An email from Jaime,
"When I was in Austin, all alone in the Driskill hotel, dreaming about Fruita and the Black Bike, missing family and friends, I recieved this prayer on the pillow of my turned down bed.
Oh, Lord, I reckon I'm not much by myself;
I fail to do alot of things I ought to do,
but Lord, when trails are steep and the pass is high,
help me ride it straight the whole way through,
and in the falling dusk I get the final call,
I do not care how many flowers they send,
above all else the happiest trail will before you to say to me,
"Let's Ride, My Friend"
Roy Rogers, 1911-1998
I thought that was pretty cool- enough to share it with you guys. So the next time we all ride together you'll understand the stupid grin on my face. J F R""
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