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ARTICLES BY DON WEST

MORE PEOPLE -- LESS LAND

A COWBOY-HORSE RANCHER'S DECLINE

CHANGE

LIFE IS CHANGE

CHANGE IS LIFE

NOW THAT IS PLAIN TO SEE

WE'D LIKE FOR THINGS

TO STAY THE SAME

BUT THAT CAN NEVER BE

IT'S LETTING GO

NOT HANGING ON

THAT LEADS TO SANITY

THE MORE WE LOVE

LIFE AS IT IS

THE MORE WE ARE SET FREE

LIFE HAS TAUGHT

THAT ALL WE HAVE

WILL SOON BE BORNE AWAY

SUCCESS IS NOT

A FUTURE DREAM

IT'S LIVING LIFE TODAY

I know that all things must change. Change is one of the basic rules of nature. The Universe is dynamic...not static. The Earth is just a tiny speck in the Universe, but it is controlled by, and subject to, the same set of natural laws that rule all the stars in the heavens. I did not make these rules that we all live (and die) under, and I am not responsible for the way things work (or don't). But as I have gotten older I find myself more and more wistfully mourning the human wrought changes I see taking place around me. What our society is doing to our little planet in it's attempt to dominate and subjugate it , instead of learning to live in balance and harmony with it, is a sure fired formula for our own alienation, and eventually inhalations.

For fourteen years now I've been able to live in an absolutely fantastic environment, my own private personal paradise for breeding, raising, and training our Paso-Pleasure Horses. West Gait Equine Learning Center is our own little ranchette here in the Grand Valley of Western Colorado. My wife, Maria and I are not wealthy enough to own a substantial amount of acreage ourselves, but until recently we've been lucky enough to be surrounded by miles and miles of wide-open space, keeping nosey neighbors at arms length, and giving a (artificial) feeling of peace and tranquility to our everyday existence in our humble homestead. Our home place is a mere six acres, an un-irrigated chunk of high dry desert dirt, a plot of bare ground with a simple, single story, four room log cabin sitting smack dab in the middle of it. The cabin was built around the year I was born. By today's standards it's tiny, barely big enough to house the two of us, our five cats, and our two Pomeranian dogs. Our four other dogs are content to live outside, under the covered porch by the backdoor. Our sixteen horses live all around us, in various sundry pens and paddocks. Like I said, it's been our little personal oasis from the World at large.

Although our chosen cowboy lifestyle is und90oubtedly a little too rough and rugged to be held up as an ideal for most modern Americans, Maria and I relish the independence, and unencumbered simplicity of our somewhat primitive and unconventional existence. When it comes to personal possessions, we have little...and (fortunately) need less. But when our lifestyle is sized up against the satisfaction gained from being in control of our own daily doings, living life with little correlation to, or interference from the work-a-day nine to five world, we count ourselves as truly rich indeed. All in all, I guess I have little room to complain. I promise I won't stand at the pearly gates and say: "Oh St. Peter, if only I'd worked harder so I could have accumulated more!" Frankly, I think the world would be a much happier and healthier place if we all played more and worked less.

I am a very private person; a loner. I can count my close friends on the fingers of one hand. I get along with myself better than I get along with most people, and consequently, when I'm not working, I spend most of my time alone. I often joke that :"I never socialize unless I'm paid for it", and although that line always gets a good laugh, it is founded in truth. Many of you know me because you've seen me perform as a speaker/clinician at one or another of the many major horse fairs and/or expos held here and there around the United States. Of course, these events hire and bring in people like me in order to (hopefully) boost audience attendance (and profits) for the show producers. Different clinicians have their own defining disciplines and, accordingly, individual claims to fame. If they're any good, over time they accumulate their own following of fans and ardent admirers. That's show biz. I've been promoted as "America's Favorite Pleasure-Trail Riding Clinician, Your Learning Leader for Equine Adventure" for many years now, a title that has served me well, and brought me in direct contact with thousands of enthusiastic horse lovers... especially my fellow trail riders.

As a minor celebrity, in return for the name recognition I've received, I've tried to do my best to present what I've learned in the school of hard knocks, what I call Horse Handling-Horse Sense; my brand of experience based, no nonsense, down to Earth, easy to understand, compassionate conservative horsemanship. My goal has been to promote the well being of horses, and facilitate the enhanced enjoyment of pleasure horse owners and trail riders. I've worked toward that outcome by teaching Training for Trail Riding, Sit-Down Equitation and Synergistic-Synchronistic Riding, as well as Saddle Fit and Low-Impact Horse Camping. As many of you know, I specialize in Paso and naturally gaited horses, the kind I've been breeding and raising for over twenty-five years.

I've also been a vigorous voice in the wilderness, calling out for the development and maintenance of trails for trail riders, while promoting an environmentally sound set of trail use ethics. I want all of us to be able to participate, as well as protect and preserve the backcountry we love to ride in. I have enjoyed my position of prominence in the public eye. It's allowed me to act as a point man for promoting our equestrian sport...trail riding. For me, it's been a privilege and pleasure to be able to feel that I am performing a worthwhile service, making a positive contribution to a cause I enjoy and believe in. Unfortunately, unlike more urbane sports like golf and tennis, fortune does not automatically follow fame in the cowboy equine world. That's a desired outcome I'm still working on!

But, that's only part of my story. That's my "on the road" life... my public persona. At home, things are different. Maria and I lead a very quiet lifestyle. We prefer and protect our privacy. Our day-to-day existence revolves around our horses, dogs, and cats. To us, they're family. They give us more than pleasure -- they give us a reason to get up in the morning. Here at West Gait Equine Learning Center, we lead such a physically full lifestyle that we have little time (or energy) left for socializing. Add to that the demands of our Have Saddle-Will Travel business and we have little time leftover. In fact, we live like a couple of hermits, following a daily routine that beings and ends with horses: feeding, inspecting, and admiring our Paso-Pleasure horses. The last thing I do every night, before I turn in, is to go out under the open sky and count the stars, (making sure none are missing) as I open the pen gates, turning the horses loose to mingle amicably among themselves until morning...when the daily routine begins all over again.

This nightly ritual, spending private time with my horses while gazing up into the heavens, renews my sense of perspective. It reminds me of how trivial and unimportant our personal pursuits are when evaluated against the background of infinite time, awesome size, and the unfathomable space of the Universe. Life on the road is fast paced, people filled, and sometimes richly rewarding. It can be invigorating, but exhausting too! On the other hand, being back at home recharges my batteries and realigns my personal priorities. Yes, I've enjoyed my life as a cowboy-clinician. But I covet this haven I call home, and I treasure the real cowboy lifestyle it has afforded me now for almost thirty years, a lifestyle built upon, and revolving around breeding and training horses.

But, as my poem suggests, "Life is change", and change (wanted or not) is inevitable. I was abruptly reminded of that just the other day when walking my dogs, happily performing another one of my daily rituals. I saw a pickup parked off on the horizon. Normally, as I amble between my house and the Colorado River, about a mile and half away, I encounter nothing but my back gate, open space, sagebrush, prairie dogs, and an occasional coyote or badger. Sometimes I am joined by a playful pair of Golden Eagles, circling on the rising thermals overhead. I usually hike down to the river, and then traverse about a mile along the precipitous escarpment that hangs precariously a hundred feet above the river. Then I head back home along an alternate route that follows the crest of another alluvial ridge, creating a triangular path, one I've worn down and packed solid over the course of the passing years.

On this solitary sojourn I expect to see and hear no one, except the cars cruising way out on I-70, off in the distance across the Grand Valley. My daily walk has always been a time of uninterrupted contemplation, meditation, and personal introspection. As I've indicated, I'm a man who needs a good deal of personal space, and solitude in my life. Walking my dogs is my excuse for this daily indulgence. I have come to accept my need for meditation like I have acknowledged by need for air, water, food, and horses. Riding and training my horses gives my life meaning. Walking my dogs exercises my body, and soothes my soul.

But on this particular day my anticipated solitude was abruptly interrupted by two men driving here and there, crisscrossing the arroyos. Curious about what they were up to, I angled off my beaten path and went out to meet them. It turned out the they were surveyors marking out a grid of 40-acre parcels. A development company from Aspen had bought up the thousands of acres that for so long have been my private playground, previously neglected by all except me and the rancher who occasionally runs a few head of cattle on the spring grass that grows there. Now this property is going to be offered in small pieces to land speculators and developers who will soon be filling the space with a sea of expensive upscale dwellings, designed to meet the needs and pocketbooks of the upper and upper-middle classes. My days of free roaming, on foot or on horseback, are now numbered, and will soon be coming to an end. The clutter and clatter of civilization is mounting up to move in and take my freedom's fortress away. In short, I will soon be fenced in...or fenced out.

All across Colorado, and surely all across our nation, the same sad scenario is happening. It's inevitable. Everyday there are more and more people wanting to use (and abuse) less and less open land. Everywhere you look, houses and golf courses are eating up and replacing farms and forests. As property values go up, the less financially fortunate (people like us) are pushed out, forced to live in trailer courts or employee housing; sequestered out of sight, but kept close at hand, to serve the domestic needs of the wealthy. I'm afraid that as the wealth gap widens and the middleclass becomes extinct, only those with the deepest pockets will be able to lead the lifestyle that includes owning and enjoying horses as a pivotal part of their lives. The era of the free roaming western horseman that I have enjoyed for so long, that lifestyle of a financially challenged but spiritually rich, hard working cowboy/horse rancher, will soon pass out of existence.

Maria and I have already come to grips with the fact that we will soon have to sellout and move. There's a price to be paid for everything in life. Up till now we have paid the price by living in long term, self-imposed poverty (being horse poor), embracing the form of sensible self-denial required in order to fulfill our fantasies. To live our dreams we have gone without health insurance, health care, vacations, or a new vehicle for fifteen years. But, we have faithfully fed our horses, dogs, and cats, and usually ourselves... in that order. Given the precarious state of the world, and the resulting decline of the general horse market, it's unlikely we'll ever be able to recoup our investment, or relocate our operation and continue on. What we are left with is just the satisfaction of our accomplishments, and the pride we have in being able to have sustained many years of self-sufficient independence...the cowboy lifestyle. It's been a tough, but good ride. We've survived! I plan to keep on keeping on till I can't rise to feed them broncos anymore. Happy trails, Don West

LIFE IS A TRAIL

TOWARDS A LONE MOUNTAIN TOP

IT’S A TRACK THROUGH THE DESERT

THE WIND BLOWS AWAY

SO LIVE FOR ADVENTURE

LIVE WILD AND FREE

THERE’S NO PLACE TO GET TO

YOUR QUEST IS “TO BE”

AND KEEP ON THE MOVE

TO STAY STRONG AND ALIVE

COUNT EACH DAY A SUCCESS

IF YOU SAY “I SURVIVED

by Don West

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Last Updated: January, 2005