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Re: RC: Liberty Run with the kid: Part DONE
Dear Howard and Truman,
Howard, I'm a born and bred Yankee, and I have also spent no small
amount of time participating in the pagan alternative religion known as Wicca
(that's Witchcraft to those not up on their new age lingo), which makes me a
Yankee witch I suppose, and I think y'all both need to come on up here and
ride in the great white north, in January. A gater can be outrun or avoided,
but snowdrifts and negative windchill factors cannot. Oh . . . before you
come, I might mention, we do sometimes get s-n-o-w and even i-c-e on our
roads, that season. I do realize that Southern cities can be brought to a
complete standstill if two inches of snow falls (though two feet does not us
from driving, or riding, for that matter), so I thought I'd better mention it.
By the way . . . those of you with fire ant problems . . . might want to
consider moving North. The supposedly indestructable critters can't survive
our winters, though gators do not, apparently, seem to faze them . . . (so
much for the threat gators pose . . .)
Trish, Yankee witch
from Grand Blanc (Great White), Michigan
In a message dated 11/1/99 9:26:19 AM Eastern Standard Time,
<< I was thinking to myself that I hope
the guy riding this horse had rented a "cherry picker" to get in the saddle
ride morning. I didn't know it was Howard's at the time but I knew it had
male riding him since women tend to ride these itty bitty little horses and
was a real man's horse. >>
That statement is so politically incorrect. Even I know better than to go
there with the ladies if I plan on surviving in this sport. I hope the
flame your retired Vet butt for that one.
<<The only thing that is still a bit puzzling is I am not sure that Howard
not a closet 'Nole fan. Now if he comes back fuming and shooting flames
way we'll know for sure that he is a Gator>>
OK, for that remark I'm taking the Gators against the Noles in three weeks,
no points. Place your bets here. And to show how much a Gator I am I've
enclosed a "short" Gator tale, for those of you who might have missed it.
Truman, I'm not sure if you're a Gator or a Nole, but I know one thing, You
ain't no Yankee. If you were, I'd tell you the following:
SNAKES & GATORS
by Howard Bramhall
A few weeks ago I took some of my northern in-laws horseback riding. They
were extremely green riders and this was their first trip to Florida. We
just finished most of the ride and were on the way back to my barn. I
stopped our horses in a swampy area to let them relax and to cool their legs
in the deep water. When the horses put their heads down to drink I told
everyone (this included my brother-in-law, my sister-in-law, and their
teenage son) to be very quiet and keep still. I said that the horses were
smelling for gator. I went on to explain that horses have a very keen sense
of smell and can tell if a gator is nearby, up to a hundred yards, and that
this is what they were doing at this very moment.
Since I had pointed out one of these reptiles to them earlier during our
ride, they listened to me quite seriously. I proceeded to tell them about a
time last year when I had gone out riding alone and had ended up in this
spot. For no apparent reason, my horse started snorting and became
agitated. He started dancing in the water so fast that I thought his legs
were being attacked by an underwater snake, which happens quite often out
here in the swamp. Just when I got my horse under control a big gator comes
flying out of his deep water hole, straight up, right towards my head. I
in total shock and could not move, glued to my saddle. I stared right into
his hungry eyes and knew that my face must be white as a ghost. His mouth
opens wide, I become hypnoticed staring at his incredibly sharp teeth, and
watch his snout snap shut, missing my nose by less than an inch. I remember
feeling the breeze created by him doing this and the smell of his breath
being worse than any outdoor fish market on a hot, summer's day. I had
been more frightened in my entire life. The splash of this monster hitting
the water soaks me and the horse and helps me regain my composure. The
and I race back home for dear life, never looking back. I will never forget
seeing the teeth of that gator snapping at my head.
After I finish telling my story, my sister-in-law (I don't like her much,
she's kind of a witch) freaks out and starts crying and sobbing terribly.
After a minute or so of doing this, she says to her husband, "I hate
Hurricanes, fires, mosquitoes, humidity, snakes, and now these gators.
me home now."
So, the next day they packed up their bags and left our house, a week
than originally planned. They had decided to go back to Pennsylvania, where
it was much safer. As they drove away, my wife turns to me and asks, "What
happened on that horse ride?" I told her that if you want the damn Yankees
to go home you got to tell them a Gator Tale.
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