Sacramento’s heritage celebration, Gold Rush Days, takes place every Labor Day weekend. That’s right, four days of the sweet smell of road apples and dust. All 28-acres of our historic River City, was painted in dirt. Wooden sidewalks were crowded with city slickers, unrestrained whippersnappers and them-thar evil contraptions ya’ll call strollers.
Dirt lined streets were filled with gunfights, ladies of the boulevard, horse drawn carriages and stage coaches, US Soldiers, medicine men selling life-saving elixir’s and Mormon’s! That’s right, I said Mormons. The courageous Mormon Battalion and their families were at hand. Ever ready to defend and support America’s honor at any given notice. I was there too, in my candy-apple red cowboy boots! Along with hundreds of wannabe sidewalk cowboys and cowgirls! I mean really, just because ya’ll purchase a calico bonnet at The Old School House or wear a cowboy hat does not a wrangler make.
I know this because I single-handedly saved the day! Well, nearly single-handedly. Okay, there were others who participated, but it was MY idea! Ya’ll see, what began as a simple cattle drive through town, roping and barrel racing event soon turned into an all-fired cattle stampede! A few innocent gun shots and BAM! Those spooked cows were off and running wild! Cowpokes jumped in their saddles, mommas rounded up their babies, women with feathers ran for shelter, and me, I just stood my ground.
You see, thar was nothing to be fearin’ cuz in California we have “happy cows”. I knew this, so I just moseyed on over to the next block, takin’ a short cut thru Firehouse Alley and headed them thar cows off at the Wells Fargo. I jumped in front of those crazy cows and began to serenade them with my best cowgirl poetry.
You hafta know, by now, a sizable crowd had gathered ‘round to watch. The sound of my voice slowed down those thousand pound milkshake machines and I was able to run into that pack and give a little push with my candy apple red Laredo’s and tip over those happy cows right over. Others, seeing the fun I was having, began to join in. Soon, all ‘em stampeedin’ cows were resting quietly on their sides.
**no mam’ no cows were ever harmed in the retelling of this here story.**