagon pulled out on the sandy bank its wheels left ruts that had not been make in over a hundred years.  The cattle crossed the river and lumbered up the bank wiping away all memory of thoes ruts forever.
In the old days we may have stayed there on the bank-celebration the successful crossing, resting the herd.  However, we moved out on to the next camp.  We camped the weekend literally at the "end of the road" near Enid. Right on the banks of the Skeleton Creek.  The herd and cowboys all had a weekend rest.  We washed clothes in town and relaxed. Caught up on sleep and just enjoyed each others company amongst the shade of the trees.  Listening to camp stories told to the sound of the breeze and the song of the creek below.  It couldn't have been more restful and beautiful.
There we said so long to our 3rd week crew of cowboys and on Sunday greeted the 4th and final weeks men.
Monday morning at 8am we were packed up and rollin!