M.C. Wright

Campfire Day 3

It was one of those exciting moments that you wished had happened to someone else! As we all sat atop our mounts in the coral area of base-camp, Mickey was really lunging for some oat remnants that were strewn about the ground. The battle of wills began again, as Mickey's mammoth head would lunge for the food, and I would pull it back up. This went on for a little while, and then all of a sudden it felt like I had just hopped on a ride at Disneyland!

Mickey decided that not only did he want to get closer to the ground, but he thought he would drop and roll as well! The only problem was that I was still hooked into the saddle.  Man, they don't prepare you for things like this at seminary! As Mickey lunged down and began to roll, I heard the still small voice of someone cutting through the very thick air around my head..."Get him up, hit his butt!" So I yanked on the reigns and smacked his massive bee-hind, then as fast as we had gone down...it felt like the upswing of a bunji jump as I rode Mickey back up!

Wow...I think I just met my inner cowboy, unfortunately he has to pee now! Next it was time to take off the saddle, brush down my buddy, and see what needed to be done! Arne had things expertly in hand, so we all had time to talk about the events of the day!

Coffee brewing, the light of God's sky slowly dimming, it was fast becoming time to debrief and hear what God was speaking through the book of Colossians.

Col. 2:1-3 (NIV) 
    I want you to know how much I am struggling for you and for those at Laodicea, and for all who have not met me personally. [2] My purpose is that they may be encouraged in heart and united in love, so that they may have the full riches of complete understanding, in order that they may know the mystery of God, namely, Christ, [3] in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge.

Man what power in the opening words...How Paul struggled for his brothers. I can imagine him laboring over each name, bringing their lives before the throne of God, asking that Jesus Christ would be formed, revealed, and experienced in their lives...

The message and Good News about being a Christ follower flooded the middle of the chapter:

Col. 2:13-15 (NIV) 
    When you were dead in your sins and in the uncircumcision of your sinful nature, God made you alive with Christ. He forgave us all our sins, [14] having canceled the written code, with its regulations, that was against us and that stood opposed to us; he took it away, nailing it to the cross. [15] And having disarmed the powers and authorities, he made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them by the cross.

We don't need to bring ourselves back from the dead, when we Encounter Jesus, God does all the resurrecting for us! Every wrong I have ever committed in my life, every time I have fallen cataclysmally short of my potential, and God's expectations, every time I blow the code...all those offenses that should bar me from God's perfect and holy presence is, and has been, whisked away, nailed to the cross of Christ. AND NOT ONLY THAT...but through the resurrection of Christ, my enemy has been disarmed, and humiliated. That Satan is disarmed is even more good news! I don't need to worry, I simply need to be wary. He is defeated, disarmed...his teeth have been divinely pulled...in Christ I have the victory and God lays before me the blessing of following Him!

Man by man, we talked, listened, and entered into the bigger story that was all around us. Each man had similar thoughts and experiences in Colossians chapter 2. It never ceases to amaze me how God moves and speaks...heals and restores...empowers and uplifts through the reading, meditating, and chewing on His Word!

After the campfire there were pockets of discussion happening everywhere...I began to wander down a dark trail toward the open valley when I heard Frank and Jim shouting in the distance! Their shouts reverberated throughout the night sky much like the angels must have sounded when they came to announce the birth of Jesus..."Muchas Gracias Senior!  I love you God...Praise You Jesus!" Those words shouted at the top of their lungs...not to be funny...not to draw attention...but words shouted from the heart, unleashed among brothers where there is no judging...simple freedom to be the son of the King!

I venture it will be cold again tonight, but who cares...God is in this place.  MC

Day 3: Hurricane Ridge part 2

Beauty chiseled by the Hands of God. While the surroundings shout of the creative genius of God, there was another scene of beauty chiseled by the hands of God this morning as we all shared and took communion before we headed up to this ridge. There really is something powerful when men gather, shoulder to shoulder, standing together under the banner of and allegiance to a Great King!

The tradition is simple, bread and wine. The elements invite us all into a four phased drama whose script was written by God. The four phases, or movements as I like to call them, are found in the taking of the bread…the blessing…the breaking…and the sharing.

“He took the bread” In this act, God takes us for His own. Completely His choice. The only pre-req. is that we believe Jesus is who He said He was, that positions us to begin receiving God’s presence in our lives. It is a life changing moment when the reality hits you that you matter to God, he sees you, He knows you, and He wants you.

“He blessed it” This is such an incredible part of God’s story. Not only has He chosen us, but God also desires to fill our lives with abundance. Abundance comes in so many variations from His favor to divine intervention. This also fires us up doesn’t it! Just the fact that God notices us is enough of a blessing, but God’s grace and goodness extend to the giving of His Son, the meeting of need, the bestowing of talents, gifts, and purpose, and even the bonus of true meaning for all of life.

“He broke it” This is where many people check out. “Hey, I didn’t sign up for pain and brokenness!” But the third movement is not option if we desire to become all that God intends for us to become. Many choose the mundane, ordinary, and safe. The adventure is often launched in the part of the journey where the road seems dark. This is where Christ was when He instituted communion, dark days where He had to set aside what the natural side wanted and choosing instead God’s bigger plan. If we fail to enter into this act, we miss the next movement which is the power of getting Misisonal!

“He shared it” This is where all the first three movement find their purpose! And interestingly enough, before God uses us in significant ways, He walks us through this 4 fold pattern of heart development. Those who do not allow the third movement of God’s deeper work in our hearts, do not experience fully the missional passion and purpose found in this fourth movement of being shared. You see as Jesus was giving this great visual of breaking a piece of bread, the message was clear, it took the breaking in order to share the provision with a larger number of people, other wise the provision and blessing would stay only with one! God’s plan is always to reach, go, share and transform!

In these four movements, we experience Christ in four different ways, all part of the journey. In the first movement we experience Christ as our Savior. In the second, we experience Christ as our Sanctifier. In the third, we experience Christ as our Healer. In the fourth, we experieince Christ as our Coming King who has left us with a mission to complete before He returns!

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When we came back from our hikes, our guide, Steve, gathered up our water bottles and headed off to this monster water fall and filled our bottles with God’s own brand of fresh water from the source! Oh, so good! Now it was time to saddle up, leave the mountain top experience of God’s beauty and power, and somehow try to bring that back with us.

Ya’ know, the ride up was wild…but the ride down was even crazier! Imagine riding this huge horse, leaping downward toward these tightly clustered trees all along the trail which look like a medieval torture device of poles with extended flesh destroying spikes all around!

Every turn a tree branch…a log…a creek…a crevasse…wow! My adrenalin was rushing through my veins on hyper-drive, but when I simply trusted Mickey (my horse) I began to enjoy the chaotic, terrifying, sometimes painful journey down the mountain.

When we got back to the base camp…none of us really wanted the adventure to end! Now it was time to get ready for the evening and time to read Colossians chapter 2.

More to come from my journal… MC

 

 

 

 

Day 3...Hurricane Ridge

Cold, cold, cold! Boy am I thankful for my -20 mummy sleeping bag! Lying under our barbarian blue tarp, every part of me was warm except for my face. This was the only part that had any exposure to the outside air, and it felt like a mix between myofacial paralyzation and those form-able ice packs. Yet somehow, this cold felt full of freshness and wonder. The fire is crackling behind me as the smoke floats amidst the conversations happening around the fire. As I slowly extricate myself from the protection of my bag, I eagerly reach for the precious gift that Sherwood gave me…a can of Starbucks Double-Shot espresso!

I pulled on my boots, and popped the top of the Starbucks can, then I slid it ever so carefully onto the fire grate and waited for God to work His heating magic! While the breakfast was filling the area with an incredible aroma, and my can of Starbucks began to bubble releasing a scent that would have given the Three Wise-men’s gifts of Frankincense and Myrrh a run for their money, we talked about the adventure that was ahead of us for tat day.

Our ride today will take us up Hurricane Ridge. At its highest point it is about 10,500 feet. Wow, that is way up there, and we are getting there on horse? Sounds kind of scary, sounds like an adventure! This morning I will read through Colossians chapter 2 and share communion with the men, then it will be time to saddle up, pop that stogy in my mouth and head on up the hill…Father, I can’t wait too see with my eyes and hear with my heart what You have for me in Your Word today!

Later that day…

OK, so we saddled up and headed out for Hurricane Ridge. The climb was extremely steep as we meandered up some magnificent trails. Mickey was awesome today! Even though our route was far more difficult and dangerous than the ride in yesterday (I didn’t think that was possible!) providentially the ride went so much better. Yesterday my fear had me acting in default mode where I tend to control my circumstances.  Yesterday that meant over controlling Mickey because I w3as afraid of the route he was taking! Today was a different story. I decided to trust Mickey more and give Him leeway on which route he thought best to take (within limits of course!).

Mickey knows better than me which hill he can jump down or which part of the creek he has a better chance of making it through than me. In reality, Mickey doesn’t want to fall or crash or get hurt any worse than I do, so today I trusted his judgment much more and focused on my balance…trust…and some mid-course corrections…and an amazing thing happened, I LOVED THE RIDE!

Fear makes me myopic…here my focus is on the immediate and the danger. Trust is the antidote to fear. There were still moments and trails of fear- but I knew Mickey would carry me through. As I ponder my spiritual journey, I very often see the same progression. I become weary, sore, exhausted and spent when I try to control God’s direction. With my little bit of wisdom and knowledge I begin to decide just how life should and shouldn’t be played out in the current scene.
When events happen in life that I don’t agree with, I begin to try to do whatever it takes to control things to get my desired outcome. I think, “This can’t be how God wants me to experience life, in order to experience life the way “God” wants me to I must need to either try harder or study, read, or pray more. So I begin a circumstantial self-improvement project that should create my preferred outcome! All this striving and trying and performing just makes me tired in the midst of the fear.

But when I simply have a loose hold on the reigns of life and trust the Holy Spirit to know which route is best, even if it looks terrifying, the journey becomes fun and alive. Experiencing God’s joy on the journey, regardless of the danger, reminds me that I am alive!

As we rode to the top of a hill, we tied up in a little valley with a birds-eye view of Hurricane Ridge. Steve pulled out some tortillas, cheese and meat, and we all had lunch before the next opportunity. Steve pointed out varying ridges and trails we could all go on, so after we ate everyone found others heading in similar directions and began to hike up and see what God had made.

Sherwood, Kurt and I began hiking up to a ridge that was at about 8000 feet. While the view was incredible I learned one very important fact…hiking in cowboy boots is painful! I seemed to hike sideways most of the time, and I could hear my feet screaming out at me, “Just what are you doing!”

When we finally reached the ridge it was stunning. The meticulous carving that God did using the tools of glaciers, rivers and rocks created a beauty that is hard to even articulate. While breathtaking does not do justice to the view, it does aptly represent how I felt in my cowboy boots when we got to the top!

Waterfalls, lakes, ponds, landscaping that looked like green velvet. No evidence of other humans, just thousands of feet of sheer cliff chiseled by the hands of God. There is deafening silence…beauty…God centricity, and this really stayed with us all. We sat down on the edge as other men began to arrive and look at the indescribable. As time was winding down we began the journey back down the mountain to the horses. I prayed my feet would make it!

Good conversation, moments to take pictures with men who are now my brothers. Air so crisp your vision improves. Soon enough we were back at the horses, and Steve was making a run to fill our water bottles with fresh water from the source…

OK…I’ll end the entry here for the moment and will get the rest on soon!
Monty

 

Hidden Camp... Day 2 cont...

There are those who have the twinkle of life in their eyes, who love the outdoors, and have many stories to tell! Well, that's Happy Jack. Happy Jack runs an outfitters ranch in Easton Washington, and some of the guys had a break-in ride with him before we left. Jacked warmed his way into all our hearts, giving us some encouragement, courage, and at least some basic idea of what a horse was! As we were heading out the first morning, Sherwood had a surprise stop for us at Happy Jacks! We had an opening on the team, and Jack was coming. I tell you every face lit up, and Jack became a member of our barbarian horde, and a blessing to us all...

OK, on with the journal...

We crossed a river, and my heart began to race with all the possibilities of what "could" happen, but before long we were through the river, in the midst of sharply appointed trees, slogging through more bogs and climbing hills! Every other turn it seemed that Mickey was trying to personally introduce me to the sharp branches of various Canadian trees. Mickey kept trying to lunge his head down to eat, I continued to pull his head up. The battle of the wills contuned, and while I seemed to win most of the time it sure took a toll on my body!

As we headed up on really steep hillside, some of the horses decided they didn't want to go up the steep incline and revolted in teamsters style! I saw the back of Butch as his huge horse shot off into the woods with branches cracking as they blazed a new trail. At that moment, I looked down at Mickey who remained pretty calm and said, "Thanks, I owe ya' one!"

After a few more horse revolts that caused some riders to slide down the hill we broke into a pure God moment. As I gazed out at this meadow, it seemed that time had stood still, it felt as if we had found Eden, for surely God dwelt in the mist. It was so stunning, nothng but pure beauty and peace designed by God.

As we wound our way out of the bog, we lumbered up and into another forest fortress of mystery. Winding around the muddy trails that created natural artwork around the trees, a commotion ahead revealed a couple of the pack horses had become stuck and we had one runaway! I tell ya, never a dull moment on the trail. Again I said to Mickey, "Thanks again, I appreciate your stoutness and solid footing!" We were fast becoming friends now.

It wasn't much longer and we trotted into base camp! It was beautiful. Surrounded by majestic peaks, a river running close by, a corral of sorts and a fire pit. It was called Hidden Camp, and we definately felt isolated and safe in dangerous kind of way. The view that welcomed us was to brilliant. As we begin to get our bearings, we could see snow capping the peaks of the razor sharp ridges that towered above us. I tell ys, at 6000 feet the air is so crisp and clean that you can feel it move through your nose and lips. It's the kind of air that has taste, that you remember like your first kiss or the first time you held hands and never again wanted to wash!

Our guides told us to tie off our horses to the trees,( I was praying my knot would work, I hadn't been too successful yet), and unloaded the pack boxes. Next we found the tarps to make the shelter. It was hilarious. We have two of those massively large blue tarps. One for a roof and one for the floor. We strung up the roof and laid out the floor and then 14 sleeping bags were lined up. This is going to be interesting, talk about male bonding to the 14th degree!

I find myself staring at these mountains every time the clouds clear. The drizzling rain is making me cold, but it's a welcome cold. Cold can have a different texture when you leave your normal experience in life. A cold that causes a person to complain bitterly in the normal context seems to be a cold here that you stand in while meditating on the breath that rises from within you. Somehow the beauty of the cold warms my soul, this is good to be here, God has room.

Arnie, our guide, made an incredible dinner for us that was consummed at light speed! After dinner as we all sat around the campfire, our other guide, Steve, had let all the horses loose. This really caught us by surprise as the hoofbeats thundered, shaking the ground like an earthquake! I couldn't believe they just let the horses go like that, but as our guides and newly forming friends told us, "They'll be back when we shake the oat bins!" Sure enough, every night the horses were free to roam wherever, and every morning they were back and ready for the next adventure!

The horses all had that wild William Wallace cry of "Freedom!" as they galloped out...That picture is embedded in my mind forever, the beauty and power of graceful freedom. At the campfire we began to talk about Colossians chapter 1. It really didn't take long for the guys to start sharing their stories and reveal what God had illuminated to them throughout the day.

For many of us, one of the major themes that emerged and made an impact was where Paul had said that it was God who qualified us, (we could never live up to God's standards on our own!)-it was God who chose us-it was God who accepted us. These broke through like wild fire in our hearts. It's amazing how the Holy Spirit opens up deep level conversations. The way the Bible speaks when you let it is so powerful...God was doing the teaching on this trip!

All day we worked with strong-willed horses...God revealed to me a bit of how He works with strong-willed people like me all day! As my mind was dealing with my personal tug-o-wars with God over the slightest of issues...in the dark of the moment...the ground began to rumble, and the horses came charging back through the camp...All the discussion around the fire stopped as the wonder of the horses went through.

Tonight I asked God to split the hidden sky for me, and at 11:30 He did exactly that! So many stars. It was the kind of sky without the effects of our culture's created light. The kind of stars that Abraham once gazed up into and heard God speak a promise. The promise was to bless the world, to change the world through a future person in his lineage. I wonder, did Abraham see that star as the promise of Jesus spoken into existence...may I continue to embrace the wonder.

Me, God & Mickey: day 2

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The tent had an old pot-bellied wood stove in it that cause the temperature to rocket into "muy Caliente'" mode during the night. This morning the staff at Blue Bronna was wide eyed and cheery as they prepared a hearty breakfast for us all. After eating we all had some time to read through the first chapter of Colossians, this would be the chapter to launch our divine interactions on whatever trail was ahead of us. 

"This same Good News that came to you is going out all over the world. It is changing lives everywhere, just as it changed yours that very first day you heard and understood the truth about God's great kindness to sinners...We also pray that you will be strengthened with his glorious power so that you will have all the patience and endurance you need.May you be filled with joy" Col. 1:6,11

Changed lives...strength...patience...endurance and joy...that is a life worth striving for!

Now it was weigh in time. I think I saw the first spark of the fear of God when we were told that our personal supplies, which included everything from sleeping bags to toothbrush, had to weigh in on the magical hanging scale at 25 pounds or less! "Oh man!" I began going through all my stuff. "Do I really need that pair of under-ware?" "Do I really need that extra T-shirt?' I was second guessing everything in my bags, and slowly began to lighten my load. When I suspended my pack from the hanging scales of truth and justice, I think I was just a twinge over 25 pounds... phew, on to the next stage.

After we all weighed in, we tossed our packs into a truck then hiked down to the horse corral. It was D-Day, we were all about to be assigned our horse for the week. Tensions ran high through the corral as we were taught how to saddle up our horses, and how to pack our gear and team supplies on the pack horses. Well, being the nice guy that I am, I kinda stayed back a bit while Steve (our guide) was assigning the horses. With each guy getting a horse and beginning to saddle up, my anxiety was mounting. We were down to two guys and two horses. One horse looked normal, the other horse was gigantic. I was the last one to get my horse, his name was Mickey, and the only thought that was racing through my mind was "Holy crap that horse is huge!" And huge he was. Mickey was almost 17 hands tall and he had the biggest butt I have ever seen on a horse!

Mickey's stomach was so big they didn't have a strap that fit, so Steve was jimmy-rigging a system for me while the sweat rolled off my head like Niagara Falls! Mickey was huge, and his saddle didn't fit. I was also about to discover that his appetite was as big as his southern extremities!

As we headed out of the corral shrouded by the mist and rain of the Canadian Rockies, my power struggle with Mickey began. This horse had mucho strength in his neck, and  two steps would not pass without a match up between the two of us. Mickey wanted to eat, Steve said, "Whatever you do, don't let him eat", so when his head went down to eat, I pulled on the reigns to get it back up, and this went on for about 5 hours straight!  Man are my arms tired tonight!

Since Mickey was so big and the saddle was so small, I eventually found myself sliding around on top of ol' Mickey. The more I tried to control him, the more he seemed to trot into trees, gallop sideways, which loosened the saddle even more, the he would snort and give me funny looks! The only thing going through my mind was "What was I thinking! It's cold, wet, I'm falling off my horse, crashing into trees, and whoa what's that...you mean we have to jump that creek!"

It was at about this part of the first days ride that I began dropping things along the trail. This is also where my hero kept saving my bacon and picked up everything I dropped! His name is Happy Jack, and that is a story in and of itself! I think I'll log off for now, and tell you about my friend Happy Jack tomorrow.  MC

Me God & Mickey: day 1

Finally! I tell ya, it has been crazy...The church I pastor just moved locations, and we have been busy building, moving and creating a space where a God encounter is sure to happen!

So in this first installment, I will begin by simply posting the first entry from my journal I had with me on the trail! The rest of my thoughts will come from that journal as well.

~Oh my Gosh...after twelve hours in the suburban we pulled into the parking lot for Blue Bronna Wilderness Camps up in the Canadian Rockies. We were greeted by canvas tarps which created people zones... an area for sleeping, another for meeting, and another for eating! The fire crackled as the rain cascaded down the tarps and we each walked the land to get our bearings.

We unloaded into some expedition type canvas bunkhouses, downed some chow, then met at the camp fire to set the tone for our journey together. I found a guitar that was actually tuned and sounded pretty good in the corner, so we kicked things off with some time singing, praying, and reading. I talked us through the transfiguration and mountain top experiences, then we decided to let Paul's letter to the Colossians be our spiritual food for the week. We will read one chapter two times a day, then we will share what God was really impressing upon us throughout the day at our end of the day campfire.

Colossians is a powerful letter, where Paul reveals the centrifugal force of the universe...Jesus. Even at this early stage of the journey, God has already showed up in a powerful way. I was with twelve men who wanted more of God, and to know and experience what it means to be men of God and brothers.

The discussion lingered long after the camp fire ended on this first night. As I lay in my mummy bag in this canvas expedition tent, I hear the rain strike and rebound on the canvas above my head. I am tired, excited, and looking forward to being just one of the guys, and not the pastor.

There are generally unspoken rules about pastors on journeys like this...the rules go something like, "You should lead...You should talk...You should teach...You should take charge...You should make sure everything runs smoothly...You should make sure everyone is enjoying themselves...You should make sure everyone has all their stuff...You should, you should, you should!"  Man, that is a whole lot of shoulding going on!

I have determined to engage as plain ol' me... Monty... God's son... a brother to men on the trip. I will lead when needed, and follow at other times. I have decided not to be anything other than myself. That is really hard though...So often we pastors are around solely because we are just that, pastors...Sometimes we ask deep questions inside like, "will they like me for me, or do they merely tolerate me for what I can teach and lead them through?"

I tell ya though, I am very safe with these guys. They are my friends, and I am looking forward to experiencing this adventure with them as a friend!

OK, end of a very long travel day...I will let the rain lull me to sleep as I dream, about what tomorrow brings!

Monty  (you can check out some of my pictures in the photo Album called Horse Expedition)

 

Round Up!

OK, I have been back and getting caught up and acclimated so I will start entering some thoughts from the trail this week! The journey was incredible...I think I found my inner cowboy!!!

By the way, that's me at the lower point of the scene...just click on it to enlarge!

Mount up!

OK...It's time to head out...If you haven't read my blog "Where Have All The Cowboys Gone" click the link and check it out. I will be uploading my thoughts from the trail as soon as I get back!

Happy Trails, Monty

Where have all the cowboys gone.

The last time I was on a horse, I  think I was 12, and much more nimble than I am today at 40. I remember riding this beautiful black horse who definitely had a mind and a will of it's own (much like myself I should add!). Growing up I was the kind of kid who always had a weapon in his hand and could be counted upon to fight the good fight and rescue a maiden or two. One of my all time favorite things to do was pretend I was part of Custer's 7th Calvary (I learned later that wasn't the best platoon to be in for obvious reasons!) dressed up in my 7th Calvary clothing dreaming of having my own horse! "Please mom can I have a horse? Please...please...please...I promise to take care of him, really I will." But, alas, no horse.

A dream of being a cowboy crushed, cuz... how can you be a cowboy without a horse right? Well tonight, I just got off a 4 hour horse ride to prepare me for a 5 day horse pack trip over the Continental Divide in Canada and boy do my buns hurt! But wow was it awesome. We went through rivers and tail surfed up Elk trails. You do this by holding onto the lead rope  which is snaking its way backward through the left side stirrup with my left hand... then I held onto the horses tail with my right hand, allowing her strength to help me up this incredibly steep rocky mountain (That was a learning experience!).

Our tour guide for the day of getting all my parts ready for multiple days of riding through mountainous crevasses was Happy Jack, a 66 year old cowboy with a heart of gold and a story for every occasion. As we rode, Jack shared how almost all of his clients are women or girls. It seems he never gets men to come out for rides. Most Dads seem to be fine with sitting in their Suburbans reading or talking on the cell phone while their wives and daughters go out into the wilderness atop one of God's most beautiful creations. This really made me wonder where have all the cowboys gone? Why don't we men tap into our boyhood dream of entering the adventure of life? Why have we settled for a life of the ordinary or good enough, and left the life of adventure.

As we talked about this depressing fact on the trail, some thought that perhaps men  do not want to look stupid, or like they don't know what they were doing in front of their family or other people. Could be. Maybe some men are simply scared. Could be. Maybe some have forgotten, or shoved that part of their heart that longs to live the adventure God has for each of us so far away, that the mists of oblivion have enshrouded and suffocated the desire. Whatever the reason, so many men are living lives of mere existence and they are missing out on the story God has written for their lives.

So here's the deal. On Aug. 11th, I am traveling with 12 other men to a base camp in the Calgary area. From there we are going to mount up (I am currently thinking those tempra-pedic pillows would be great saddle material) and head out into the hills. I will be journaling what happens as 12 men take a step of faith to go beyond the norm, and experience more of life. I will post my thoughts and observations along with some wild pictures, I'm sure, as soon as I get back and I find my buttocks!

So log back in and read about what happens when 12 guys dare to become cowboys again!