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D I S T I N C T LY M O N TA N A M A G A Z I N E • S U M M E R 2 0 2 4
I watched them. Deep concentration furrowed their brows as
they wrapped their hands with tape, closed their eyes and went
through the side to side and back and forth motions of being in
the saddle while it was still firmly planted on the ground, trying
to gauge what a horse will do without being on it.
Each rider had style and flair for their attire. There was artistry
that went into it. Leather chaps that were inlaid with flowers, ini-
tials, adorned with silvers or bright hues that shined with their
movements. Cowboy boots so worn out they were barely wear-
able but had spurs that the sun glinted off etched with the finest
