Tales From the Road: Two Cows and a Horse

Hi, how are you? I don’t have any super financial hacks, tips, or tricks. Not this week. That’s because I’ve been busy with some major adulting, which I discuss at the end. Back when it was rainy and dark and 2020 and I was in a bad mood, I wrote about how I was considering taking a break from this site. One of your key pieces of feedback, thankfully, is that you guys seem to want some interesting stories about life after FI, or life on the road. Well, here’s a true story about two cows and a horse. Apologies if it gets a little weird. After all, I did spend six months of the pandemic reading Stephen King’s The Stand (read it before it becomes a mini series. You know it’s coming).

Please enjoy.

The Lonely Road

I pause to take in a panorama with my iPhone. It’s a rare and moody overcast day on a forgotten gravel road, not far from Utah’s desolate, yet starkly beautiful border with Nevada and Arizona. Ancient lava flows long ago spilled into a valley of rounded and weathered outcrops of yellowish and burnt-orange sandstone. These flows, now frozen in time in the form of hardened, jet-black basalt, offer a stark contrast of color against the sandstone valley. The hillsides are sprinkled with deep-green juniper and pinyon pine. Otherwise, the earth is laid bare.

These highlands barely constitute a high desert, just cool enough to thankfully support the fledgling presence of scraggly sage brush. That down-valley sage back in St. George comes a little light in the loafers.

The Discovery

As I abruptly stop to take my photo, my dog continues her relentless forward progression, failing to consider her status tied to my hip. She’s persistent, and she continues pulling as if the next tug will magically lengthen her leash. Annoyed, I release her and continue on with my amateur photo.

Shoving my phone back into my pocket, it’s clear that my dog is intently focused on an area off to the side of the road, in a small turnout. Her head and shoulders are partially obscured by a pile of gravel in the foreground. However, the jerking movement of her midsection suggests that she’s found something that is neither her standard issue food, nor part of our broader nutritional plan for her.

After ten years spent with this dog, I do all I know that I can do. I say to my wife, “what the hell is Snickers eating?” Knowing that timeliness hardly matters—what’s in her mouth is in her mouth—I slowly begin shuffling over in her general direction, readying myself for what is very likely yet another semi-rotten deer hindquarter. She’ll probably pry it free and parade it around in a joyous circle, much like a celebrating Spaniard with a new shoulder of jamon de serrano para la mesa de la cocina.

Two Cows and a Horse

What I’m not prepared for is the stacked collection of mummified and partially eaten corpses of two cows and a horse. Coming upon this scene sends an electric shock through my spine. What remains is a disturbing sack of skin and fur amongst a dispersed pile of bones. These animals were picked over, likely by mega-psyched coyotes and carrion-eating birds. The eye sockets are horrifyingly empty, and the mouths are slightly ajar, revealing teeth but no tongues. The dry desert grasses are stained black from the soft tissue that rotted slowly in-situ in the arid landscape, likely many months ago. Most disturbing of all, the two heads of the cows are wrapped tightly together, cheek to cheek, almost as two bovine lovers snuggled comfortably in bed.

A solitary corpse of a cow or a horse, while disturbing, wouldn’t be much cause for alarm. This stack of bodies, however, is something altogether different. Our presence in this remote stretch of dirt road immediately feels very vulnerable. Without a doubt, these animals were placed here.

Why the hell are all these dead farm animals stacked on top of one another?

The Arrival

As I’m pondering this bizarre scene, there is only silence. Silence and the occasional light breeze.

Is that a car?

Suddenly, the approaching sounds of a vehicle along the gravel road, just out of sight, is unmistakable. The blood is coursing through my veins. I turn and stand solemnly, waiting for the vehicle to appear.

Jesus, man. What is going on out here?

Engine. Gravel. Engine. Gravel.

Suddenly a silver Toyota Four Runner emerges over the rise just 15 yards away. The vehicle comes to a stop. The engine continues to rumble as a cloud of dust passes the entirety of my nasal passage.

The door swings open and a man emerges, silhouetted by the late afternoon sun and the cloud of dust. As the cloud settles, I can see four mountain bikes of various sizes racked on the back of his vehicle.

The man steps forward, and I bring my hand to my brow to shade my eyes from the sun.

And then he speaks…

“What’s up dude?! Is this the trailhead?”

“No, no I don’t think it is,” I say with a smile.

We Bought a House

Very likely, by the time you are reading this we will be closing on our next house. And no, this was not our original plan. Stay tuned for plenty more on that subject next week.

And I Did an Interview

Here is my interview with Personal Finance Blogs. I really enjoyed doing this one, so I hope you do as well. Unlike today’s what-have-you, I discuss some financial stuff and muse on life in general.

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