I lived! Thank you all for your concern.
We ended up staying on the ranch for a month. Beda was soon to join Suzy and I on the farm, with the enticing lure of free food and booze, plus she got to drive a tractor!
For anyone ever interested in taking part in the program we did where you exchange on average 25-30 hours a week work for food and board there are two web sites with thousands of different home stays across the world with endless different experiences and adventures.
www.helpx.net or
www.wwoof.orgGranted, you may end up eating mung beans and living in a tree house with some stinky hippies, or living on an isolated farm with a gun wielding crazy alcoholic cowboy. It's up to you to chose your own adventure, keep an open mind and learn a different way of life. Try it.
Most of our work was based around helping with the tree farm business. We were left alone on the ranch for a week with instructions to 'paint the fence'. Nights were spent drinking and playing cards with the other volunteers, mornings were spent sleeping in, and a few hours during the day were spent painting the fence. Unfortunately the three cats, two dogs and several horses were also painted in the process. They in turn were left with very bad cover up hair cuts.
Being a lover of horses I was 'lucky' enough to be given special cow girl duties. This involved worming an entire herd of wildish horses.
I was equipped with a quad bike, several ropes and a stash of syringes filled with worming medicine. Away I burned, through the paddocks McLeod daughters style. I was then to halter them and squirt the paste in to their mouthes (I know you were thinking the syringe was to go elsewhere). Most of my day was spent chasing this pack around the acreage, as one would take off the others would spook and follow, sometimes 20-30 horses at a time galloping either side of me. Those I did manage to capture received most of their medicine speared down their sides as I would mis squirt when they pulled away. I just rubbed it in to their fur and hope to this day that they are still alive. Except for Chinook. That little bastard colt was out to make my life difficult. He reminded me of a shit stirring teenage boy. He would creep up behind me and kick me with his front foot, or nip me on the arm. When I would finally have one of the other horses haltered he would bite them on the ass so they rear up, pull the rope from my hands and consequently cause a stampede. Determined not to let him beat me I sort some advice from the owners of the ranch. They said he was just testing me and I should stand up to him, smack him if needed. I couldn't smack a poor little foal! Or could I. Next day he was at his old game again. He crept up behind me and bit me on the back of my arm. Reflex action I spun around and punched him square between the eyes. Chinook learnt to respect, and the horses got their worming medication...well some of it.
