Thursday October 22, 2020 SADDLE TRAMP

The stars were out when Sven leaned against the top black spruce rail of his imaginary corral, with one boot on the lower rail, lookin’ over his remuda of seven head of old imaginary horses. “Yessir, y’all been dere ven I’ve needed ya,” Sven said, dreamy like with a half can of beer in his hand. Soob nickered at the compliment. Although she was tventy-two-years old, she was one of the newer mounts of the herd and who, Sven learned, liked to acknowledge his commentary, in whatever form (including gaseous explosions) she had the occasion to hear. “ ‘onda dere’s seen better days, ‘aven’t ya, you old Accord?” Sven said after a long sip of Schmidt beer, whose can had an illustration of a bear splashing through water, with a salmon in its mouth. “She may be t’irty vun years old an’ ‘asn’t fired up for a couple years, but I tells ye, if’n I ‘ooked ‘er up to a good battery why she’d light up bot’ her retractable ‘eadlights (even though they don’t retract anymore and are just held in by panduit straps) and set to purrin’ like she alvays done. Von’cha? Damn right, yah shure.” The 35 year old 1985 Ford F-150 was put out to pasture in 2002 after her carburetor caught fire at a gas station in Royalton, Minnesota. A few miles farther on, in Rice, her exhaust manifold turned a glowing orange color. Sven knew she was on her last legs. An emergency phone call to his mechanic cousin at Palm’s Town Pump, in Hoyt Lakes, Mn, he assured him, “Oh, yeah, it happens. If she got you down there, she’ll likely get you home.” She made it home that trip without any further issues, but never left the farm again on any long road trips too far from home. Sven upgraded his herd soon thereafter, (that May, to be exact) when he happened upon a sweet lookin’ 1986 Toyota 4x4 pickup near Baudette, with very low miles and a lot of nice bodywork on it; the odometer read 43,000 for obvious reasons. It was added to his herd just in time for the Great Roseau County Flood of June 11, 2002, and although not likely to leave the farm on any long excursion or win any beauty contests anymore, she remains a faithful year around workhorse he nicknamed, “Toolbox,” with presumably less than 200,000 miles on it. A shooting star streaked across the darkening blue sky. A large piece of cardboard fell into itself in the trash burner on the other side of the yard, its glowing ash captured by the fine mesh screen overhead. In 2005 or thereabouts, Sven and Monique bought a 2000 Saturn wagon, just because; the because being, she had given her daughter her 1996 Ford Escort wagon because she badly needed reliable transportation. Finding themselves in St. Cloud, suddenly without a car, they found the handsome gold-colored Saturn at a reputable used car dealer that Monique had dealt with years before, and drove it home that very day. Who knew? The forest-green 1995 GMC ‘Vandura’, 2500, with its huge ass end tucked under the boughs of the cedar there is akin to a Belgian draft horse in all respects. Its seven-passenger carrying capacity, 34 gallon fuel tank, big 350 gas eating V-8, tinted windows, AC front and back, luxurious seating and overhead lighting, is Monique’s favorite steed; one that she stubbornly refuses to sell because it’s so comfortable. It too has very low miles for as old as it is. After buying it out of necessity in 2008, as we walked the Pembina Trail during Minnesota’s Sesquicentennial, we only drive it in the summer, once or twice. Sven’s daughter Heidi, then a college graduate, bought herself a newer 2006 Toyota Corolla, that served her very well until almost two years and over 200,000 miles ago now. Sven bought it from her when the car dealership wouldn’t give her anything on a trade. Her workhorse during her college days was a red 1997 Ford Escort wagon with 200,000+ miles on it, that Sven ‘inherited’ and drove to work himself, until he retired from the toy factory. Two weeks later, the poor thing ‘blew up’ because he hadn’t thought to replace the timing belt in time. It is now an in-yard storage facility with a live-in residence of garter snakes. Sven had used his riding mower to mulch the last of the leaves in the yard ahead of a large winter storm forecast for the region. He took down Monique’s big Pavillion screen tent with her help. After she handed him the two folding chairs and the lounger that was along the wall, he walked the big wood picnic table out of it so they could roll up its floor, an event that typically saddens Monique. Together they wrestled the mammoth tent back into its storage bag and onto the tailgate of the new 1993 Chevy 4x4 pickup for its trip to the SFH, “Shed From Hell”. Yes, Sven and Monique got a new horse, just like that. And it was free! Monique’s oldest son, ‘John-Boy,’ gave it to them as he was buying a newer ride himself. Sven was never so happy about the deal as when, very recently, after he locked the keys in the pickup, with the engine running, he was able to call JB and learn where the hidden key was, well . . . hidden. Sven started Alex’s snowblower and backed it out of the SFH to make room for the rider mower which would take the snowblower’s place along the back wall. Grabbing the plastic snow sled and foldable snowshovel for the car, he made room for his Husqvarna little ‘pony,’ with whom he so enjoyed mowing the acre-big yard every week or less. Now it was its time for hibernation.