Wash and Wear Laundry

The punchers took great pride in their cooking and housekeeping; in fact, they got to be plum cranky about it. Their washing was done in camp—there was no other way out of it. When in reach of JA headquarters, there was usually a woman or two that did it. Many a time I rode out into a lake or creek, and washed out my shirt and handkerchiefs. If the weather was warm, I would put my shirt back on and wear it, letting it dry on my back.

From The Camp Life of a Cowpuncher by Carroll Doshier as told by Jim Christian

An Association with Nature

My camp, being located in the Palo Duro, afforded me the privilege of close association with nature. I loved to ride to a steep ledge and view the canyon at sunrise and to smell the dewy cedar and listen to the mockingbirds. I learned to know the trees, shrubs, and flowers in their season and the signs and legends belonging to each. I have fed wild turkeys and quail the bread and beans from my table. I delighted in a plunge at the big spring, formerly a watering place of the Indians. The hoot of the owl, and howl of the coyote, were music to my ears through the long night. My comrade was my horse. A feller could spend lots of time pettin’ and currying a horse. We would soon have a feeling of confidence between us—a feller often had a horse smart enough to learn tricks.

From The Camp Life of a Cowpuncher by Carroll Doshier as told by Jim Christian

Beans and Boots Don't Mix

One winter I had bought a pair of hand me down boots, trying to be economical. They fit too close to be comfortable, so I devised a plan to stretch them. I filled them with beans and water, thinking that the beans would swell, and in doing so, enlarge the boots. The plan worked, but too well—the next morning the tops were stretched off the soles. I felt no better over my attempt at economy.

From The Camp Life of a Cowpuncher by Carroll Doshier as told by Jim Christian

A Cowboy and His Cat

When I went into winter camp I always took plenty of tobacco and usually a cat. I always liked a cat around camp—a cat and a briar pipe were lots of company when a feller spent months shut off from the world. Of course, a puncher would drop in for a meal or a visit once in a while, or maybe, I would meet a puncher now and then while riding. But I have gone for weeks at a time without seeing a soul.”

From The Camp Life of a Cowpuncher by Carroll Doshier as told by Jim Christian