Back in the early 1960s, Kenny and I were doing what we usually did just about every day. We rode horses. That was our job, our vocation. We weren’t pleasure riders. We broke and rode horses to make our spending money. We had a contact to ride Shetlands for a fellow. I’ve written much more about that, so I’ll just place that down at the bottom of this story.

We rode up an old cedar chopper road that was down below our house a little ways. The road was overgrown with small cedars and a tight squeeze to get up through in a car. A couple of hundred yards after we turned off the main road we saw something underneath a big clump of trees were several cases of beer stacked up. Busch Bavarian Beer. It was much more beer than we could even think of carrying out of the brush horseback.

We took off for the house to tell Cec about our find. Those were the days when Cecil Lewis didn’t drink any kind of alcohol, not even beer.

We jumped in his pickup and tore out down there to check out our find. With the beer loaded up he was going to have to going quite always to turn around. There never was an adequate place to turn around. We finally got to a wire gap. That got us back into our pasture.

The person or persons that had stashed the beer could easily track where the beer thief had disappeared to. We pretty well figured out that we knew who hidden it out. An old farmhouse just down passed there had a big ol teenage boy living there with his family. We were much younger than him, so we didn’t actually know him, but from that time on if he caught us out on the road walking to or from the school bus he would crowd us off into the bar ditch. That bar bitch was full of dewberry vines, so it wasn’t always taken very well by us. There were plenty of rocks laying around to fend him or as much as possible or at least make us feel like we got the last lick in.

Busch Bavarian Beer wasn’t anyone’s favorite choice of beer from what I knew or ever witnessed, but my mother’s wild and crazy little sister’s were always up for drinking whatever they could get there hands on, so I figure they had a few party’s with that found beer.

Now The Story About Breaking And Training Shetlands.

Vernon Blizzard – after a lifetime of thinking I knew how to spell his name I found out it is Blisard)