About the Author

At the risk of having my Montana citizenship revoked, I will let you in on a secret: I was born in California. *GASP*

No, this really isn’t ALL Californians!

As were my mother and grandmother before me. *DOUBLE GASP*

It’s tough being a born and bred Californian transplanted in another state.  Especially in horse and cow country.  Urban sprawl throughout the western United States is often collectively blamed on those pesky “Californians” (sometimes justifiably).

**Note: Uttering the word “Californians” with the same hushed intonation as one might say “He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named” is vital to successfully mingling with the locals.

Although I was born in California, I was also born into a “horsey” family with a long tradition of rodeo, horse shows, horse racing, and horse breeding.  Many people don’t realize just how many cowboys and horsemen there were and still are in The Golden State… but I digress.

My dad bull riding.

My grandpa (on my dad’s side) was one of the founders and the first president of the JRA (Junior Rodeo Association) in California.  He was also a farrier, and rodeoed professionally.  My great-grandpa (on my dad’s side) was still team roping well into his 80s.  My mom’s dad also rodeoed professionally, and then started breeding running bred quarter horses in the late 1970s.  Her mother showed halter, western pleasure, and western equitation.

My mom running barrels.

My parents met as kids, junior rodeoing together.  My mom continued to show, team rope, and barrel race into adulthood.  My dad followed in his father’s footsteps and became a farrier, but also rode bulls, bareback horses, team roped, and bull dogged professionally.  He did a lot of stunt work for western movies as well.  Both of my parents spent time on the race tracks, my mom working the horse sales at Hollywood Park, and my dad as a plater (farrier) and colt starter.

Me pushing up steers at a roping on Donnie, a horse bred and raised by my grandpa and trained by my mom.

For all intents and purposes, though, I was raised by a single mother.  My dad just wasn’t around much.  My mom has always held a day job, usually in an accounting department somewhere, but our personal lives revolved around horses.  Evenings found us trail riding, schooling in our small arena, and roping the dummy.  Weekends found us at horse shows or team ropings.  Many of my early childhood memories involve my dog and I pushing up steers, or working the roping chute and catch pen, cooling out rope horses, or discussing quarter horse bloodlines with my maternal grandfather.  I still have a healthy obsession with pedigree research, and somewhat shamefully admit that the research I’ve done on the pedigrees of each and every one of my horses is far more complete than that of my own family tree!

A little girl we were giving lessons to on Donnie, my friend Magen on my pony Micki, and me riding English on my step dad’s rope horse Wicked.

My mom made certain I was a well-rounded rider, encouraging me to ride English and bareback in addition to our normal rope and barrel saddles.  She constantly quizzed me on proper equitation, showmanship, and horse conformation.  In addition to our own horses, we often had one or two others in for training.  We may have only had ¾ of an acre, but we always had horses in the back yard.  And dogs, cats, chickens, ducks, geese, goats, rabbits and any other animal that might find its way to our house.  We’re equal opportunity animal lovers in our family.

My broken arm and I on the Padlock Ranch. Note my traditional Californian Cowgirl garb.

A couple months before my tenth birthday, my step dad was hired for a ranching job and we moved from California to a little town in Montana.  My step dad grew up on a ranch in central California, and spent a good portion of his life cowboying on various ranches in between roping, rodeoing, and horseshoeing.  After the job in Montana we bounced around for a few years between different towns in Wyoming and then Oklahoma before finally settling in Arizona.  There I lived for 14 years, going to school, working a day job and riding my horses in my free time.

Sad, but probably true. I’m really not sure since I’ve never had a cocaine habit, lol.

Occasionally I competed in NBHA (National Barrel Horse Association) events and local junior rodeos and horse shows.  Sometimes I rode outside horses and coached other riders.  But as is the trouble in most horse-rich-money-poor families, life is a constant tightrope walk between working enough to earn your fuel/entry fee money, and still having time to haul and compete.  It’s a vicious cycle.

I’ve toyed with career decisions all of my adult life.  It’s still a work in progress.  Veterinarian, race track journalist, author, horse trainer, riding instructor, and running a horse hotel were all potential considerations at one time.  Heck, some are still possibilities I haven’t given up on.  I’ve taken college courses in Equine Business Management, Equine Anatomy and Physiology, and Equine Science.  Eventually, I also attended a trade school and earned my certification as an Equine Massage Therapist, but until our recent move to the Northwest I’ve always held a day job (office work, retail, etc.) and just done my horse massage work on the side.  I hope to make it my primary occupation in the not-so-distant future.